#this got over 5k words btw it's Long

[aewrie]

i've gone so far off the rails but we're in too deep now too late to turn back

or, long ass tirade re: writing consent and lack of thereof and weird nuanced situations is go

(who died and made me the boss? no one. but ppl keep telling me i write this stuff good so presumably i'm doing something right)

first off: if you think deriving enjoyment/catharsis of any kind from fictional nonconsent scenarios is gross and wrong: you're not gonna like me, please go away

second off: i am approaching the majority of this from the angle of writing (hopefully) engaging fiction. this is personal thoughts flavoured by my preferences, not a universally applicable how-to guide and not a consent 101 for real life purposes

ty

also, for context

--

'excplicit on-screen consent is awkward'

skill issue

but yes. it can be. very much so. 

i'll start off with that i have put words into characters' mouths at times bc i felt the need to tell others something (even if intended audience for a given message might never stumble across it) and will do it again, But good luck trying to figure out what those instances are,

but anyhow i think that's where a big part of the problem stems from. people (writers) try to tell their audience things (educating them on consent) at the expense of their story and characterizations. and then when they try to make it sound less awkward they attempt shortcuts like a handful of specific Sexy Ways To Ask For Consent lines that i saw people lamenting about in the notes of that post, rather than, again, trying to think of how these characters might have this interaction happen and if it serves the story and its purposes

(what i mean by 'a story's purposes' is what's the goal here. is it to explore these characters. is it to make the audience feel a certain way, or to have them think about something. and bc we're talking about smut here too is the point to get off and that's it)

if i try to think back i can remember exactly one (1) pwp smut fic where a character stopping abruptly in the middle of business to ask for consent in an somewhat questionable situation was entertaining, and that's bc the other one's response was basically that ship sailed ages ago don't you fucking dare leave me hanging here

'fiction influences how people act irl'

"...and therefore all sex scenes should have on-screen consent to help model healthy communication"

to a degree, yes, fiction can influence people when information on a topic is otherwise scarce, but the solution here isn't to turn porn into sex ed, it's to provide better sex ed outside fiction. if you write explicit enthusiastic consent SOLELY because you think your average reader needs help grasping the concept, i worry. to paraphrase a post i can't be assed to dig up bc it was years and years ago: if we rely on people's chance encounters with pornography as a means to educate the masses on safe sex, we've already lost the ball. grievously.

and i need to stress that i LIKE writing explicit consent, when it makes sense, and in ways that make sense. i'm not opposed to showing what attempts at healthy communication can look like in fiction. i think there should be stories like these! i think they can be great in introducing people to new ideas and encourage learning more outside fiction. but also i think in many situations it's just better to share educational resources separately and let the stories be stories, even if the aim is to have the communication etc reflect what you'd generally want/expect irl.

one thing i like to include (when applicable) is the term edgeplay in my descriptions/tags; it's a small thing but maybe someone not familiar will see it and realize that maybe they shouldn't be diving into what my characters are doing headfirst, even if it works out in the story

i do think mainstream porn especially could use more things like brief scenes after the main meat of a film where the actors are just chilling and stuff. a little grounding moment when it's time to 'return to reality', particularly with more hardcore stuff.

but we're primarily talking smutty fanfic, a niche within a niche, and like. honestly a lot of fanfic does better on this front already, bc we tag for these things. the understanding is already there that the fic is following tropes and kinks and specific crafted scenarios regarding consent. #sex pollen is the author telling you here will be that particular kink/trope, but also that someone's decision making is influenced/impaired by some substance belonging under the sex pollen category 

wait i thought a good way to highlight the key point here; 

> author's wanting to include on-screen consent because they prefer that, or want to encourage people, even if on a small scale, to think more about this more, etc: awesome! go for it! i do this too!

> other people pushing an expectation that fanfic smut writers of all people are responsible for educating the masses in order to fix a society-wide problem: please get a grip

i have written a pretty wide range of situations where there was on-screen consent but i'll get more onto that later,

and then i've also written/drawn stuff where there's absolutely no whiff of anything resembling healthy discussion or concern for boundaries, and a good chunk of that has been smut. i do love pwp fic/erotic art where you can read into it what you want to read into it; eg i have a fic that *could* be read as the pov character is really into it, the consent just isn't explicit on screen OR yeah that's just straight up noncon and brainwashing, just subtle about it -- i tagged for power imbalance. readers can read and imagine further details as they like. a one shot pwp with no wider narrative attached to it lends itself particularly well for something like this.

when there is a bigger story attached, i gotta start considering more how characters interact with each other and what their relationships are like, but even then, please refer to the diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm fic post

and of course the one part of this wank that only noncon enjoyers seem to even notice: i'm more worried about the people who write ""consensual"" sex scenes that are in fact dubcon at best, because they genuinely do not seem to realize this, than the ppl writing wildly not-appropriate-to-replicate-irl scenes with full awareness that this is the case. and often, you can tell. even if it's not spelled out in the text itself.

'consent is sexy'

i am facepalming and groaning (in frustration, just for the sake of clarity) and glaring at my screen

rl? consent isn't sexy. it's necessary. it absolutely CAN be sexy but that's not a prerequisite. in fact sometimes these discussions can be actively unsexy and THAT'S FINE (trust a cnc kinkster to be the one voice of sanity in the notes of that post and be the one to bring up this point; you, random tumblr user, are a real one) bc being sexy is not the point. the mutual agreement and knowing what you're getting into is the point

(i get this phrase is less or more something created with the purpose of basically marketing consent but still)

in fiction, it can be many fucking things. including the worst boner killer you've seen. refer back the where we started, and also the whole, when the reader's here just to get off chances are they aren't in the mood for a lowkey lecture in consent (and/or safe sex)

also!!

i wouldn't say character gasping i want you in the middle of making out is sexy bc it's explicit consent, but rather it's sexy bc they're needy. because they can't contain how much they desire the other person and are emotionally vulnerable in expressing that. and does leaning into something like that not make for a more interesting and engaging (including in the sense of being arousing) storytelling than 'yes, i, a mature adult of legal age to consent and not currently under the influence of any substances that might impede my judgement, enthusiastically consent to performing the sex with this person who is my equal in every way'?

(i am exaggerating for comedic effect but that's how reading some examples i've seen feels like at times. and if someone out there thinks that is sexy i want to study them under a microscope. fully solidified brain risk centers has me fucking weeping.)

people writing things with consent/boundary issues that aren't straight up noncon (moderately spicy opinions time)

you see here' the thing with me being comfortable acknowledging that something can be noncon AND sexy: i am also perfectly content acknowledging more grey area type situations that so many others completely miss on their crusade against the Problematic noncon (and age gaps. let's be real fandom loves to hate on age gaps even when they're a completely non-issue, and then is damn oblivious to often far more glaring potential red flags. (see hannigram. apparently some people think the ship is Bad because of the age gap and no other reason.))

coffeeshop aus being the ~fluffiest most wholesome trope~ that's actually problematic bc that's just sexually harassing a service worker who may not be able to do shit about it is just one oft used example. other such things include: teacher/student or mentor/student relationships, doctor/medic/healer + their patient relationships, gods + their followers/priests, spiritual leaders + regular people of the applicable faith, ceo/evil overlord/whathaveyou and their employees/staff/underlings, the list goes on, wrt consent these are all at the very least sketchy by irl standards even if everyone was an adult and technically consented, and i didn't even list nearly every scenario imaginable,

and oh boy i almost forgot to mention things like love potions, sex pollen, aphrodisiacs, characters in heat, etc etc

BUT in fic, if we're not all fixated on being Pure and Unproblematic, these can be fucking great and romantic and sexy. for a moment we can pretend that getting flirted on by the cute regular and writing your number on the back of a receipt to hand with their drink you have memorized bc that person always orders the same thing is the pinnacle of romance. we can imagine that a follower in their blind devotion isn't a prime target for exploitation but rather their god's favourite pet who gets special treatment. you get the idea.

just, don't whine about problematic fic if you can't face the iffy parts in your own favourite romance/sex fantasies?? we're all freaks here and slapping a BUT my characters EXPLICITLY STATE that they consent on yours doesn't change that my dubcon pwp and your coffee shop au both inherently have a certain disregard of boundaries built in. it's a feature. it makes the story better at what it is supposed to be. that is: a fantasy. trying to shoehorn in standardized explicit on-screen consent can get weird beyond a superficial level of wholesome, unless you're willing to acknowledge the fact that this is actually at least a little Problematic. you don't have to spell it out in the fic, but. at least think about it, if depicting only the most wholesome consensual educational intimate encounters is so very important??

back onto depicting attempts at healthy communication/consent for a bit

the thing is, care and communication and respecting boundaries and trusting each other and all that can just as much be a fantasy explored in a story(!)

and i say 'attempts at healthy communication' rather than 'healthy communication' for a reason. even when i try to go for something grounded in how these things can look like in reality, characterization and narrative comes first. i've cut banger lines bc they felt too much like we're trying to do therapy and i'll damn well do it again. same with consent. i'm here to tell a story. even when it's grounded in realism. i'm not First And Foremost trying to model a healthy relationship even if my story has an element of hey, practising good consent *can* look something like this. characters can and should stumble and make mistakes and have conflicts that don't have perfect solutions, and that applies here too. we apply suspension of disbelief everywhere else in fiction. this is no different.

!! and, in insisting on reading this kind of fictional intimacy as Educational, people are going to miss more subtle ways in which the scenario may not be ideal. i shouldn't have to explain why that's Not Good

you can have fun with this actually And make it another tool of characterization etc

and on-screen consent doesn't have to look the same for every scenario and character. in fact it shouldn't. bc if it does, now you've probably stumbled into the pitfall of writing consent 101, possibly with an attempt at making it more sexy, rather than story.

like, just some ideas off of the top of my head that aren't 'yes, i consent':

normally abrasive character who needs to be in control at all times becomes more subdued and allows another to get intimate. just maybe a reserved 'you can', and them not fighting like they usually do with everything just out of habit

characters who cannot keep their hands off of each other because they're just desperately wanting to get as close and intimate as possible. no time for words. no chance for words because between kisses they're too out of breath anyway. (how is there any argument about this sort of scenario leaving consent 'vague'??)

normally reserved & quiet character making a subtle first move that, when coming from them, is Big

character is too excited and aroused and struggles to make the words go but their actions very much scream Want, while the other is going on about how sexy they are

honestly, nala giving simba the bedroom eyes in tlk style situation is a good one if you're just fading to black

'i want you', 'i need you', 'let me have you'

actually i'm providing some examples by yours truly;

my longfic is just. there's two sex scenes. one character is very experienced and the other is aroace and has not had an intimate relationship of any kind prior to this. i put emphasis on the curiosity and uncertainty and the more experienced character wanting to be sure that everything's fine, because he cares about that. for how i wrote these characters and this relationship, this approach made sense. i have lines like:

"You would give me this experience with you, then?" "Is this alright?" "I know my boundaries. That includes knowing which ones I am willing to bend." "Go slow at first and it's all good." "Tell me how it feels?"

I wouldn't necessarily label ^this scene smut in a conventional sense tbh. it's more the characters trying to figure things out and being a bit awkward about it at points.

and then i have this example later on of how a lack of clear 'yes' can be more fun:

If they think they are going to get a coherent answer out of him, they are wrong. The sight between his legs demands his attention, and he knows nothing sensible would come out of his mouth now, if he tried. The best he manages to give is a whine that maybe was supposed to be a 'please', but who knows. He certainly doesn't.

from a different story with same characters, we have 

"You are so responsive to simple touch, my friend." Simple, he says. Distracting. That it is.

closely followed by

"If I should stop, will you tell me?" They look up. Tell him? They don't bother, often, with trying; so many don't pay attention. Most keep a distance anyway. But some, they don't care if they push away or try to leave, unless they want to go away themselves; don't care that they hold a weapon until they use it, they know how to use it, it is not an idle threat. Easier to fight or run away, depending. Not to bother, when others deny their mind, their decisions. But he wants to know? "Three taps. Or something else, but still thrice. Somewhere I can feel it. I will know, then." So simple. They can do that. "Will you?" He wants to know. Nod; yes. They will.

in which we establish a safeword without calling it a safeword! to have a clear way of communicating no/stop when these two aren't that familiar with one another and the pov character is nonverbal. again, bc it made sense for my characterizations. frankly(!) leading up to this there's little things that are less good consent, like pov character feeling they have to decide on the spot if they engage or not when they realistically would have liked more time to think (and did not expect further checking ins along the line bc Unfamiliar Territory) but for the oneshot fic it works, bc it gets things moving along at a decent pace.

also good spot to go on a tangent about how perhaps im just too aroace for all this nonsense bc I KNOW the gag is that oh you're reading this very filthy smut? we all know what you're here for ;) ;) and i'm legitimately like. good character writing?? yes?? with tasty word building on the side as a bonus maybe?? i Do Not look at sexual content as inherently or even primarily as something that exists for the sake of sexual gratification, it's just another thing you can include in a story. if it's sexy for others and all that awesome, if not, that's a you problem lol.

then less plotty more smutty ones;

The King parts his legs, then, just enough to allow access. 

^depending how you kinky you'd like something like that, it could be an invitation or a command. depends on the surrounding context

He listens to the raspy breaths above him; they do not betray much, but he knows the subtle differences in the pattern, knows when he is getting close. / They would expect him to do something. They delight in the spontaneity, -- / -- watching how their hands twitch, listening to their little sounds. How he adores those sounds.

a selection of small things implying these characters are familiar with each other. and, that there's not so much of a point in confirming consent for everything every time. you can have it in there without spelling it out if you want, and especially with established relationships, that just makes sense, unless it's a Thing for them to go over the details each time. in which case: why. explain the logic and convince me (is it a kink for them? you could make it a kink thing if you want to play up the sexiness, but do realize that's going to be a niche thing.)

ooc is ooc. how would your character show or not show that they want to get nasty?

sidenote for kink etc: if your story isn't set in present-day real world or something close enough, you can implement a system that the readers will understand is a safeword, even if you don't call it that. is there something unique to your setting/characters that they might use instead, that might even make more sense in-universe? ALSO, in scifi/fantasy settings particularly you can possibly take stuff MUCH further than would be plausible or possible irl. don't be restricted to real world rules for kink, and with that, consider how this might impact stuff like negotiation. eg, 'anything that doesn't leave a permanent mark goes' carries a whole lot of different meanings when you have access to magic healing that leaves your skin looking perfectly unharmed. (this is for if your characters are aware that they are doing kink; if your characters aren't aware of this, proceed accordingly)

fixating on a verbal 'yes' like it's some kind of magic word just shows a fundamental misunderstanding of what consent even is

[cw for talk about sexual abuse etc from here out]

(if you're not familiar, please look up the fries model of consent. it's not a be all end all, but a solid starting point, particularly for vanilla scenarios.)

you can have a character go through the motions of consenting without it meaning jack shit due to the circumstances that lead them there. this partially ties to the whole people writing noncon without realizing. bc fiction generally involves conflicts of some kind, the things that drive your story forward can at the same time be what makes consent between your ship-to-be iffy, even if we all know that it's actually fine and no one's really being hurt (again, we apply suspension of disbelief etc), or just not good consent by any stretch of imagination.

is my neglected and emotionally abused ~late teens oc meaningfully consenting to sex when she's being pressured to 'earn her keep' by her caretakers and then getting pimped by her boyfriend who manipulates her? she says she's consenting. must be fine, then. right? right? (hint: No.)

another oc initiated what was at first a consensual encounter, voiced discomfort when things started going sideways, and when things Really went to shit, started fawning (among other things). is a yes, go ahead, i like that good consent here, or later in different situations, when this trauma rears its head and they're fawning again? (hint: No.)

and don't get me started on the 'verbal' part of a verbal 'yes' bc apparently some people out there genuinely insist that that's the only thing that matters- like YES, irl, if someone's body is responding to stimulus but they're saying no, that verbal no is what you pay attention to. but communication is so much more than plain spoken words. ffs.

writing lack of consent (spicy opinions incoming)

disclaimer addendum: if you're writing based on personal experiences, do whatever makes you comfortable. and i mean whatever. hell, even if it's not personal experiences or you're not sure, still that applies. i sure as fuck know it isn't so simple knowing if your experiences 'count' sometimes. again, personal thoughts/preferences re: fiction. not an edict to follow.

so, with fictional sexual abuse/nonconsent, i find a common point of struggle with this is a) person is writing noncon smut and they try too hard to make it Sexy, b) person is writing a story focusing on trauma and they try too hard to Be Sensitive

like honestly the best ones i've read, regardless of what the purpose of the story was, are the ones where the author approached it like just another topic to write about. go into detail when it serves the story you're telling. be vague when it serves the story you're telling. let the characters react in a way that makes sense rather than in a way that tells the reader how sexy and/or terrible this situation is. even if you're keeping things off screen, show what's going on in the character(s) heads.

for smut, trying too hard to make it sexy can come off as awkward and at times comical. and i'll wager, not in a way that's intended. not a noncon exclusive phenomenon, but perhaps more obvious here with the tone issues that come from that.

trying too hard to be sensitive is. it can come off as condescending? i don't want to chew up anyone for being uncomfortable, but i do take issue when people act like their way of dealing with their trauma is the Only Correct One (please shut up) and anyone who disagrees is Not A Real Survivor (please shut up), and especially if anyone more removed tries to dictate how to supposebly be respectful as if trauma worked the same for everyone

...have you ever watched a crime drama featuring sexual abuse and the general vibe that the whole situation has is just this oh you poor pitiable thing :( wrapped in a package of copaganda dressed as revenge fantasy. and it isn't even that the victim wants revenge, or anything really, for that matter, they're just kinda there to look vaguely sad. it's all just a side note to the getting the fix of Justified Corporeal Punishment

adjacent to that, is what comes with the territory of writing a sensitive topic with care: people beating around the bush and using vague euphemisms instead of describing ANYTHING. i'm not saying every single instance of depicting sexual abuse has to be graphic, but when it comes across like this is something so terrible and gross that you can't even mention it, are you being sensitive, or are you being avoidant? not every story that features sexual abuse in some capacity focuses on that, but with the ones that DO, worth considering why something is being left offscreen/underscribed.

(like i can straight up say when i've been Avoidant it was bc *i* was not in the spot to be dealing with that particular scenario in depth OR bc i was pre-emptively wanting to appease hypothetical others. for daring to include something a touch more personally vulnerable in art/fiction. neither was exactly the best mental place to be creating something planned to publicly share from.)

uh oh it's complicated

idk if i'll make any sense but i'll try to words

a somewhat tame example: unexpected kiss that gets handsy. we could have rough division of scenarios as such

1) character didn't consent to this, but actually wanted it so it's fine, 2) character didn't consent to this, and aggressively makes it clear, 3) character didn't consent to this, and it's complicated

scenario 1, when done well, is the surprise affection is sexy situation. characters know exactly what the other wants. there's a fantasy in that, of not having to voice your desires to have them realized, and whatnot.

with scenario 2, when do things pause to give it some weight? character in the receiving end shoves the other away and yells at them, or someone else does it for them, and then the whole matter gets brushed off after maybe a quick are you ok, feels like the usual way it goes. from a storytelling perspective, even a brief moment to show discomfort would make that land far better, if the point is to show that this is creepy and unwelcome?

and 3 is. what if it is unwanted, but the response doesn't scream get off of me. what if the character has complicated reactions, for a possibly wide variety of reasons. where things get messy. this compels me. but it's very different from both the prior ways to go about the same scenario and easily the most complicated, because we don't get that immediate simple dramatic 'resolution' either way, if you do this properly.

i love good dubcon/soft noncon/technically consensual/things of that nature. and i will argue that you can't really do those well if you don't have a decent understanding of consent. you can't properly navigate the nuance and grey areas and technicalities and it isn't consensual, but it's complicated or consensual but not safe or sane for a compelling, believable story if you don't have a solid grasp of how these things work

depicting sexual trauma without showing anything or even directly naming it

a while there was a post about how if you can't bring yourself to use words like 'kill', instead opting for euphemisms like 'unalive', then you probably aren't mature enough to write about death with any grace, and shared there was the sentiment that this applies to sexual abuse as well. absolutely valid point but also i had happened to finish a fic relevant to that discussion recently and Now i'm getting out that particular yes but there's also this other angle to consider

which is: does it make sense for the characters to describe things using a given phrasing?

my character who's just been slapped in the face with a significant trauma and is struggling not to dissociate probably isn't going to talk about it the same way as someone who's had time to process and heal and just had an epiphany in therapy. probably.

but i'm getting sidetracked from getting sidetracked so onto the next point (for now?)

if you're not allowed to write it badly, are you actually allowed to write it?

do your research and approach these topics with care and all that, yes, but also, are we demanding that people potentially writing about their own trauma and lived experiences are masters of their craft? does a vent fic or an autobiographical work have to stand up to scrutiny of representing sexual abuse 'respectfully'??

like, a bunch of people have pointed out how demanding people publicly disclose their trauma to be judged by complete strangers in order to determine if they're allowed to write something is all sorts of shitty, but hey, here's a thought adjacent to that i don't think i've seen anyone bring up. because seriously. if someone's screaming that they're hurting why the fuck should the primary concern be but are your creative skills up to par??

(i'll be blunt again and say this is in part why i've been extremely hesitant up until recently to include these sorts of things in my stories in much detail, but far more so, i'm thinking about all the fucking awful treatment i've seen others receive for talking about/depicting fictionalized retellings of their traumas ""incorrectly"".)

i'll admit it: my first attempts at depicting sexual trauma even as a sidenote to another story just plain sucked. there was an attempt but it was no good. in part i was young and less aware of everything, in part i was poorly mimicking existing examples that were generally meh 

i'll also admit that what was genuinely most helpful at getting better was reading graphic noncon smut/angst. the well written stuff. because those fics aren't afraid to go into detail; rather, they enthusiastically dive into all the little and not so little things that make it more worse. they present the whole thing without dressing it to be palatable, and the jump from side note to copaganda to brutally honest survivor story was- i think the first really graphic one was the first time i could sympathize with the character and root for them in their journey to overcome the trauma. as opposed to almost voyeuristically (ironically enough) observe from a distance and then forget about it when the rest of the plot moved forward and forgot about it too.

and then one more thing relating to that that's been rattling around in the back of my mind for probably years now: there's one fic from years ago in particular that i think of when i consider the topic of fanfic depicting rape inappropriately. because that fic is not so different from noncon kink works i at times see from the type people arguably disrespected in said fic, just more novice in execution.  it also makes me think of how i handled various areas of this whole consent/communication/boundaries jumble in my earliest attempts vs now. which is just one of those reasons i'm reluctant to judge intentions in these situations, at least outside mainstream entertainment where standards/expectations should be completely different.

in conclusion 

this has been an i was exhausted and the filter was off ramble that got too damn long

have good day/night/whatever

[karlachismylife]

i told myself i'll take a break in my failing attempts to write a couple things on Karlach x Soap in english and go back to writing a couple other things in my first language for the upcoming fandom combat deadline

so here's a thing i wrote instead and it's neither of those :D

Very much inspired by my precious friend that is obsessed with some datesim I know nothing about and talks my ear off about her sexy chinese dudes while I make her listen to me simping for my dead scottish ADHD meow meow. We don't know shit about each other's fandoms but we're so excited for each other... Also excuse me if this idea has already been done (I swear I thought of it on my own, but I will tag anyone who's done this before if you send me a link) + my English writing still sucks.

I also encourage you to check out these smaus, they're brilliant and I somewhat looked at them when wrote Kyle's text messages and this wonderful thing about Ghost and Animal Crossing that also inspired me to look into these silly military men and mobile/video games.

Task force 141 and their reaction to their S/O playing dating simulator games

CW: gn!civilian!reader (if I slipped into one or the other gender somewhere, please tell me & I'll correct), mostly fluff with a bit of spice, pet names, mild cursing, unserious jealousy and banter, long-distance (Gaz), describing nudes and mild sexting (Gaz), soft Ghost, mentioned spanking (Price), mild dom!Price, alluded reader recieveing fingerng and oral (Soap)

Word count: ~5k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

That silly app you downloaded because its (very compelling) ads were repeatedly shoved in your face became surprisingly convenient when Gaz got deployed and wasn't within reach for weeks. A slightly clay-looking guy on your screen didn't hold up in comparison to the smoothest bastard sergeant with the tightest grip on your heart, but a cute feature with app notifications stylized as loving text messages from the virtual boyfriend somehow helped cope with the radio silence from Kyle. You knew he would be fine, how could he not? You gave him a very proper goodbye kiss (and goodbye sex that was a bit more improper) for luck, and he was too damn good at his job to fail. You weren't going insane from worry, at least not more than usually.

But the loneliness, the fucking loneliness was a little bit more bearable when you still got your "good morning beautiful xx" and "thinking about you before bed" even though the font was wacky and some phrases were clearly poorly google translated. To unlock these little snippets you opened the app every day, usually tapping mindlessly on all the required interactions before going to sleep and eyeing some of the ingame wardrobe options that wouldn't work too bad on your man. In fact, you even took a screenshot of a nice suit - if tailored right, Kyle would look in it sharper than the tactical knife he knew so well. You just needed an opportunity to show it to him.

And the opportunity barged in with a sudden surge of texts right when you were already getting ready for some shut-eye.

Three weeks of muffled unease wiped out and replaced with that never-tiring giddy feeling bubbling inside as soon as you saw Kyle's name pop up on top of your screen.

"hi baby"

"finally can text, miss you terribly 😘"

"what are you up to angel?"

You could feel your own cheeks strain with the stupid smile plastered on your face. No doubt, Kyle texted you at the first opportunity - he was there, he was okay and he missed you. All sleepiness in your body withered away, leaving you energized at eleven pm, squirming in your bed as you rolled over to start vigorously typing back. You never knew how much time you both have to chat, unstable signal or simply never-ending duty could interrupt you at any given moment, so you had to get your fill of premium class Garrick right there and then - no matter how drowsy it would make you the next morning.

Eventually you sent him the screenshot you took without second thoughts:

"btw thought you'd look good in smth like this baby, what do you think?"

Instead of a normal reply on the topic, though, you recieved an immediate jab followed by short pause:

"the fuck is that baby? 🤣"

"wait i think i know"

"replacing me with a vr boyfriend already? jesus fuck angel i haven't been away even for a month"

"i'm wounded, truly. he doesn't even look that good and can't spell correctly. what a downgrade 😔"

If only you could communicate the muscle-straining eyeroll you had through text. Chuckling and snorting, you immediately came to defence of your pixel prince charming, simply for the sake of it.

"how dare you. he's not a mere replacement, this is true love, garrick 💕🥰❤️✨"

"look at the top, we're already level 29 intimacy"

"gonna get him to send me nudes soon, they unlock at lvl 30"

Gaz could probably hear your bratty giggles on the other side of the globe, sheets rustling as you wiggled in your bed, absolutely proud of your impeccably fine-tuned wit and properly excited for the upcoming smartass comeback, since Kyle would rather die than let you have a win. But you've already calmed down with your cheeks mildly flushed, and the messages were still left on read.

Weird. It wasn't the first time your chatting ended abruptly, but usually Kyle had time at least to tell you he had to go - maybe even exchange little "ily"s. Did the signal cut off? But it was good enough for him to download a picture even, surely he'd notice if it started lagging and tell you. Did something bad happen? An emergency? An ambush?

A slight frown etched in your face as you started unwillingly thinking of the worst. Then - in a moment - that little green circle signaling Gaz was online came back. And still no answer.

Did he... get actually upset? Over a fucking datesim app?

It was hard to believe. Impossible, even. Kyle was never prone to jealosy fits, smug bastard definitely knew how secure you two were. But maybe... maybe it was the fact that you were seeking comfort he couldn't provide? Being told you needed a whole ass app simply to tell you goodnight while he was god knows where, unable to hold you and cuddle you to sleep - that could sting.

Shit, you shouldn't have started this. Gaz wouldn't outright admit he felt even the slightest bit insecure over an unblinking 3D monstrosity with a sexy Korean voice. He'd think it was stupid - and he would be right, frankly, but in this case this wasn't completely unreasonable.

Already anxious, you put your thumbs back on the phone to type out a careful question, but before you could even think of a right way to formulate it the chat chirped and loaded in a bunch of attachments.

Absolutely scandalous. Hastly unndone uniform, sweaty shirt pulled up and - you knew it even if it was outside the frame - clutched in his teeth, bared in a self-assured smirk, belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops of pants pulled down just a bit; just enough for his hand to slip inside and gather into a delicious grasp around the bulge you knew was straining against his boxers. Fucking tease, pulling the elastic band with his thumb to let you see just the base of his cock - you had to swipe several mouth-watering closeups on his chest, v-line beautifully adorned with dark hair and that bloody hand you already ached to feel on your thigh, before you finally got your reward. Hard just from the thought of you, tip glistening with the pre-cum he definitely smeared all over specifically for that picture.

"wanted to ask if your pixel bf can beat these"

"but i think your silence already says enough 😏"

You groaned, belly warm with the familiar longing. What an angel of a man, finding time to somehow snap packs of perfect nudes in the middle of wherever he was. Already turning over to slide your hand down your body, you sent a very sulking "hate you garrick. first made me worried and now horny, shameless bastard" and got an obligatory "sure you do. i'll fuck that attitude outta you as soon as i get back angel".

Somehow all the need in a virtual replacement vanished after this chat. Not only did Kyle text you more regularly - sensing a competition maybe, huh? - but you also got yourself enough material to be comforted before sleep. Sure, you'd rather have your man there in person, but no perfect-looking anime prince could offer a view better than Kyle's flexed arms or a cheeky sneak peek of his plump ass and a smooth back arch snapped over his shoulder.

No wonder you two threw yourselves at each other when Gaz finally showed up home, tired and a little roghed up, but very much alive and pent up for you. Once you were done relieving some of that frustration and cuddled up after a nice, hot shower, though, Kyle nipped your earlobe teasingly.

"No such level to unlock this experience, huh, angel? Something your app boytoy can't provide."

He caught your arm before you could elbow him playfully and grasped you tighter aroung your waist, using his free hand to get his phone and hold it in front of your face.

"Besides, I think he likes me more."

"How the fuck did you get to level sixty, Garrick?!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Twilight was peaking how many years ago? And they still have this stupid choice everywhere."

Simon, the unmoving domestic shadow spread in a comfortable sitting position on your couch for the daily quiet together time, turned his head lazily and gently squeezed your thigh, careful not to disturb your legs thrown over his lap as he leaned a bit closer with a mildly interested "Hm?"

"It's this dating game. They're making me choose between a vampire and a werewolf. Can't think of another conflict for the last decade, really? Why not elves versus orcs? They never make stories about sexy orcs. But there's a market for it! Why stick to the same broken record all the time? Or, I don't know, invent beef between fairies and mermaids!" You huffed in exasperation, waving your phone in a vague gesture meant to express your disdain for the lack of creativity in the supernatural romance visual novels department. Ghost's usual intense stare boring into your face could mean anything - from him silently judging you for lacking respect for the culturally impactful vampries-werewolves feud to a wordless question whether you were in the sexy orc enjoyers market.

But when he finally spoke, scarred lips slightly curled upwards in a hint of an amused smile and eyebrows raised, he asked what seemed to catch his attention much more than what fantasy creature you would like to bang.

"A dating game?" His smirk became more prominent, eyes narrowing as an indicator of him looking for a way to quip in the most unbearable way possible. "What's all that about, love?"

The fact that he didn't know wasn't that surprising, you'd be much more astonished if Ghost did know what a dating simulator game was, but the need to explain still caught you off guard, forcing you to pause with the expressive phone gesturing and actually try and describe the phenomenon.

"Well, it's a mobile game, where you, like... have to play through a story with the main thing being befriending and romancing characters. It's mostly reading a story, really, but you get dialogue options to unlock special scenes with your chosen romantic interest or you can give them gifts..." A stolen glance at Simon told you that he was surprsingly paying attention. "But there's often a plot too. The one I started recently is about, well, vampires and werewolves... a Twilight ripoff, basically, but the player gets to be Bella." You paused, gauging his reaction, but other than his calloused fingers kneading the meat of your thigh Ghost didn't even move, leaving you to look at him with suspicion mixed with amusement. "Want me to show you?.."

Finally, his hand stopped its methodical massaging, only to pat your thigh approvingly and help you sit up, cozily snuggled up to the man whose hoodie you shamelessly stole just to wear around him. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, Ghost leaned his head against yours and prepared for the highly educational lecture on the world full of opportunities to get turned down because of having too low approval with the character.

You showed him the exact story that got you so riled up, explained the quite primitive mechanics behind gaining attraction points with the characters and rehashed the entire plot up to the point where you were stuck now - the one where it was obvious the game wanted you to pick a side. Simon listened carefully, gruff chuckles at some of your grumbling and a lot of very insightful commentary on each and every character ("that one's got Johnny's fucking mighty schnotz" and " 'course he's a fucking twat, look at his bloody necktie, a hemp one would be an improvement on 'im"), inculding your own avatar that you spent considerable time making to look like you wanted.

"That supposed to be you, love?" He didn't even try to mask the snarky tone, and you definitely prepared to be offended. You put so much thought into the character looks! So what if they didn't match your real ones fully? It's the game limitations, not your fault. "Hmph. Maybe good enough for these two muppets to fight over. But I reckon I like my version better. Comes with high-quality visuals."

His arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you up for a short and sweet kiss, rough thumb stroking your jawline tenderly and pressing up under your chin when Ghost pulled away with a crooked smirk, shattered with scars into an artful mosaic.

"Trying to get your approval higher, sir?" You teased, eyes darting between his smiling - what a view, honestly - eyes and ready to be kissed again lips. His response was predictable. "It's working, innit, love? Think there's enough for a special bonus scene yet?"

Despite you clearly pretending to think and count his imaginary attraction points, Simon already started pulling you up into his lap, holding you securely and running his fingers along the curve of your back. "Might need a little more convincing, gamer. You didn't even bring a special gift to this date." Ghost's half-lidded eyes sparkled with hidden competitevness and his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he reached out to take your phone out of your hand softly.

"Gave you the hoodie. It counts." Ignoring your not very convincing protests ("It's mine already, of course it doesn't count!"), he tapped something on your screen and then put the phone away, wrapping his arms back around your form and slowly leaning into a tangled cuddlepile in an almost lying position. All your squirming successfully restrained with a bearhug, you huffed and placed your chin on Ghost's chest, looking up at him. He was there, with you, but deep in his gaze you noticed a certain swrling cloud of thoughts. Reading Simon's eyes was a must with him, he knew you could and didn't ever hide them from you.

"What are you thinking about?" You carefully inquired, running your hands over his shoulders and squeezing gently, a habit helping both of you to ease some tension. Simon blinked, tilting his head slightly, and let out a small sigh, seeking the right words. "You're not playing that game because I'm not doing enough, are you, lovie? 'Cos if you are, I'd rather you tell me what's wrong."

Always straight to the point. At least, when he finally decides to speak up. The big, scary dog worried about a silly mobile game as his competition? Cute. But the seriousness in his eyes called for a proper answer, not a teasing joke or a simple "aww, don't worry".

"You're doing more than enough, Simon, and you know it. It's a game, just living out my fantasies as the main character. But I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, it's no big deal, you know?" The tiniest bit of tension you felt underneath your fingertips disappeared, leaving Ghost sinking even further into the couch with you properly wrapped in his protective embrace.

"Nah, gorgeous, you keep playin' whatever shite you wanna be playin'. Just promise to keep me updated on the bloke so I can upstage him in every way." His voice got muffled since he buried his face in your chest, eyes closed peacefully and pure bliss written in all the relaxed features. Cradling his head, you hummed in agreement, but then perked up again.

"Wait, what bloke? You picked one of them for me?" - "Mhm." - "Oh come on, Simon, what happened to the freedom of choice!" You could feel his smile get more prominent despite being hidden in the softness of your chest covered with the thick hoodie material. "Which one did you choose? The vampire 'cause he's wearing all black?"

"Nuh-uh. The other one. The mutt."

You giggled at his choice of words and let out a quiet "oi" when Simon pinched you for disturbing his calm enjoyment of a "bonus scene" with the chosen romance option, that being you.

"Why? You're a Wolf Man fan or something?"

"'f course I am, love. He's British."

Captain John Price

When you saw the notification that the game you got sucked into with the active help of your friends got a "sound update", you knew what that meant - they finally added English voiceover lines for every single hunk of a man you had in your virtual harem, and you couldn't wait to hear what voices they gave your favourites. Given the nature of the game, you decided to put your earbuds on and started listening through the whole voicelines library, busying your hands with mundane tasks like folding laundry. John was sitting in the kitchen, fully immersed into his reading - potentially work-related. Or at least enthralling enough for him to miss your flushed cheeks or periodical giggling.

But no matter how important his reading was, what he couldn't miss was the sultry male voice coming out of your phone with a whispered "Wouldn't you love that, bunny?". Of course the parinig connection between your phone and the wireless earbuds had to get interrupted exactly when you were pouring yourself a cuppa and couldn't even drop the kettle in order to shush the suggestive purring of your digital fave.

You could feel Price staring at you. You could practically hear his bushy eyebrows slowly rising as he patiently waited for you to say something first. You were fully contemplating brewing yourself some poison instead of tea to avoid getting confronted by your man who just heard someone call you bunny on the phone.

So when you didn't start first, John, more amused than anything - he knew you too well to read through all your tiny microreactions and conclude that this wasn't hardcore evidence of an affair, but something much more suitable for future teasing (were you listening to porn or something? a naughty audiobook? oh so many golden opportunities to make you squirm under the steel gaze of the captain) - asked very nonchalantly: "What was that, darling?"

"What?" There was no point in pretending you didn't know what he's talking about, but you still tried. If anything, it allowed you to stall while you very hesitantly turned around and saw John and his smile, not even a hint of sterness in the round plumpness of bearded cheeks and little crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. "What was what, honey? You want some tea too?"

A futile attempt at deflecting and bribery rolled into one. You were lucky you were not his subordinate. You were unlucky the voice of some other man, dripping with mirth, came back into your ear once the next voiceline loaded in and the connection with your earbuds got restored. This was equal to admitting your crimes in front of the judges, but you slowly took your phone out of your pocket and hit pause.

"Does the tea come with an explnation who's the bloke whispering in your pretty ears, bunny? 'Cos if so, I'll take a cuppa, thank you very much."

He was beaming. Leaned back in his chair, knees wide apart and burly arms folded on his chest, Price wanted to have a wee little pause in his serious reading, and watching you squirm was the best distraction and brain-reloading he could ever get.

"I-it's not like that, I promise." Was that a bead of sweat running down your nape? John grunted, cocking an eyebrow and pushing his chin into his chest to stare at you from an angle that best conveyed that "I am not convinced, love" look. "It's just a little game, John, promise. Not a real man, just a made-up character."

Those piercing eyes narrowed even more, silently measuring you up for potentially bullshitting him, and then a heavy hand patted the broad thigh. An order, not an invitation (an order you could always disobey, though...)

"Show me."

Forgetting the option to disobey with little consequences, you hung your head down and dragged yourself and your fresh cuppa over to John, settling in his lap. The tea didn't even make it to the table, he snatched it from your fingers, careful enough not to spill, and sipped loudly, patting your side condescendingly. Any more stalling could result in various stages of burning buttocks, so you complied with the demand without Price repeating himself and opened the app, disconnecting your earbuds in the process.

He clearly wanted to hear that embarassing shit.

Your explanations of what a datesim was seemed to amuse John greatly - knowing his love for farming games, you made sure to mention all the best ones mixing the two genres, clearly trying to sweeten the deal.

"So wha', sum muppet in your phone callin' you bunny and you like 't? Maybe I should start too, huh?" You had to close your eyes to stop the internal screaming, and John's gruff chuckle hit your burning ear with a gentle puff. "But these, erm..." - "Companions." - "Riiight, these companions, they ain't whispering something... naughtier, are they?"

There was a hint of seriousness in his question, so you opened your eyes again and turned to look at him. His face was still smiling calmly, but the expectation was that of an honest and direct answer.

"Well, they do have more explicit scenarios and voicelines..." - "They talkin' dirty to you, eh? Guess I should step up my game." He flexed his jaw and leaned even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips over the tender shell of your ear, soft beard tickling you and leaving you helpless. "Can't have my sweetheart wooed by sum app game fockers, can I? C'mere you little bunny, Imma show you sumthin' to hop on."

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with a soft grunt and dragging you away from the forgotten phone and empty cup. No amount of "John!" squeaked out could save you from that bear of a man groping your ass before throwing you onto bed and climbing on top. His weight squeezed the air out of your lungs as he roamed his big palmes all over your sweet body, even more enthusiastic about the impromptu break in his work.

"Ugh, fine, Johnathan Price, I won't be listening to the spicy dialogues! Just let me finish my-" Absolutely futile, your plea to get back to housework you had planned got cut short by a deep kiss, John's tongue sliding in your mouth as the most efficient (okay, maybe, second most) gag he could use on you. Your hands, previously pressed against his furry chest in an attempt to push him off, relaxed and buried themselves in his thick hair, ruffliing it and tugging him closer by the strands. A low grunt let you know what you already knew and felt much lower - John fully approved both that and your promise to keep away from the horny digital harem.

"Why even bother with 'em bloody games when you can 'ave the real thing, huh?"

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Whit are ye smiling at there, bonnie?"

Before you could even process the question and come up with any answer (excuse) about the silliest giddy smile that a cutscene in your chosen romance route got out of you, your massive - the only way to not be thrown off by Johny "Can't Sleep Still" MacTavish - bed creaked underneath the impressive weight of a fine Scottish specimen. Like a curious pup, Soap squeezed his head through the loop of your arm, earning himself a choking cuddle in the process, and stared into your screen.

"No, Johnny, piss off! It's personal!" You scrambled to turn your phone away from him and held it to your chest, a traitorous warmth in your cheeks threatening to give away what kind of personal it was. Of course, Soap caught on immediately, playful glint in his eyes as he simply yanked the phone out of your grip and turned over onto his back, shamelessly using you as a pillow while he unlocked your screen (why the fuck were you two so trusting and shared passwords!) and looked at the animated cutscene.

And why did it have to be the first spicy one you finally unlocked?

"What's tha'? Didnae peg ye fur a hentai type, bonnie." Soap watched the looped animation for a few more seconds while you wrestled against his heavy fucking carcass helplessly. With a single tap he closed the cutscene and let out an amused hum when met with the continuation of your unlocked chapter. "Och, so ye're reading smut too? Naughty."

You squirmed visciously, fighting for your dignity as he started reading aloud through the desciption of what didn't make the cutscene. The experience was downright horrible, humiliating and arousing at the same time as Johnny's thick brogue and mocking tone killed every ounce of spice in the steamy scene and somehow added new ones. Along with his stuttering. This lad... you even tried to grab his arm and chew on the meaty muscle in hopes of distracting him, but he didn't even flinch, simply pulling his limb out of your grasp and putting it behind his head comfortably. Outraging.

"Slender aristocratic fingers squeezing supple..." he smacked his lips so loudly that you groaned, "...flesh nae hard enough tae leave marks, but enough tae el... elicit pleasure, his breath hot in yer ear, whispering... Hauld yer horses- how come is yer name 'ere, bonnie? Who's writing this fur ye?" You nearly bounced off the bed when Soap suddenly sat up straight, relieving you from his (quite welcome, to be fair) burden, and frowned at your phone, scrolling through the erotc piece as if he could figure out who was the author just from reading it carefully enough. The pout he turned to you with was nothing short of absolutely heartbreaking. "Who's tha' "Laird Sebastian" prick writing a' kinds of nasty shite he wants tae dae tae ma' leannan? Am ah nae enough fur ye, bonnie? Dae ye wanntae leave me fur some posh bastard wi' a stick so far up his arse tha' it pokes outta his yapper?"

It was so obvious that Soap was just taking the piss, but his bottomless puppy eyes with the longest lashes fluttering as if on the verge of tears were working their dark magic, crashing your train of thought like a whole gang of outlaws from the Wild West and coercing you into making an apologetic expression and reaching your arms pleadingly for a hug. "Aw, come on, Johnny, it's just a-"

"Ah dinnae think tis a good idea, love. Ah dinnae have slender aristocratic fingers, wha' if a'm awful lot o' a commoner tae yer tastes..." Soap tilted his chin up, a perfect depiction of dignity suffering horrible offence, and turned away defiently, immediately peeking back at you from the corner of his twinkling blue eye. You knew those little smiling creases too well to miss them forming despite him holding a pout quite successfully, so you scoffed, still slightly flushed from being caught red-handed, and rolled your eyes, snuggling up to Johnny from behind and starting to kiss behind his ear.

"I'm so, so sorry, love of my life. No posh bastards come nowhere near you, you're my favourite commoner. Fuck Lord Sebastian-" You realized you chose the wrong wording when Soap couldn't hold back a snort. "Aye, well, seems lik' ye were planning on doing exactly tha-" - "Oh shut the fuck up, MacTavish!"

Shut the fuck up he did, turning back to face you abruptly and tackling you into the sheets, lavishing kisses with his searing hot lips all over your face. A real mutt pouncing the handler he has no respect and all the love for. There was no choice left for you other than wrap all your limbs around Soap and writhe underneath him, nearly missing that very inconspicuous way he reached his arm out and dropped your phone on the nightstand before cradling your head for much deeper, sloppier kisses.

"Gonna show tha' laird sod how tae fuck mah bonnie real good, aye? Mak' ye come wi' thae fingers right 'ere, nae aristocrat bullshit." Lapping up your neck with his wet tongue, Soap planted a greedy kiss right underneath your jaw and sucked at the soft skin until it showed a little pinkish hue. The bastard was set on making you sing for him, big rough palms grabbing handfuls of your flesh, squeezing and massaging while Johnny kept decending down your body with clear determination. "C'mon, leannan, let me hear ye. Say yer ol' Johnny's better than tha' bawbag Sebastian."

Sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, you held his nape before tugging on his slightly outgrown mohawk, your own head falling backwards in an exhausted yet adoring sigh.

"You know it's just a game, right, loverboy? A dating simulator, not a real thing? Oi, watch it!" A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Soap chomped on your side and immediately nuzzled into your stomach to blow raspberries into the soft plush, catching you once you started squirming and giggling. No intention of letting you catch your breath until he heard what he wanted. "Fine! Fine, Johnny, you are so, so much better than Lord Sebastian."

Satisfied, he loosened his grasp on you and lifted his head, grinning like he's just won you over from somene actually threatening in terms of romance. Hooked his fingers into your housewear bottoms, slowly tugged them down and started trailing hot-mouthed kisses down from your solar plexus, sky blue eyes glazing over with the never-satiated hunger for your taste on his greedy tongue.

You held your breath. A joke was itching inside your mouth, begging to be let out, dancing on the tip of your tongue...

"You're lucky I didn't choose Duke Aaron's route. That's some serious competion."

"Och, away 'n bile yer heid, bonnie!"

Thank you for reading! I appreciate all interactions, likes, reblogs, comments and requests (send in anything for now! I can filter them myself, but I am open to smut, including rare kinks and some dark themes. Keep in mind though that I am limited by my skill & overall prefer sugary fluff. I will write for any of the task force 141 and baldur's gate characters, including parings, poly, x reader and x OC), I will write drabbles, headcanons and whatever else formats you can think of.

Also any corrections are welcome as long as you're not being mean! Thank you <3

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part seventeen

authors note: hi! this one isn't as long as some of the most recent, but it is fluffy! well, for the most part. next one will probably be a lil longer and def not as fluffy.....

also, ya'll fake asf for not telling me i put 'simone' as reader sister's name when it's 'bianca' at the end of the last update. i may or may not watch crime docs sometimes while writing......

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @msbigredmachine @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns

You don’t typically get nervous.

It’s just not a trademark of your personality, but for this….for this, there’s definitely a fair amount of trepidation. For one, outside of the fact that most of your favorite outfits suddenly seem too unflattering or fit a bit too snug. For two, you can’t seem to get your hair to cooperate with the same updo you’ve done since you were in your teens.

Not to mention the fact that you were so in your head about this damn lunch during your shower that you weren’t paying close enough attention as you were shaving down there and nicked yourself. On a fucking lip of all things. So now you walk with a bit of limp because that fucking cut keeps brushing, burning, against your underwear.

Truthfully, all of this just feels like a sign that you shouldn’t be doing this. That you should text Bianca some excuse as to why you can’t make it to lunch.

But, it’s the image of Callie’s sweet, smiling face and ardent excitement as you told her Bianca was coming in town and bringing Taylor that you realize you can’t do that to her. She’s so excited about seeing and playing with Taylor again that it feels almost cruel to take that away from her.

So pushing aside your injured pussy lip, crooked bun, and unflattering outfit, you do what needs to be done for the sake of your daughter.

And yourself, really. 

Of course, you got Callie ready before yourself, as she’s much much easier. So, it’s nothing to grab her once you’re done overthinking to head out and go. But not before snapping a selfie of the two of you and sending it to your close friends story and Joe. Cause God forbid this man learns what Stories are and how they work. 

You may not be thrilled with your appearance, but Callie is just too cute to not photograph.

You two arrive at the restaurant before Bianca and Taylor, which you’re mostly grateful for. It allows you to work through the remnants of your anxiety and catch up on a few texts. The first thing you have to reply to though is Joe who texts you in response to your snap.

Joe: Why does it go away so fast?

Joe: Just text me the photo.

His messages make you laugh aloud, forcing you to smack your hand over your mouth not to draw attention to yourself. Joe’s paltry skills with social media, or just Snapchat, really is both comical and sad as hell.

You shake your head, typing out your reply. 

You: babe, how many times do i have to tell you? just screenshot! 

Joe: That’s too much work.

Laughing again, you see Callie briefly look your way before she focuses her attention back onto her tablet. She’s been using it a bit more often than you’d like, but considering everything ya’ll have been through the past couple weeks, it’s hard to put limits there.

It is something to be mindful of though.

Hell, maybe she can help her dad learn a thing or two about how to work technology. 

You: i’m signing you up for some type of tech class or shit for your birthday, cause this is ridiculous. 🥴

Joe: Lol.

A thought then crosses your mind as you shoot him another text.

You: what do you want for your birthday, btw?

You: and remember, only one of us is rich. 🙃

Back when you and Joe were dating, the most he’d get from you is a birthday text or maybe some baked goods if he happened to be visiting near the time of his birthday. But, this is obviously very different. You’re now in a committed relationship, about to move in together to raise your daughter.

And with all Joe has done for you these past months, both financially and emotionally, it would be almost criminal to not get him something.

Of course, you also know that your man is just about as stubborn as you are, hence your expectation that he’ll simply say nothing or find some bullshit reason why you shouldn’t or don’t need to.

If only you actually planned to listen to him. 

And it’s also only March, giving you like two months to wear him down into just accepting your gratitude. 

Joe: Just say yes when I ask.

Reading his message makes you frown, your nose turned up in confusion. What is he talking about?

Joe: That’s all I need. All I want.

He’s successful in providing a nice distraction, sure, but this man is also confounding the fuck out of you. He’s always on some elusive, coy bullshit. 

You: what? what kind of man code speak shit is that? yes? yes to what? anal? 

You: we been over that shit. you’re too big. i’m down for anything but that.

Then again, Joe does have an uncanny ability to make anything feel good. And comparing a sexual experience with Amir to Joe is literally fucking apples and oranges. Much like his wrestling persona, Joe is on some ‘god mode’ type shit when it comes to sex.

Joe: Shut up. You’re gonna make me hard in this fuckin meeting thinking bout that pussy….

Naturally, you angle your body away from Callie a bit to ensure she has absolutely no way to see your phone, to see that message that has you pressing your thighs together. It’s definitely been too long since you’ve had him inside you, and him being nasty right now isn’t helping that. 

You: stop being nasty, please. callie is literally sitting next to me, and i don’t feel like soaking my panties.

You don't need your daughter knowing her parents are freaks.

You: i’ll see about when’s the next time we can come visit though 👀

Joe is hella deep in WrestleMania season, so it’s virtually impossible for him to get away, hence you needing to be the one to take her to go see him. Granted, you’re also busy as hell, trying to wrap up things at home, gradually transitioning to the house in Florida.

The house that you and Joe now officially own, because true to his word, as always, your name is on everything. You attended the signing with him which made it official. It’s also when you got to see just how much Joe spent on said house, the number nearly making you pass out in your seat.

Even more, to speed up the process and ensure you could move in much sooner than what’s typical when buying a house, he paid over the asking price. 

Cash.

It’s most definitely not possible to love this man more than you already do.

He follows up with another text shortly after, respectfully changing the subject in a way that makes you smile warmly. 

Joe: Don’t be nervous. 

It’s a bit unreal how good he is at reading you, even through texts.

You: lmao how’d ya know?

Joe: Cause I know you. 

Joe: You two already connected before you even realized who she was. Lean into that. Try to take your father out of the equation. This is about you and her. Not him.

Reading over Joe’s message once, twice, three times really does something to help your anxiety. He’s right. If you had never even known who Bianca really is, you guys would probably be even closer now, chatting it up frequently. There’s so much more potential there than there is danger.

You: thank you….i love you ❤️

Joe: Love you too, baby. Text me when ya’ll finish. 

Switching threads, you send out a few more texts and work out a date and time with Kaylah for her to accompany you and Alexis furniture shopping when Callie’s sweet, excited voice pulls you from your phone.

“Taylor!” Callie swiftly pushes her tablet to the side and climbs off the bench you two were waiting on when she sees Taylor’s smiling face.

“Callie!” 

It’s with an absolutely full heart you watch the two run to meet each other for a big hug, embracing like they’ve known each other for years.

Like they’re family.

“Hey….”

Your attention switches to Bianca who’s standing just a few feet away from you, clearly torn on whether to offer her hand, initiate a hug, or what.

Remembering Joe’s words of wisdom, you take a deep breath and hug her. “Hi, Bianca.”

You can literally feel the anxiety melt off of the both of you as you pull back and see she has unshed tears in her eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

You’re able to offer a smile, a genuine one too, especially as you glance over at the girls who are now sitting on the bench, looking and talking over Callie’s tablet. “I think it’s worth it just for that alone.”

Bianca looks and laughs. “She’s been asking about Callie.”

That dims your smile a bit, a strange sort of sadness. “Callie has been asking about her too.” You feel bad depriving the girls of seeing each other, scheduling out this meeting so far in advance, but it wasn’t entirely of your choosing.

The past three weeks since you found out Joe literally bought a house for three of ya’ll has been filled with nothing but preparing for the move. Working as much as you can, trying to transition your students as best as possible. Trying to figure out who to hire to move you all, flights back and forth from your town to Florida as you work on things for the house like getting the lights and water turned on and in your and Joe’s name.

Just a lot of shit.

So while you weren’t itching to pencil this in ASAP, you also would have been okay if it happened a bit sooner and closer to when you finally responded to Bianca’s text.

The four of you are escorted and seated in the restaurant, you and Bianca having Callie and Taylor sit in the booth across from you. 

This isn’t a conversation they need to overhear, not that they’d want to. They’re in their own little world.

After ordering and making small talk over your meals, Bianca is the one to make the first move. “I guess it’d be remiss of me to not start off with the big elephant in the room.”

There’s an unfamiliar sense of anxiety that starts to stir in your stomach, but you push it away, joking, “just one? I think we have a couple.”

She laughs and then starts off with, “I remember that day, you know.” Your confusion must show because she adds with an almost gentleness. “That day in the police station.”

And the anxiety is back, your eyes dropping to the plate of food as you try your best to keep your shit together. “Oh…that.”

“This probably sounds crazy, but….there was something about you that seemed familiar almost. But when I asked dad who you were….well…..”

“What did he say?” A part of you wants to know, but a large part of you doesn’t. So whether she answers or not, both are okay with you. 

There’s clear hesitation but she still answers, nonetheless. “He just said you were a troubled teen.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Typical. That man is bottom of the barrel trash, and if not for Bianca probably thinking decently of him, you’d say as such. “Of course he did.” 

“When I first asked him about you, he lied. He said he had no idea who you were, but I refused to let it go because…..because I could see the hurt in your eyes that night. I knew there was a story there, and I wasn’t going to give up until he came clean. And when he did…..” She shakes her head, tapping her fork against her plate. “We haven’t spoken since.”

That surprises you. You’d take a guess that Bianca and that man were close, or at least semi-close, so the fact that they haven’t spoken…..you feel bad. Not for him. Fuck him. But for her. “Bianca, regardless of what happened between me and….him…that shouldn’t get in the way—”

“I always wanted a sister, Y/N,” she interrupts, and you can hear the emotion arriving in her voice. “I begged my parents for years when I was a kid for them to give me a sister. And he knew. They both knew about you. They knew about you, and they kept us away from each other. He kept us away from each other.” She angrily wipes at her eyes. “I–I don’t know how to forgive that.”

Her emotions and feelings are valid. You feel the same way just for slightly different reasons, though forgiveness isn’t even something you’ve thought about. There is no forgiving that man for what he did.

But, just because that’s your story doesn’t mean it has to be Bianca’s.

“You need time to sort through it all,” is the best guidance you can give her. Anything more would be the emotionally blind leading the emotionally blind. “The same way I needed time before reaching out to you.”

She nods, sitting on your words. “And I really do appreciate you giving this a chance, Y/N.”

You’re starting to as well, but before things can move forward, you feel the need to set some ground rules. “I’m open to this….to getting to know you more, to letting the girls continue to know each other more, but…..I have a stipulation.”

Bianca swallows. “I’m listening.”

“Anything I share with you regarding myself and my family, I need it to stay between you and me. Your husband is fine, but your parents and brother…..I don’t want them knowing anything about me and especially my daughter.” Fingers nervously tapping against the table, you disclose, “I just had a really messed up situation happen that I’m still trying to fully process, so I’m even more protective of Callie and myself at this point in my life. And I like you, Bianca, but this isn’t something I can compromise on.”

“And you shouldn’t.” Her initial response surprises you a bit. A part of you was worried she’d try to convince you that you should at least be open to the possibility of getting to know the rest of the family. But given she’s not even speaking to her parents right now, your stipulation must not be a hard sell. “I completely understand, and I’ll respect your wishes. It’s probably better this way, actually.” 

Her agreeing and being respectful really means a lot to you, and you express as such. “Thank you, Bianca.”

Her smile is warm and welcoming as the both of you happen to glance over at the girls at the exact same time while they’re in the midst of a giggle fest. It makes you laugh as she asks, “so, you mentioned something about moving?”

“Yeah, umm, we’re moving to Florida with Callie’s dad.” For a brief second, you second guess telling her this information. Second guess how much you want to disclose. But, you decide that if Bianca is willing to meet you halfway, you need to do the same.

“Seriously?” you nod. “You know we live in Florida too, right?”

Yes and no. You remember Bianca telling you she lived further down South, but it isn’t until this very moment that you recall Bianca lives in Florida. You ask where and realize she’ll only be about 45 minutes out from your house.

Callie and Taylor are going to love this.

“So…..” She starts off, facial expression giving away that she has a question she’s burning to ask but is trying her best to keep to herself. “Callie’s dad…..”

Instantly, you’re laughing. It’s comical seeing her try so hard to be respectful. “You wanna know how we met.”

She releases a heavy sigh, planting both hands on the table. “Girl, you cannot just have Roman freaking Reigns fine ass be your man and daughter’s father and not expect me to ask.” Your laughter increases as she adds on, “respectfully, of course. I’m happily married. But, I still have eyes.”

Fair. Very fucking fair. “It’s….a bit of a complicated story.”

She darts her eyes over to the girls who seem like they’re still only in the first stages of play. “I think we have time.”

She’s not wrong.

Leaning a bit closer to her, extra mindful of your volume, you start of this wild yet epic love story. “So it all started at a Smackdown show….”

—------

“Alexis, why the hell is your mugshot your instagram profile pic?”

It’s a question you never thought would leave your mouth, nor something you thought you’d ever see. 

You still feel bad about that, about Alexis getting arrested for assaulting Mariah. Granted, it’s obvious Alexis doesn’t. Not one bit. She’s said as such to you, that she would do it all over again, arrest and all.

And it does help, slightly, that just as she predicted, the DA chose not to pursue the case on the grounds of lack of evidence. How much of that was Alexis being rich working in her favor vs there not being enough concrete evidence to sustain a case is beyond you. Regardless, you’re just happy she’s not in any major legal trouble because of you.

She looks over and flips her recent sew–in over her shoulder. “I look cute.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but Alexis looking amazing at any point and time isn’t a hard thing in general considering she’s naturally fucking gorgeous. “It’s a mugshot, Alexis.”

“And? Booking or not, I look cute.” You can see her observing some of the living room sets you two pass while making your way back to Kaylah and Callie from your bathroom break. Your bladder has been freaking irritating, with you needing to pee more than usual. And of course, Alexis couldn’t turn down an opportunity to snap bathroom selfies. “What about this?” 

Sliding your phone back in your purse, you see it’s a bedroom set, immediately reminding, “I’m waiting for Joe, Lex.”

“Girl, isn’t WrestleMania in like three weeks? You can’t wait that long to get a damn bed.” Before you can protest, she lifts an acrylic stiletto nail to silence you. “How you gonna be sleeping in a million dollar house on a damn air mattress, Y/N? You suck at this rich bitch shit.”

“I’ll be fine. We just need to get Callie something today. That’s the priority.” And it’s the truth. Callie having at least the essentials in her room is why you’re perusing this fancy ass furniture store in the first place. “As long as my baby is good, I’m good.”

“Whatever, but do you at least like it?” Her question is valid, so you observe the bedroom set. It’s a seven piece, dark wood, silver accents. “It is nice. Looks like something for a man too.”

That’s the thing though. You feel a bit wrong buying a bedroom set that’s for two people when only one is present. Joe made it clear he’s cool with whatever you get, but considering he’s paying for it, he should have a say.

Alexis then points out. “It even includes a full body mirror that way ya’ll can watch yourselves fucking.”

“Alexis!”

“What?” She smacks her teeth, hand on her hip. “Is it a lie?”

Your mouth opens and immediately snaps shut. She’s right. It’s not a lie. Joe loves making you watch him fuck you, finger you, eat you out. You name it. And it’s not like you object either….

But, that doesn’t mean you need it pointed out in a damn furniture store.

“Let’s just get back to Callie,” you murmur, certain that your cheeks are tinged red. Thank black Jesus for melanin to hide embarrassment in moments like this. 

Callie spots you before you can even catch her attention. “Mommy!” She runs over, taking your hand as she guides you over to a display. “Look!” Immediately, you can understand why she wants you to see it. 

It literally looks like something out of HGTV magazine. White bedroom pieces adorned with pinks, purples, yellows. All of Callie’s favorite colors. The bed is actually a bunk bed that’s designed like a castle, the larger bed on the bottom and the spiral staircase leading up to the second bed a bit smaller.

It’s so excessive and so Callie.

Kaylah comes beside you with a knowing smirk. “I think she’s found the one.”

“Can I get it mommy, please!” Callie is peering up at you with those big brown eyes, holding onto your legs. “We can ask daddy!”

That last part makes you chuckle. You already know that man would have his card out by now, signing for the transaction. Whatever she wants, he makes it happen.

You do ask though, looking for a price tag or something. You know it’s gotta cost a pretty penny with how excessive and grandiose it is. “How much is it…..”

“Who cares?” Alexis suddenly sounds, walking over with an annoyed expression. “You know Joe is good for it. Time to pull out one of those fancy new cards he got for you.”

She’s referring to the new set of debit and credit cards in your wallet, all the result of Joe adding you on as an authorized user on all of his accounts. For some reason, you’ve hesitated to actually use any of them, regardless of the fact that all of the shopping you need to do is for the house you’re all living in together.

Kaylah gently bumps into your side. “You already know what he’d say.”

His deep voice is in your ear as if he’s standing beside you. My little girl gets what she wants.

“Girl, he’d be at the register by now.” You laugh, looking down and bopping Callie’s nose. “Daddy already said you can get whatever you want, Callie Bear” Wanting to be sure, you lean down, asking, “is this really the one you want?”

“Yes!” She cheers, jumping up and down and hugging you. “Mommy! I’m gonna be a princess!”

Rubbing her cheek, you lean over to kiss her forehead. She’s not entirely wrong. Especially when she sees the surprise Joe is working on for her new bedroom.

Feeling slightly ganged up on but also content with making a purchase that will make your little girl happy, you stand up, announcing, “then let’s get it for you, baby.” Callie continues to celebrate at the pending purchase of her new bedroom set as you grab your phone to check the time. The OB-GYN happened to have a cancellation today, which works perfectly cause the initial appointment they gave you wasn’t until the end of April. So, you snatched it up. “Come on, let’s go use one these fancy new cards.”

Alexis nods with such pride, giving a fist pump and high five to Callie after Kaylah does the same. “Let’s fuc—”

“Alexis!”

—---------

After purchasing and arranging an expedited delivery date for Callie’s new bedroom set, the three of you head back over to the new house. Kaylah leaves shortly after, needing to go pick Ellie up from school. 

But Alexis stays and keeps Callie company while you shower and get ready for your appointment. Callie asks if she can come with you, and you explain that you’ll come right back home after, which seems to somewhat settle her. But, you can tell she still doesn’t like the answer. 

It’s something you make a mental note to discuss with Joe. 

She’s been asking a lot of questions like ‘when are you coming back,’ and ‘can i come with you?’. 

You’ve noticed an increase in her separation anxiety since the whole DCFS nightmare. Not that you can blame her. You also have a small amount of anxiety any time you have to “leave” her, a brief irrational thought that they could take her away from you again.

Yeah….definitely something to discuss with Joe.

The doctor’s office is only about a 15 minute drive from the house, which is super nice and the office atmosphere is automatically welcoming. Right off the bat, you feel comfortable. Approaching the receptionist who offers a kind smile, you provide your first and last name, explaining you’re here for a new patient appointment.

She types on the computer, asking in a kind voice, “were you able to fill out the paperwork?”

“Uhhh, no, I’m sorry. We’re in the process of trying to move here, so I’ve been back and forth, and it just slipped my mind.” You’re probably offering more information than what’s necessary, but as someone who gets heavily annoyed when people don’t follow through on tasks, you can understand if there’s irritation on her part. “But, I came a little early to see if I can just fill it out now?”

“Of course, honey.” Her voice is honey sweet as she rolls in her chair, grabbing a clipboard that has paperwork attached. Handing it to you, she explains, “just answer as best you can and be sure to signature and initial when it asks for either. If you don’t finish by the time they call you back, don’t worry about it. You can finish it with the nurse.”

“Thank you so much.” As she hands you back your drivers license and insurance card, you place both back in your wallet and find an empty seat in the waiting area. Using the pen attached, you start to complete the paperwork, unsurprised by how thick the packet is. Specialty doctors typically have a lot of information they need. Unfortunately, some of it requires you to pull up your phone to log into your MyChart. This makes the process take even longer, so much so that you’re only about halfway done when an older black woman, probably around your mom’s age, calls you back.

Seeing so much melanin instantly puts you at so much ease. You can see why Kaylah highly recommended this practice. You haven’t even met the doctor yet, and you’re already sold. 

The nurse, Helen, as she introduced herself makes nice pleasantries with you as she takes your blood pressure before directing you to stand on the scale.

It’s one thing to suspect that you’ve gained weight but another to actually have it confirmed. And that’s exactly what the scale does.

It’s nothing major, but definitely something to monitor. You’ve never been super anal about your weight, but you also know you have to keep an eye on it, to some extent.

Helen takes the incomplete paperwork from you, kindly explaining that she can just take the information from you verbally as she types it into the system. You’re grateful because your hand is already cramping.

Her questions are mostly easy, some requiring you to use the MyChart as well as dig deep into your long-term memory to retrieve those long forgotten tidbits of information.

But, it’s one question in particular that changes everything. 

“And what was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

Naturally, you unlock your phone again to open Flo, but your finger is hovering over the pink icon when it slams into you. A whirlwind of little things that create a much bigger, life changing picture.

Nausea. Vomiting. Emotionality. Breast tenderness. Weight gain. Frequent urination.

No cycle.

“Oh my god…..” Your phone drops in your lap as you bring your hands to cover your mouth, eyes wide and focused on nothing in particular. “Oh…..” How you didn’t put the pieces together much sooner is a bit beyond you. A large chunk of it, you’d guess, was because you chalked it all up to the high stress you’ve been under the past few months. Many people would react the way you did, but this isn’t just that.

It’s more.

So much more.

Helen is suddenly crouched in front of you, hand on your knee. “Is everything alright, baby?”

Watery eyes snapping to her, you nod fervently, starting to wipe at the tears that have already started to spill. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just—” You get choked up, releasing a perfect mixture of a sob and laugh. “The last time I was in this position, I sat in my doctor’s office bawling my eyes out because I was so scared and nervous and just not in a good place mentally. But now…..” It’s hard for you to fully explain all of the wonderful emotions coursing through your body. “I’m doing the same thing but for entirely different reasons.” Your hand goes to your stomach as you look up and tell her with the happiest voice. “I’m pregnant.”

————

It’ll take a couple days for the results of your pregnancy test to come back, as explained by Dr. Young, whom you already love and trust to assist you through your pregnancy. 

But, you don’t need test results to confirm what you already know.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that you’re pregnant, and that thought alone is enough to bring you to tears. It’s why you’ve been sitting in your car for almost half an hour just crying. Tears of joy, of course.

The first and only thing you want to do is call Joe. You want to tell him with everything in you.

But…..

You can’t.

Not yet anyway.

He was deprived of so much with Callie, lost out on so many special moments. You can’t do the same with this pregnancy. You need to make this as special for him as possible, from the moment he finds out to the moment he holds this new baby for the first time.

It’s why you know that you can’t tell a soul. Not Alexis. Not your mom. Not even Callie. 

Joe was the last to find out before, but he’ll damn sure be the first to find out this time. 

It’s also why you make the somewhat difficult to keep Callie out of the loop too. A part of you thinks it could be sweet to have her help you break the news to him, but you also don’t want to deprive him of telling Callie with you.

So, you decide that this has to be a solo venture.

The first thing you need to figure out is the timeline. Figure out when you can go see Joe to tell him in person, because with WrestleMania right around the corner, there’s no way he’ll be back here before then. You and Dr. Young predict you’re about 10 weeks along, which means you’ll be hitting three months in less than a month. That works out good, because you were about four months pregnant with Callie before you started showing, so there’s some grace there.

Granted, it is a little odd that you’ve already gained the amount of weight you have given you’re not even three months along…..

The phone ringing pulls you from your thoughts. The ringtone tells you it’s Alexis before you even look at the phone. 

It takes a second for you to gather yourself, knowing her perceptive ass will pick up on something right away if you don’t. Three deep breaths help you to feel adequately prepared before you hit answer. “Hey girl. I’m on my—”

“I swear to God, Y/N, I’m literally going to kill that bitch! I don’t even fucking care anymore! I’m going to prison!”

You’re used to Alexis being dramatic and over the top, but there’s an unfamiliar level of alarm in her voice. “Lex, wait, slow down. What are you talking about?”

She pauses on the other end of the phone. “Fuck. You don’t know yet, do you?” She curses. "Damn, I figured you did by now, considering my phone has been going off with notifications from all the major news outlets the past hour."

Your throat suddenly feels dry. “Know what?” She doesn’t say anything, so you snap, “know what, Alexis!”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone followed by her directing, “go to TMZ. Right now.”

Your panic instantly melts away. Alexis and her damn obsessiveness over pop culture. 

Sucking your teeth, you laugh and shake your head. “Girl, you are so dramatic. Had me thinking something happened.” Switching to speaker, you open up your browser and start to type. “This better not be about the housewives, cause…..” Your voice stops and stomach drops when the splash screen loads, allowing you to read the headline.

A headline that includes a picture of you and Callie. 

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: WWE SUPERSTAR ROMAN REIGNS LONG-TERM MISTRESS AND ALLEGED LOVE CHILD 

Click for pictures and videos! Read the scathing story and watch the exclusive tell all interview with mistress childhood friend!

[spicyspiders]

HEYYY I love your fics I seriously can't count how many times I've reread them, anyway so like you/n (amab pls) he's a Sargeant in task force 141 and they really don't know much about him, like barely bits and pieces he's just a workaholic and doesn't talk with them much, also for his personality pls make him cold and like scary kinda anyway so price literally had to order him to join him and ghost for a drink at the bar and they were talking and somehow the conversation led became more of a sex talk, reader is a virgin btw like that man has never even had his first kiss (but like he knows how sex works n stuff) and when he told them they were both like in shock n shit anyway so after that both of them just made it their mission to change that, randomly calling reader to prices office n him and ghost are just there, wait it's a lil hard to explain so basically price pulls reader on his lap, and kisses him, and immediately after ghost kisses him, they start off with like maybe a handjob or a blow job for the reader, who's extremely sensitive mind you, fingering him for at least half an hour while he's just a whimpering mess, ghost ended up popping his cherry since price got the first kiss, literally just showering him with praise, def got overstimulated, crying from it and it's probably the first time they've seen him cry, maybe a bit of fluff at the end oh and for kinks like just a shit ton of praise, overstim, crying, nd if u wanna add anything else it's cool

so sorry I didn't realise how long this is but if you do it thank you so much (*´˘`*)♡

I’m glad you like them! Here’s 5k words of smut lol I hope you enjoy!

“What do you want to drink?” Price asked when the three of you step up to the bar. 

“Water.”

You looked over at Price and Ghost, waiting for them both to put in their orders. What you received in return was an unimpressed look from both men, the bartender even had a similar look on their face. 

With a roll of your eyes, you order something else, “Bud Light.”

“Glass or bottle?”

“Bottle.”

“Do you want to start a tab?” The bartender asks, you look over to Price and Ghost and watch Price nod. 

“No,” you responded before handing the bartender your card. 

You felt the two men stare holes into you as you signed the receipt. You didn’t wait for them to order, instead, you made your way to an empty table. 

“Why am I not surprised you picked the most secluded table?” Price asked. 

“Do you want to sit at the bar?” You asked Price. 

“No,” Ghost said, responding for Price. 

“Maybe the next time we go to the bar,” Price said, settling down on one side of the table. 

“There won’t be a next time,” you respond, watching as Ghost sat down beside his captain. 

“Why not?” Price asks, taking a slow sip of his drink. 

“Too many people,” you say, looking around the room, “they stare too much.”

“We just got here and you already have someone eyeing you down?” Price asked, craning his neck to try and see who was looking at you. 

“Stop,” you hiss, the hand around your bottle tightening.

Price and Ghost exchange a look before Price chuckles. 

“Well?” Ghost asks as Price takes another sip of his drink.

“Well, what?” You ask. You felt an itch in your hand that was wrapped around the bottle. It reminded you of that contagious feeling of watching someone yawn. 

“Are you going to go talk to them? Or better yet, let them talk to you?” Price asks. 

You lifted your bottle to take a sip of your beer. You looked away from Price as you thought over his words, noticing how one of the patrons at the bar quickly looked away after you made eye contact.

Not that you really needed to think it over, “no, and what do you mean let them talk to you?” 

“You are pretty scary,” Ghost responds, like it was the easiest question for him to answer. 

Price claps a hand on his shoulder, “and this is coming from the man whose code name is Ghost,” he said, pulling his hand away with a chuckle.

“I’m not scary,” you grumble. 

It went quiet at the table for a few moments as the three of you drank what you bought. You were nearly done with your beer by the time Price spoke again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, of course, he was the one to speak. 

“What would you even do?” He asks, his mouth curving up on one side. Your eyes followed the upturn of his mouth, taking in his slightly darkened cheeks. 

You knew what he was asking. Of course you knew, “what do you mean?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

It didn’t work, not that you were surprised. You haven’t felt innocent in a long time. At least, not in all aspects. 

Price’s smirk turns into a full on grin, and you wondered if the ruddy color in his cheeks were from the alcohol, or the topic he was trying to bring up. 

“You know what I mean,” Price says, pointing a finger in your direction. 

You looked over at Ghost, wordlessly asking him with your expression if Price was serious. It seemed that they both were, to your dismay. Ghost looked at you, his brows raised in question.  

“I don’t want that,” you respond before looking away. 

“Sex?” Price asks quietly, like he wasn’t the one trying to bring the topic up. 

“Not right now, but maybe someday,” you glance over at Price and grit your teeth when you see his mouth slightly agape. 

“Wait,” Price says slowly, “have you never-“

“No,” you answer, cutting him off. 

“We have to change that,” Price says, seemingly ignoring what you had to say. 

“I told you I don’t want that— not with a civvy.” You clear your throat and ease your grip on your bottle, “I want someone more understanding of my line of work,” you clarify, looking away from the two men. 

You miss the look that Price and Ghost exchange. 

“It doesn’t have to be with anyone here,” Price says. 

“Do you have someone in another task force you’re going to set me up with?” You ask, feeling as if your eyes are about to roll out of your head. 

“Something like that,” Ghost mutters. The man groans after you hear a loud thunk under the table. 

You look back at the two men, your brows furrowed in confusion, 

-

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You ask when entering Price’s office. 

You stood stock still trying to ignore the presence of the other man in the room, but feeling his eyes on you made it difficult. 

“Is he supposed to be here?” You ask, sending a glance to the couch Price had in his office. Ghost sat on the couch, or more so he was spread out looking comfortable. 

“He is. It’s what we talked about, remember?” Price came from around his desk to lean against the front. 

You looked from Ghost to Price, “what’d we talk about?”

Ghost chuckled, “it would probably be easier if you showed him.”

In the line of work you were in, one of the first things you learned was to expect the unexpected. You expected when you came into Price's office to have a meeting, and you thought it was going to be about the last mission. What you didn’t expect was for Price to step up to you, invade your space, and press his lips to yours. 

It caught you off guard, and when you remembered that Ghost was also in the room, your body went rigid. Your hands stayed at your sides, not knowing whether you wanted to push the man away or not. Not knowing what not pushing away Price would bring was also confusing, making your mind race. 

Price pulled away after a few moments of you not responding. You guess that wasn’t a nice feeling. “I’ve never,” your mouth closes, not knowing the right words to use. Never kissed anyone? Never done this?

You had seen movies and watched television shows about the topic, and there had been men in the past that you wanted to kiss, but you simply hadn’t done it yet. Hell, you had even watched porn when that feeling became too much and you needed the relief. There was always that craving there though that simply just watching those things could never bring. 

“That’s okay,” Price whispers, “we’re going to take this slow,” he says before your lips meet again. Two of his hands find your face so he can fix the angle. You must be doing something right, you think, because when you respond slowly back to the kiss, you hear Price let out a soft noise. 

“Good?” Price asks when he pulls away. 

Your nerves are still there, not all quite gone yet, but with each passing moment, you feel them disappear. “Yes, sir,” you whisper back. You lick over your lips, a flash of something you aren’t quite sure of making itself known in your stomach when your mind flashes to what just happened. 

Price’s eyes track the movement before looking back into your eyes. He gives you a soft smile as he runs his thumb down your cheekbone, “none of that now. Call me John.”

“John,” you whisper, testing the name out on your lips. It wasn’t the first time you had called him by his first name, but you were used to the formality of referring to him by his title and his last name. 

“Good boy,” John says. He pulls you into another kiss, not letting you think over how the words make you feel. All you knew was that you liked the way the words made you feel. 

You’re still not quite sure where to put your hands as they hang at your sides. You choose to focus on the kiss, and how it makes your brain short-circuit when you feel John’s tongue swipe at the seam of your lips. 

You let out a noise similar to a whimper when John pulls away, “want to go sit down with Ghost?”

His words bring you back to the moment, your body heating up when you remember that you’ve had an audience the whole time. You’re fixed with Ghost’s warm gaze as you walk the few steps to the couch. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck, his warm fingers digging into the tense skin. 

You watch John at his desk as he grabs a few things from one of the drawers and places them on the desk. Ghost’s warm breath puffs at your ear as you feel his eyes on you. 

“You okay?” Ghost asks.

“Yes sir,” you respond, sending a glance his way. 

“What did John say?” He asks before he presses his smile into your neck. 

You almost want to roll your eyes, “yes, Simon,” you say, correcting yourself. 

“Good boy,” he whispered into the skin of your neck, making you shiver. You hated to admit it, but if it meant you would receive praise in return, you think you would start doing what it took. 

You always enjoyed praise, especially with the work you did. Hearing back after a mission that what you did was good, that it made the mission go smoothly, or that it meant you helped just one extra person made you feel like the effort you were putting in truly mattered. 

You knew that the work you did mattered, but you also knew that you were surrounded by a group of highly trained professionals, and knew that if you needed to be replaced, you could. 

You quickly became lost in what Simon was doing, as you had with John. He wasn’t kissing your lips, but he was pressing his lips to whatever skin on your neck he could find, and once he was done with each spot, he would move on to the next. 

When he added his teeth and tongue to the mix, you felt the tension leave your body. You went slack before your back fell into the couch. Maybe it was what Simon was doing to you that made the couch feel so comfortable, or maybe it was John’s position that led him to gain such a comfortable piece of furniture. 

Your neck as well went to the back of the couch, which only gave Simon more access to your skin. You never knew your neck could be so sensitive, you also never knew the pleasure it could bring. You were used to pain, and had even built a substantial tolerance to the feeling, but it felt like Simon was wrecking your hard work. 

You could feel your cock stir and grow when Simon attached his lips to your pulse point on your neck. He bit into the skin enough that when he sucked at the spot, you knew that it would leave a mark. You let out a low noise when Simon’s tongue ran over the spot, soothing the stimulated area. 

Your eyes fell closed and your mouth fell open when Simon’s other hand made its way to your hardening cock. It made you feel dizzy at the rush of blood heading south. 

You couldn’t help it when your hips jumped into Simon’s palm. His skin felt hot, even through the material of your pants.

Simon moves even closer and wraps the arm with the hand on your neck around your shoulder. When you open your eyes, you see just how close Simon is. His eyes are dark with lust and they get closer and closer. 

Simon’s lips were centimeters away from yours when John made himself known again. You shiver under the intense gaze he sends your way, but then your attention is stolen back by Simon. 

You hear John’s knees hit the floor before Simon pulls you into a kiss harder than the ones John had given you. You weren’t really sure what to do when you feel a tongue running over your lips that isn’t yours. The choice is made for you when a hand goes back over your groin and your mouth opens. 

You always thought it would be kind of gross to have another man’s tongue in your mouth, and it still kind of was now that you’re experiencing it, but it was the best kind of gross. It was kind of like the feeling you got after taking a shower after a long day. It was gross having built up a sweat all day, but it somehow made your shower at the end of the day feel even better. 

The noises you let out sound foreign even though they’re your own as Simon’s tongue makes its way inside. He maps out the inside of your mouth, starting with your front teeth and then moving back. You moan low in your throat when Simon’s tongue meets yours, and Simon answers with a moan of his own. 

You pull back from the kiss when you feel a pair of hands working your pants open. Opening your eyes, you see that it was John’s hand that was just on the bulge outlining your pants as he now works the garment open and down. 

“This is not what I meant by someone more understanding,” you pant down at John. You feel your legs tremble, but you aren’t really sure of the cause. 

When John notices, he runs his hands up and down your legs, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. “Do you want us to stop?” He questions. 

“No,” you gasp, your head falling back onto the couch as Simon bites another mark into your neck. 

John bites down on one of your thighs before moving to the other. He doesn’t linger like Simon, you notice. He makes quick work of your underwear and pants, tossing the clothing in a direction you’re too busy to wonder about currently. 

You let out a loud moan when John sucks your cock into the warm suction of his mouth. John’s strong hands keep your hips down so you don’t accidentally thrust into his mouth. 

You hear a chuckle in your ear before a hand quickly covers your mouth, “quiet, baby. You don’t want Soap and Gaz to hear do you?” Simon whispers into your ear. 

You don’t respond to Simon, too focused on the fact that he just fucking called you baby. And it’s also difficult to think of a response as John works his surprisingly skillful tongue around your cock. 

You feel sweat at the base of your neck, making the collar of your shirt stick to your warm skin. You want nothing more than to rip the rest of your clothes off, but your hands lay at your sides as you clench your fingers into the cushions. 

Your balls draw tight, but you aren’t able to warn John as your orgasm quickly approaches. You try to pull at the hand on your mouth, but Simon’s grip only tightens. The moans you let out vibrate into the skin of Simon’s palm as your orgasm finally hits. 

Your body trembles, John’s hands tightening as he swallows down all your cock has to offer. You whimper into Simon’s palm as John lets out a moan of his own at the taste of your spend, the vibrations of John’s noise traveling down your cock. 

John pulls off with a slick pop before he rises. He plops down on your other side and knocks Simon’s hand away. John kisses you wetter than before, his tongue making its way inside. 

You moan softly when his tongue meets yours and the taste of your cum on John’s tongue hits yours. He cradles your cheek in one hand, the other making its way under your shirt to find your sweaty skin. 

Simon makes his way into the spot John just was, your spent cock giving an interested twitch. 

John turns your face back towards his so he can press his lips to yours softly before pulling his hand away. John pulls your shirt off and lets out a snicker when he accidentally throws it at Simon. 

“Sorry,” John says, a sly grin stretching across his face. 

Simon tosses the shirt away with an unimpressed look. He pulls his own shirt off before lifting your legs onto his broad shoulders. He turns to press a kiss into the skin of your calf. One of his hands grabbed what you guess was a bottle of lube, likely one of the items John grabbed from his desk. 

You made a mental note to ask yourself if John had always kept those in there, and how many times he had used them. That is, if you could remember after what John and Simon are going to do to you. 

You let out a whimper at the feel of a cold, lube-coated finger between your legs at your hole. You look down at Simon, your cock giving another stir at the way Simon is looking at your hole. 

“Have you ever touched yourself down here?” Simon asked, his finger tracing a slow circle around your hole. 

“No,” you say quietly, not even sure why Simon was asking. 

“That’s okay, baby,” Simon murmurs, pressing another kiss to your calf. 

You let out a long whine as Simon pushed his finger in slowly. Your whine ended once his finger was all the way inside. It was only one finger, but it already felt as if it edged on too much. 

“Shh, love, we’ve got you,” John says softly into your ear. He showers your face in soft, comforting kisses as Simon starts to move his finger. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, his hand running down your chest until he reaches one of your nipples to play with. 

Simon’s finger moves in and out of your hole at a slow pace, letting you get used to the length and thickness.

Price turns your neck to press his lips against yours. Too lost in the kiss, it catches you off guard when Simon’s finger finds the bundle of nerves you always knew would set you alight. You had watched porn before and knew that most of the higher quality videos were fake, but from the amateur videos you had seen, you knew how intense prostate stimulation could be.   

You almost felt like one of the men in the videos. Without the studio lights, scripts, and cameras of course. 

“Feel good, baby?” John asks, his use of the pet name causing a rush of warmth to fly through your veins. 

You hear the men both chuckle at the sound of your loud moan when Simon’s finger runs back over your prostate. Like Simon had done before, a hand makes its way over your mouth, but instead, it’s John’s. 

You whimper into John’s hand when Simon pulls his finger from your clenching hole. It only takes a few seconds for his finger to be back, this time with a second finger accompanying the first. 

Simon pushes the two fingers inside as slowly as he did when it was just one. It was already intense with just one, but now with two, you could really feel the place Simon was carving out inside you. 

“Can you be quiet for us?” John asked into your ear. 

Simon paused, giving you time to nod your answer. It made you frustrated, but John kept you from pushing your hips into Simon’s fingers with a heavy arm across your hips. His arm brushes your hardening cock, which only made it worse. 

You nod quickly, hoping Simon would get back to what he was doing. Simon does continue on, at the same slow pace, letting you get used to the two fingers. 

“Good boy,” John says, before pulling his hand away. 

You bite your lip, holding back your noises as Simon spreads his fingers apart inside of you, opening you up. The burn brings tears to your eyes, threatening to quickly spill over. 

John adds to the burn Simon is causing, but instead of adding to the one inside your body, he takes to parts on the outside. He places kisses down your body starting at your cheek. When he gets to your neck, he pays particular attention to the skin around the marks Simon has left. 

You don’t know if it’s some type of weird possessive competition that John and Simon have going on, all you know is that it’s difficult to keep quiet under the attention John is giving you. 

You felt pricks of Simon’s stubble as he placed his spots on your neck, but with John, he had the added stimulation of a full on beard. His beard went over the spots that Simon had left as he made his own, reigniting the nerves. 

Once he was satisfied with the marks he had left, Simon continued his trail down your body. The next area he stopped at was your nipples. It almost felt similar to what he had done to your neck as he bit one of them into hard nubs. Once it had hardened, he ran his tongue over the heated skin. When he pulled off, the first was puffy and swollen, and as you watched him move to the second, you knew it would soon match the first. 

When John pulled away, that’s when your tears finally fell. What ultimately broke and made the tears fall was when John’s beard brushed one of your nipples. You raised an arm to your mouth to bite into the flesh of your arm to stifle your moans. 

You felt your cock give a throb as it stood fully hard. You felt your cock drool, a clear pearl of precum falling from the head, much like how your tears fell. 

You almost thought John was going to do what he did earlier and go back down to suck your cock back in his mouth. John fixed your cock with a heated look, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes tracked the movement as another glob of precum fell from the head of your cock. 

Instead, he pulled your arm from your mouth and pressed your lips together. John let out a hum of pleasure when your tongue found its way inside his mouth. Your tongues slid together in a slower rhythm than the way Simon’s finger was now steadily fucking in and out of your hole. 

John swallowed any moan that you let out, and answered with a louder noise of his own when your other hand made its way down to his clothed cock. 

You let out a whine when John broke the kiss, but it was only to create enough space that he was able to pull his clothes off. 

With each piece of clothing he would pull off, you would drag your eyes over the new skin he allowed you to see. You knew John was a muscular man, but what surprised you was the amount of hair that lay on his chest. 

You ran a hand up his chest, through the soft hair, all the way up until you could wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for another kiss. 

Simon was slow to add the third finger to the other two. You wondered how big Simon and John’s cock were, and if three of Simon’s thick fingers would even be enough. If three fingers already quickly left you feeling full, you wonder how Simon’s cock would make you feel. 

The wet noise of Simon fucking his fingers in and out of your hole rang loud in your ears. The sound nearly drowned out the soft smack of your lips when John broke the kiss. Simon’s fingers left your hole with a slick noise, leaving it feeling open. 

You expected another finger to be added to the mix, but instead felt the blunt head of Simon’s cock at your hole. He teased your entrance with the head, a breathy moan leaving his lips when the head would catch. 

Your legs fell from Simon’s shoulders before he pulled away to strip all the way down. His cock hung heavy between his thighs as he slipped out of his pants. You watched, mesmerized as the man grabbed the lube to slick up his cock. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the slick head at your entrance after he settled your legs back over his shoulders. 

“Breath, love,” John murmured, running a slow hand up and down your side. He kissed you, soft and slow when Simon started to push in. 

Simon’s hands were at your hips, gripping the skin in a steady grip. Once he bottomed out, leaving you feeling full, his hands moved up to your face to wipe away the tear tracks from your face. 

Simon swooped down to claim your lips in a wet kiss, like he was trying to make up for lost time while he had fingered you. 

What felt like a long few minutes later, Simon was finally pulling out. He watched his cock leave your hole until only the head was left pressing against your entrance. He looked up, not pushing back inside until you nodded. 

Your stomach felt full on each of Simon’s slow thrusts in. It burned as you continued to adjust to his length and girth, but what sped that process along was when his cock would graze your prostate. 

Simon’s slow pace soon sped up as you let out encouraging moans. His heavy balls slapped against your ass as he set up a fast pace. 

You only felt the pleasure Simon gave for far too short of a time than you expected. It took you by surprise when you felt your orgasm growing fast in your gut. 

You tried to warn John, but your orgasm quickly shot through you when the man reached down to grab your cock. Ropes of cum shot out, landing over John’s fist after he gave a few slow strokes. The rest landed on your chest, coating your heaving, sweaty skin in ropes of white. 

Above you, you could hear Simon let out a nearly animalistic noise as he went even after, chasing after his orgasm. His hands moved once again to your hips as he sped up. It made you feel used in a way that you didn’t know you could enjoy, like you were just a toy for Simon to use for his pleasure. 

Simon’s head fell back, his hands tightening to a bruising grip as his orgasm overtook him. He let out a long groan, the noise ending with a breathy, punched-out moan at the end of his high.  

The thrust of Simon’s cock after your orgasm into the swollen bundle of nerves in your hole sent you into overstimulation. By the time Simon had come, your tears had fallen again, relief coming in the form of Simon’s orgasm as his thrusts came to a halt. 

Simon pulls free from your hole gently, your hole gaping. It made you shiver knowing that if John wanted, he could thrust right in without a problem. He lowered your legs down from his shoulders slowly, using his deft fingers to massage at the skin in your thighs. 

Simon leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he flopped down onto the empty spot on the couch in a sweaty heap. 

Price makes his way in between your legs, his hard cock brushing your leg. He wrapped his hand around the base of his thick cock, pulling the foreskin down. The wet of his cock kissed your hole, stopping Simon’s cum that was leaking from your hole. 

You let out a high pitched whine when John pushed the head of his cock slowly into your hole, “I can’t,” you whimper, more tears leaking from your eyes. 

“It’s just the tip, baby. Can you take it for me?” Price asks, gathering up the mess on your stomach with his fingers. 

You nod, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep in another whine. 

“Such a good boy,” John whispers against your lips before he closes the distance.

John uses the slick mess on his fingers to wet his cock. He strokes along the length of his cock, his orgasm quickly approaching by the sound of his gasps and moans. 

John ducks his head into the sweaty crook of your neck and comes with a long moan. Still stretched open from Simon’s cock and with the aid of John’s cock, his cum mixed with Simon’s. 

You could feel the mess of the mix of their cum leak from your hole when John pulls free. The moment he’s free, it’s John’s turn to lift your legs to his shoulders. He holds you up by your lower back with his strong hands so he can lean down lick your hole.  

John alters between broad swipes and quick flicks of his tongue to clean up your sore hole. Your soft cock gives a twitch when John fucks his tongue inside, making sure he’s thoughroughly cleaned the mess he and Simon have made. 

John pulls out and gives your hole one last broad swipe before finally pulling away. 

You watch with heavy lidded eyes as Simon gets up and steps past the pile of clothes the three of you made. He returns with a cloth to wipe the three of you down. He tosses the cloth away into the pile when he’s done before he sits back down onto the couch. 

John ends up at your other side, his arm back around your shoulder. “You okay?” He questions. 

Wordlessly, you nod, leaning your cheek into the kiss he presses against it. 

“Good?” Simon asks, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yes, sir,” you respond to Simon, and swat his hand away when his fingers try to pinch at your side.

[lovebugism]

❛ i’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new to me. i love you. ❜ with our boy Steve Harrington please?

i wrote this after watching little women, so this is like that one laurie and amy scene but stranger things coded <3 hope you like it!! (this is 5k words btw and barely proofread 🫣)

The R.V. smells like coopery blood, alternate dimension muck, and nine teenagers who haven’t showered in three days. But despite all that, Steve Harrington is next to you, smiling. 

As if there’s anything worth being happy about now. 

He tells you about a dream with a hopeful gleam in his honey eyes, like he believes it’ll all come true — like death is staring him in the face. “I know it’s silly, but I… I always dreamed I’d have this really, really big family. I’m talking like, uh— a full brood of Harrington’s. I don’t know, five… Maybe six kids?”

“Six?” you repeat with an incredulous laugh. You turn your body in the passenger seat to face him more, shoulder pressing into the worn pleather. You’ve got your brows raised to your hairline in shock at his admission and a beam on your face you don’t realize is there.

“Uh-huh. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys,” he says with an assured nod. There’s a distant smile hinting at the edges of his lips, and he looks at you with it for a moment before turning back to the road again. 

“And every summer, I figured all of us Harrington’s, we’d pack into something like this, and… just see the country. You know, the Rockies, the Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. We’d end up in some beachside town in California and spend a week parked in the sand, maybe learn how to surf or something.”

You can picture the dream so effortlessly, almost like it’s one you’ve had yourself. 

In some ways, you did.

Steve Harrington was the kind of boy that filled you with butterflies and childlike daydreams. It was more innocent than lusting, more significant than a teenage crush. There was a time you’d wanted to be with him so badly that you could barely breathe. It kept you up at night, fantasizing about a future with a boy that didn’t want you. It haunted your dreams just as often.

You were, perhaps a bit begrudgingly, a part of that stereotype — a girl who wanted all of the things adults thought girls wanted. You longed for a pretty white dress and a husband that cried when you walked down the aisle. You wanted a small house with a white picket fence, a home that’s always loud with laughing children and barking dogs and loving parents.

It was a future you only wanted with Steve.

But he didn’t love you. Not the way he loved Nancy.

Not the way he still loves Nancy.

It’s not a crime he needs to confess to for you to know he’s guilty of it. You can see it written all over his face, in the way he talks about his future family and flits his gaze from the winding backroad up to the rearview mirror to look at her. He’s picturing her in his head the way you picture him in yours.

Knowing someone else is a part of this dreamt-up family and not you is a bitter pill to swallow.

It has you looking back too, at the gang of ragtag soldiers you’re about to save the world with. You glance over your shoulder at all of them, finding them dozing or outright sleeping in the back of the R.V. 

You don’t blame them. The past few days have been hell.

You’re just glad Max has finally found a moment of peace. The redhead lazes between Lucas and Dustin on the couch in the very back. She rests her head on the former boy’s soldier, but you can’t tell if she’s sleeping or not. Lucas has his eyes closed but a smile on his face as he lays his cheek on the crown of her head.

Dustin, on the other hand, looks dreadfully out of place among the two lovebirds. His head is tilted back and his mouth is wide open. Soft snores spill from his throat.

Erica, Robin, and Nancy all sit at the tiny table beside the tinier kitchen. Their heads are either resting on their folded arms or pressing against the window.

The small cushion adjacent to the couch is taken up wholly by Eddie. 

Your Eddie.

His long legs are spread and his back is slouched against the side of the R.V. He’s taking up every bit of room the thing has to offer, which wasn’t very much to begin with. His pink lips are parted and slightly chapped. He blows soft exhales from them that make his chest rise and fall with even breaths. 

Your hands begin to ache with the want to run them through his wild strands of hair, to ease his head to your chest and let the sound of your heartbeat chase away the nightmares that threaten to plague him.

You want so badly to sleep alongside him, but you know that slumber won’t come as easily to you.

Despite the exhaustion that weighs down your tired bones, whenever you close your eyes, you can only see Chrissy’s mangled body on the ceiling of Eddie’s trailer. The image of broken bones and sucked-out eye sockets is stained on the back of your mind.

It’s something you’ll never forget. Not in a billion, trillion lifetimes.

You’re scared you won’t ever sleep peacefully again.

But you’re glad Eddie’s finally resting. Even if you can’t. 

And maybe that’s what love is.

…Love.

You almost can’t believe you’re calling it that. It’s not like you’ve told him as much or anything. You haven’t been together very long, only a few months, but you’re not sure what else to call this feeling. Is it normal for you to want to fight the most powerful dark wizard known to man with your bare hands as long as it means keeping Eddie safe?

The realization that you’re actually moving on from Steve is perhaps more shocking. You were starting to think you’d be fawning over him for the rest of your life, destined to be alone forever while he got married and had kids. But then Eddie came out of nowhere. He swept you off your feet without even trying.

You’d spent so much of your life in love with Steve that you’d forgotten how it felt to be loved. But Eddie reminded you, most ardently so, and you’ve never been happier.

And Steve can see all that.

He can see how you’ve gone to hell and back — quite literally — to keep Eddie safe. He can see how Eddie still manages to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, even though death looms overhead like a big, gray storm cloud. It almost makes him angry. Not at Eddie, exactly. And certainly not at you. He’s more so mad at himself for waiting until you were out of his grip entirely to need you like air.

Steve wasn’t an idiot; he knew how you felt about him. He’s known for years. But Nancy was the only girl in his purview for… an embarrassingly long amount of time. Maybe that’s because she didn’t want a single damn thing to do with him at first, and it wasn’t like Steve to back down from a challenge.

But you? You were easy. You were always going to be there. Your love was the only constant thing in his life.

And then it just… wasn’t.

It was like his center of gravity had suddenly shifted or his feet had been knocked out from under him. The loss of you, of something that was never his to begin with, jarred him like he’d been awake with most vigor. Now, he finds himself living in a nightmare — forced to watch you fall in love with someone else while he ebbs slowly from your mind.

You sit with him now — with Eddie — while he and Dustin fuck around with the shields they’d crafted out of tin garbage can lids. You watch them with a smile on your face even though you’re shaking your head at them and telling them something that Steve can’t hear. 

You’ve got a sword in your hand, and you sharpen its steel with a rock. The too expensive thing had been hanging on the wall at The War Zone, and you told Eddie you just had to have it. 

“I’ll just… take up extra shifts at Wayne’s shop,” you reason with a shrug, gaze never leaving the bladed weapon.

“Do whatever you want,” the brunette boy responded nonchalantly as he dropped four cases of ammunition into the red basket in your hand. He smiled down at you. “That just means I’ll get to see you more.”

It hurts Steve for you to be so far away from him. 

You’re just across the small clearing. All he’d have to do is walk over to you, really, but it’s more than just the distance. No matter how close he gets to you, or how far you get from Eddie, your soul’s always going to be with him. 

Steve will never have you like that, and that’s what hurts the most.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of keeping a stiff upper lip about it. He thinks he’s keeping some deep, dark secret, having no idea that he’s all but spilling his guts to Robin. Honestly, he’s just trying to make conversations while they make homemade bombs out of gasoline and glass bottles, but he’s more than obvious. As per usual.

“How long do you think they’ve got?” Steve asks her out of the blue while he pours the chemicals through the funnel and into the flask Robin holds out for him. He doesn’t wait for an answer. 

“Because I thought they’d be over forever ago, you know? I mean… it’s Eddie. She’s, like, totally out of his league, right? But I’m pretty sure they just had an anniversary or something because I saw him buying flowers at Bradley’s Big Buy the other day…”

Robin opens her mouth to get a word in, but Steve just keeps on going going going.

“Unless you think they were for someone else? But let’s be serious, right? He’s a freak, but he’d never do that to her. I don’t know… Maybe he’s just the sorta guy that gets her flower for no reason, and it hasn’t been as long as it feels.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they—”

“Let’s face it, if he’s doing that for her, they’re probably gonna make it, right?” the boy laughs bitterly to himself. He stuffs a rag into the neck of the bottle. “God, I’m such an idiot… Maybe if I’d done those things, I’d still—”

“I swear to god, if you say you’d still be with Nancy, I’m gonna punch you in the forehead,” Robin snapped suddenly. She’s got a foreign sternness to her tone and a glacial hardness in her blue eyes. She glares at him with it. “You don’t love Nancy, Steve. And she doesn’t love you. So stop going for the easiest thing when you know it’s not what you want.”

He sighs. He knows she’s right. “I just—”

“I get it. It sucks being lonely. I’m pretty sure I’m destined to spend the rest of my life alone, so join the club,” Robin smiles, a tad bit cynically, at him. “It sucks being in love with someone you can’t have. Trust me, I get it. But you need to move on.”

Steve swallows. He almost winces at the thought of that — of never having you. He shakes his head as though to get rid of the idea entirely. “I can’t… I can’t do that, Rob.”

“Then what are you gonna do, Steve?” she asks him with a mirthless, but not unkind laugh. 

She nods her head over to you. You laugh as Eddie spins you in his arms, both of you marveling at how you’ve just nailed a tree on the far edge of the clearing with the knives you’d thrown at it. Steve can hear the sound of your bubbly laughter from where he sits. Its brightness rivals that of the setting sun. 

“Look at her. She’s happy. Finally. So… Just let her be happy,” Robin advises with a shrug. She sets the glass bottle in the box with the rest of them. “I mean, we’re about to stop a dark wizard from ending the world, you know? Some of us probably won’t make it out—”

“Don’t say that,” Steve scolds.

“Some of us probably won’t make it,” she repeats, firmer this time, like it’s something he really needs to hear. “Something could happen to Eddie. Something could happen to her. Do you really want to be the selfish asshole that ruins what could very well be everyone’s last moments together just because you’ve got a bleeding heart?”

She’s being harsh. He knows it deserves it. Now is virtually the worst time to tell you everything on his mind — just when you’re starting to really settle down with Eddie and about to fight some wizard in an alternate dimension.

Something could happen to her. Those words left Robin’s mouth and stabbed him in the heart like a thousand unforgiving knives. Steve can’t fathom anything ever happening to you. Even with the end of the world, with all of you about to fight a war, it never crossed his mind. He can’t picture his life without you in it.

He can’t lose you without telling you how he feels — that he loves you, that he’s always loved you, and that he’s an oblivious idiot who learned that too late.

He can’t lose you at all.

So, against his better judgment and Robin’s sound advice, Steve abandons his work with her and hikes the relatively short distance over to you.

Eddie hasn’t yet let go of you. He keeps his arms tight around your waist and hugs you from behind, pressing the back of you to his chest while his chin sits along your shoulder. His chocolate eyes are stuck on the bullseye you’d carved into the bark of the tree on the far side of the clearing. The four knives you’d thrown, now stuck at the very center of the target, stare back at him.

“This is probably a bad time to be turned on, huh?” he half-jokes, chin bobbing against your shoulder with every word.

“Eddie!” you scold as you wrench yourself out of his grip.

Dustin’s face screws up from where he lounges on the grass beside the both of you. “Gross…” 

You walk away from the two boys to collect your knives from the poor oak tree. Eddie whistles lowly at you while you go — as though he’s never seen you in a pair of jeans before. You throw your middle finger over your shoulder at him in response.

That’s when Steve catches you, when you’re finally alone, and with a tiny white lie of needing to go back to the R.V. for more gasoline. You offer to walk with him, just like he figured you might, because none of you wants anyone to go off alone. Not with Vecna potentially watching you.

You walk alongside him through the thick wood, dodging low-hanging branches and uplifted roots. Steve notices the distant smile dancing on the corners of your lips — a beautiful stain Eddie’s left there.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks you suddenly. “You know, when this is all over?”

Your brows raise at his question, mouth falling softly agape and eyes widening with a far-off look. You look stumped by the simple inquiry, like it’s something you hadn’t thought of yet — of any of this being over.

“I don’t know…” you murmur. “Go back to work, I guess.”

Steve laughs. “We’re gonna save the world tonight, and you’re gonna be back in the office on Monday?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll take a sick day,” you joke, just to hear him laugh again.

He lifts a splintered tree limb to get it out of the way for you, then ushers you to walk ahead of him. You mutter a low and shy “thank you” as you walk beneath it. He lets the branch fall again as he follows behind you.

“What about you, then?” you retort. “What are you gonna do after? Since going back to a nine-to-five is so unreasonable.”

“Actually, I was thinking about writing an opera,” Steve quips with a straight face. “I would be the main character, of course—”

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle with the shake of your head. The airy, sunshine sound makes him smile down at you. His honey-tined gaze swims with longing. You don’t catch it because you’re not looking back at him.

“What do you want me to do, then?”

You tilt your head to catch his stare. Your eyes sparkle and your brows arch with a look both soft and stern. “Honest answer?”

“Of course.”

“I think you should go work for your dad. Try and… I don’t know… make something for yourself—”

“Alright, that’s not…”

“—Because you can’t work at Family Video forever, Steve!”

“You’re not playing fair,” he concedes quietly, laughing under his breath and shaking his head.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less — you did preface an honest answer, after all. It doesn’t make him feel any less bad about it, though.

You’d supported Steve through a lot of shit. Every mindless fight with his parents, every breakup that had him swearing he would never love again, every aspect of his douchebag phase that almost ruined your friendship. You were always soft with him, but never dishonest.

So when he told you that his dad offered him a well-paying job in Indianapolis, it didn’t surprise him when you told him to take it. Despite all the other shit (his broken relationship with his father and his incessant daydreaming of settling down with Nancy, namely), you knew he wasn’t happy in Hawkins.

“Fuck your dad, Steve. This isn’t about him,” you’d said. “You should take it! Starting building your life in the city! And when you’re finally making more money than your stupid dad, you can rub it in everyone’s stupid faces.”

Steve, of course, ended up turning it down.

The salary was high — too high for a boy just out of high school — but he figured no amount of money was worth a wounded pride. 

Steve was scared that it was all a ploy, another thing his dad could hold over his head, another accomplishment that wasn’t really his. And, truth be told, he was less enthusiastic about leaving Hawkins without you. He isn’t quite sure where he’d be in life without you guiding him through a significant portion of it. It made it nearly impossible to picture a life that didn’t have you at the very center of it.

He happily took to be Robin Buckley’s schmuck at Scoops Ahoy (and then again at Family Video) and Dustin Henderson’s unofficial chauffeur instead. He didn’t mind being a casualty of rattrap small town as long as it meant he didn’t have to stray too far from you.

But here you were now, right next to him in this lonesome forest, and still so far away.

You meet his boyishly forlorn expression with a sincere, tight-lipped smile. “You know that I’m right.”

“Yeah, I do,” he scoffs in response. “That’s the problem.”

“When we kill Vecna and save Hawkins for the… thousandth time… You should take that job. I mean, screw your dad, you deserve a life outside of all this shit—”

“So do you,” he argues.

“I’ll make it without you, Harrington. I’ll try to, anyway,” you quip, turning your gaze up to the family of birds sitting high in an oak tree and wishing you were one of them. You shrug to yourself. “I’ll keep on being a secretary at the car shop… Maybe settle down with Eddie.”

That makes Steve stop dead in his tracks. He laughs bitterly to himself, a quiet and venom-coated scoff. “Right. Because living with his uncle in a one-bedroom trailer is such a dream.”

It makes you stop, too, and turn on your heel to face him. You’re surprised to find him so many paces back. Steve sees a flash of hurt strike like lightning across your features, but he’s too hurt to apologize.

“I get it,” you concede with a small, cynical smile. “You don’t like him. You never have. But… He’s a good guy, Steve. If you just got to know him—”

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, cutting you off before he has to suffer through a list of reasons why Eddie’s so much better than he is. The boy’s gaze falls to the forest floor. He kicks a bunch of green pine needles with the toe of his sneaker rather than meet your prying gaze.

“Then what is it?” you retort. “Because I was just trying to help you. I didn’t say to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever. I just know that you want a life in the city, with a big house and a whole bunch of kids—” A laugh spills from your lips as you remember the dream he was telling you about. “You want that picture-perfect life, right? Now you can have it!”

“You don’t know what I want,” he counters quietly.

“Oh, please. I know you better than you know yourself, Steve Harrington—”

“Break up with him,” he blurts.

Your playful smile fades almost instantly. Your eyes search his face for any hint that he might be joking, but all you find is a deeply heartbroken boy. His bushy brows are scrunched together, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears, a puppy-like hurt painting each of his features.

You match his expression of grief with your own. Your face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and sorrow. “Wh… What?” you manage to stutter after realizing you’d been holding your breath.

“I don’t want you to settle down with Eddie,” Steve confesses. A secret he thought he’d take to his grave before ever telling you.

You’re quiet. For several long moments, you’re eerily silent. Even the forest hangs on bated breath. Birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, leaves stop rustling. It’s just you and him and a great big world waiting on the both of you.

A frown pulls down the very corners of your mouth. Your eyes go glassy and wide, like a heartbroken baby, and your head jerks back softly, still defensive and unsure.

“Why?” you force through a tightening throat.

“Why?” Steve repeats, finding it somehow within himself to laugh. He takes several short strides to stand with you again. With him closer now, you can see the sadness in his smile and the flush that blotches his cheeks. “You know why…”

You only shake your head in response. The words are far harder to get out. “No…”

“I just… I know it feels like I’m saying it all of a sudden, but it’s… It’s not new to me, you know?” Steve tries his best to explain to you why he’s choosing now, of all moments, to pour his heart out to you. His eyes are as wide and hopeful as the palms he waves out in front of him. “I don’t wanna go into this without you knowing how I feel about you—” 

“Steve,” you agonize in hopes of ending his rambling. “Don’t.”

“—And I just want you to know, in case something happens, that I love you.”

“No,” you say with the defiant shake of your head, your chin quivering and your gaze ice-cold.

“Yes,” he replies, just as stubborn.

“Steve…” you choke out when the name gets hung in your throat. 

A warm tear falls from your lashes and onto the very apple of your cheek. You wipe it away with the back of your hand and use your free one to bat Steve away when he tries to reach out for you. You stumble back from him, heading back the way you came — back to Eddie.

“Don’t, Steve. Just stop it.”

“Why?” he grieves in the softest voice he can muster, wet and warm with his hurt.

“You’re being mean,” you scold.

“I’m being mean?” he echoes with a sad sort of laugh.

“When it comes to you… I have always been second to Nancy. Always. And I won’t be the person you settle for just because she doesn’t want you, Steve,” you rant, voice fragile like glass or flower petals. 

He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Nancy — that being with the person he loves won’t be settling — but you continue in your lament, and he misses the chance.

“I can’t… I won’t do it, okay? Not after I’ve spent my entire life loving you,” you confess to him, face scrunched in anger. It’s a subtle sort of rage, pointed both at him and yourself.

He watches, feeling totally helpless, while you wipe bitterly at your damp cheeks. Steve’s seen a lot of assholes make you cry. He never dreamed he’d be one of them. 

Robin was right. He’d ruined everything. It seems to be the only thing he’s good at these days.

“I’m sorry,” he calls to you as you walk away. “I wasn’t… I didn’t say it to make you sad.”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all!” you shout back, angrier than you’ve ever been with him. You take in a stuttering breath and exhale a shakier sigh, trying to calm yourself down again. “I just don’t get why you waited so long…” you agonize, words wet with tears. “Why did you wait until I was happy? Eddie… Eddie’s so nice to me, Steve. And you just… You just throw this shit at me right before we... That’s not fair.”

“I know…” he murmurs. “I know…”

The world starts turning again. 

Birds sing their songs, sounding somehow sadder than before, as though in lament for the brokenhearted boy. The wind begins to whistle as it brushes through the trees. It’s only half successful in breathing air back into your lungs.

A rustling of the brush gains both of your attention’s. It sounds like something is slithering somewhere in the thick laurel — a rabbit, a snake, a dark wizard out to kill a bunch of sad teenagers. 

You and Steve are alone, heartbroken, and clear targets for a monster who feeds on traumatized kids.

Though it’s entirely unlikely that Vecna has crawled out from the depths of the Upside Down and into these woods, you and Steve reach for your respective weapons anyway — him for the axe strapped to his back and you for the knives hanging on your belt. You’re ready to protect each other despite your distant anger.

But instead of some shriveled skin creep, you find freaks of a different kind.

The pale human faces of Dustin and Eddie peek out from the brush with curious smiles. They maneuver through the thicket and try to avoid the thorns. “What’s going on over here, huh?” the oldest boy wonders with his signature sparkling grin.

It’s almost scary how you so easily contort your features full of grief into a sickly sweet, artificial smile. You swipe the back of your hand over your face again to clear the tears clinging to your lashes, though it looks like you’re only wiping away sweat.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly with the innocent shake of your head. “Steve was just being an idiot—”

“Imagine that,” Dustin scoffs.

“—And saying stuff he doesn’t mean.”

“That’s not true,” Steve mutters, then clears his throat when the words come out more choked than expected.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t out here making moves on my girl, Harrington,” Eddie lilts with a playful smile. He reaches you and wraps a heavy arm over your shoulder to tuck you into his side. 

His sudden touches stopped surprising you a long time ago. You realized early on in your relationship that he can’t go without touching you for very long.

Eddie squints teasingly at Steve. “Go get your own.”

The boy doesn’t have a comeback at the ready. He isn’t sure of what to say, anyway. Eddie’s jokes aren’t as funny when they aren’t jokesanymore. He was just sort of professing his love to you and getting his heart stomped on in the process. He should probably be used to the feeling by now, but it stings like it’s brand new.

You’re grateful for Eddie’s appearance and the bickering that seems to follow him wherever he goes. It’s easy to get lost in his words, let all the sarcasm run over you, and forget the bullshit that came before it.

“We should head back before the others think we got abducted by Vecna or something,” you urge, desperate to get away from these woods and from this moment.

Dustin listens to you without question because he always listens to you. And Steve listens because he wants an escape just as much as you do. He’d rather go back to Robin and all her “I told you so”’s than keep watching Eddie hold you like he is now.

“What do ya say we skip this joint and have our own fun out here?” the wild-haired boy jokes, already leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth.

“Eddie, don’t—” you huff, but otherwise don’t fight him. It’s only an innocent peck, a loud smack upon your lips, that makes Dustin mutter “gross…” under his breath as he walks away. 

And if he heard it, that means Steve heard it.

You keep your eyes open all the while. You feel a bit numb, actually. A little like you’ve just kissed a ghost. You feel as cold as one, as distant and not all there. Eddie holds your hand the entire walk back to the clearing, but you have a hard time feeling it.

You feel a bit like woods surrounding you. You’re all crowded and heavy with sadness. You can’t tell if your grief is your own or if you’re feeling Steve’s too, because you can’t seem to take your eyes off him.

There’s an entire forest within you, you find, and Steve’s carved his initials into every tree.

[lilystyles]

watermelon sugar, highhhh.

part two of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part two baby, enjoy! i hope you all like it i'm still a bit iffy about it! gif creds to original owner. BTW THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES KISSES TO U ALL I APPRECIATE ALL THE REBLOGS AND LIKES XX (i can't believe the amount of likes fr!)

brief description basically why harry wrote watermelon sugar high, in my head at least anyway. ;)))

warnings! mentions of sex and sexual themes, smut! (f! receiving, fingering) drug abuse (reader doesn't participate), and swearing. around 5k words :)

inexperienced!virgin!reader x high!fwb!harry

* * * * *

It had been a few weeks since she last saw Harry. She had been avoiding the whole situation completely. If someone asked her she’d deny avoiding him. But whenever she shut her eyes all she saw was him, those green eyes. So he wasn’t forgotten.

Y/n was absolutely ruined that evening. After her long day of lectures, she was so overwhelmed this week and was not feeling her best. She felt like giving up and taking a nap. She had only just gotten home from uni and it was dark outside, she felt like she hadn’t stopped all week. So she was thankful it was a Friday because she didn’t know what she’d do if she had to get up tomorrow morning. She decided to take a long shower and wash the day off her skin and warm up. It had been a long cold and rainy day. She just wanted to get cosy and relax. Get out of this bra, these clothes.

When she got out of the shower smelling fresh and feeling warm, she decided to order Italian for dinner from the local place near her and have a quiet night in, she couldn’t be bothered to cook. 

The group had invited her out tonight but she was so tired she couldn’t be bothered. Anyway, Harry was going and she wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Things had been different ever since New Year’s. She felt different around him, and she didn’t know what that would mean for their friendship. She valued it so much and was worried she’d ruined it. She didn’t know what to do.

She called up the Italian place for dinner while scrolling through Netflix. She sighed, sadly. She felt so stupid right now.

She ordered enough food to fill up her rumbling stomach and pressed play on an all-time favourite comfort movie of hers. Notting Hill. God, she loved Hugh Grant. Harry used to make fun of how much she would watch this when they were roommates and honestly he wasn’t wrong. She watched it more than the average person, but was that such a crime?

She had gotten about a third of the way into the film when her phone buzzed on the table. She rarely got texts anymore, especially considering she only really talked to Daisy by text. She just called everyone else. She was expecting a drunk selfie from Daisy saying how sad she was sad that Y/n wasn’t there. But it wasn’t her.

NO CALLER ID

Y/n why didn’t you come out tonight? I miss you.

She was confused about who it could be. It had to be one of her mates. But seriously she had all their numbers. So who was this?

who is this?

The text was read instantly. Then three dots. Y/n’s heart weirdly began to race.

NO CALLER ID

It’s H. 

Obviously.

Who else are you texting at this hour, missy???

She giggled. He must be drunk, he was always like this when he was drunk. Even though she had been avoiding him; he was like a breath of fresh air. She had missed him. She now realised in the two years he had been away from her she had missed him, too much to let him go.

u drunk haz?

bc u sound drunk.

The text was again read instantly.

NO CALLER ID

I’m not drunk! How dare you!1!!!1

i don’t believe you harold.

NO CALLER ID

:((((((

Y/nnnnnnnnnn

why you sad?

NO CALLER ID

I want you.

what does that mean H?

Read. Then suddenly the replies stopped. Y/n felt stupid all over again but after ten minutes of checking, she put her phone down and tried to focus on the film. She was kind of worried though, was he okay? 

Thoughts of him disappeared as the food arrived. 

She ate slowly and sluggishly while Notting Hill continued to play. It was now up to the bit where naked photos of her had just been realised and she came rushing to Hugh Grant’s aid. She liked this part, it was so intimate and romantic. 

Her tiredness got the best of her though, her full belly and the warmth that her fireplace gave her sent her right off to dreamland. Notting Hill continued to play while she curled up under her old knitted blanket. Soft snores escaped her mouth as the fire crackled.

When she woke up it was probably around two am. She was startled and in the dark, Notting Hill was over, the fire had turned to coals, and the rain had turned to thunder. There was a banging at the door. She thought in her fuzzy mind it might be Daisy or even Miss Jones from next door who was an old lady that always thought Y/n was being loud. She sighed walking over to the door and opening it. Rubbing her eyes. Preparing for either a drunk best mate or an angry old woman.

It was neither of the people she expected. Sleep was still with her, eyes squinted and sore, and her voice was gravelly and quiet when she spoke. 

“Harry?”

He was smirking, of course, dimples and all. Eyes all hooded and sultry, he looked edible like this.

His hair was wet but his clothes were dry except for the tops of his shoulders. He was in a 70s ensemble. This orangey red shaded v-neck jumper was on his chest, some dark wash vintage flares on his legs, and some old white boots. His eyes were red and he was obviously under the influence. Of what? Well, she’d soon find out.

“Can I come in?” He asked. She nodded stepping out of the way. Even though things were different the love for him was still there, she’d have let him in her door no matter what, and she would always be at his beck and call. That’s what scared her. 

“Cute shorts.” He said touching her hip, Y/n blushed up at him. 

They were these old bunny print ones that were too small but she refused to throw them out. She was wearing the bunny slippers that matched too and some shirt that she actually thinks was Harry’s back from when they were roommates. It was navy and so worn it had faded.

He stepped inside. She could smell the potent scent of weed and his cologne. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve ‘ad some spliffs tonight. But I wanted to see you regardless. This just sorta’ happened, y’know how James and I get when we are together.”

Y/n did know. The number of times she’d have to help him get to bed way back when.

“Haz darling, I’m going to go home,” Y/n said softly. He was sat on the couch, high as a kite. 

“What? Why?” He sat up now. Hand reaching hers. 

She smiled. “Not really in the mood tonight, Haz. That’s okay though. Stay, have fun with James. Be safe, yeah?”

He stood up, all wobbly. She helped him steady himself. “Don’t go. Please?”

He got really affectionate and soft when he was high. She’d noticed that. Drunk Harry was all loud laughs and chaos. This scintillating star. High Harry was mellow and touchy. Like a teddy bear.

“‘M tired though, H.”

He grabbed his coat from the couch. “Then I’ll come too.”

She sighed pouting softly. “Not trying to ruin your fun, I know how you and James are.”

“You aren’t. Promise. Take me home please.” He said grabbing her hand. She smiled up at him. 

“Okay.”

“I love you, you know.” He said resting his head on her hair. “Y’one of m’best friends.”

“I love you too, Harry. Always.”

“Okay.” She said softly and he followed her to the couch, which was still warm from her sleeping body.

He put a hand on her thigh it was warm and soft to his touch, and he stroked it to calm them both. There was a nervous energy in the room, which was rare for them. It had always been calm and tranquil when they were together.

“Sorry for waking y’up.” He said, genuinely seeming apologetic.

“It’s alright, Haz. What’s up?” She had a feeling about what he’d say next.

He sighed. “I know we said we’d forget it, but I can’t. I really can’t.”

“It was supposed to be no strings attached…” Y/n said quietly. Because she thought that’s what he wanted.

He looked over. “I know. That’s why I came here.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked down at his hands nervously. “I wanted to talk to you about the whole one-night-only thing.”

“Go on….” She turned her body to face him, eyes glued to his handsome face.

“I want to be with you like that again. I want more than just that night Y/n. It's driving me mad. I want you so fucking bad.” He said waiting for a response, nervous.

She could tell he was high, but she could also tell he was telling the truth. He didn’t tend to lie when he was high. “Like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah sure….only if you want to though. I got the impression that you regretted the other night, but if there’s even the slightest chance you might want this. I need to know. If you don’t, well, at least I’ll know. It’s the not knowing that’s making me crazy, Love.”

She put her hand on top of his giving it a squeeze. “I don’t regret it, H. How could I regret you? I just- I don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you now.”

He laughed a short laugh leaning into her side. “Just be yourself Y/n.”

“Easier said than done.”

He just shook his head at her. 

“It’s a deal.”

Harry’s head snapped over, eyes wide and heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. “What?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “I want to. I really do, but you know we can’t do anything tonight, right?”

His smile quickly turned into a big pout. Hair falling over his eyes. “What? Why?”

“You are unbelievably high. Look at those pupils!” She jested hands resting on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. There was hardly any green left in them.

“They always get like that when I’m with you.” He leaned closer to show her them. The green had been swallowed by black, his long eyelashes fluttering. His eyelids had gone all swollen from smoking. 

She rolled her eyes at him pushing his head gently away. “Shut up. You really are terribly charming. It’s annoying Harold, you know that?”

“Why’s that?” He smiled hands rubbing her thighs. Her soft plump skin was soothing to play with. His hands were calloused but still soft against her.

“I feel like one of your fangirls. Seriously. Speaking of which, we better keep this a secret shouldn’t we?” She put her legs to rest on his lap. His hand stroked her shin gently, relaxing into the couch. He leaned back against the couch, feeling calm.

He cocked his head. “Why?”

“You’re a rockstar. I’m just some random from Holmes Chapel. I reckon your fans will go crazy.”

He frowned. “They know who you are already but just for our privacy, I think so. It’s hard being under the spotlight. I don’t want your privacy taken from you just because of me. People who I’m seeing or any girl really get a lot of hate, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She nodded, letting silence fill the space.

“Can I eat you out now?” He said abruptly. 

She laughed in shock her face turning bright red as she laughed loudly. “No.”

He pouted like a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I just wanna taste you.”

He knew how to get her all riled up. She hated it, he really was good at everything he did. Proving all previous fantasies to be correct.

“Harry, we can’t. It’d be taking advantage.” She replied, knowing she wanted him more than anything right now.

“Of who? Me? It doesn’t matter how sober, drunk, or high I am Y/n ’m still gonna’ want to eat yeh' out so bad.”

She laughed shyly getting up. She had never been so openly wanted, he made her feel sexy. It was a strange feeling because her whole life she had been told she was anything but. Especially because she'd gone this long being a virgin. “Let’s just sleep. Maybe when your sober, okay?”

He pouted again, grabbing her extended hand as she helped him find her room. His arms wrapped around her shoulders across her chest as he followed, feet heavy on the rug.

Her bedroom was chilly when they stepped inside. He clung to her for a moment his nose brushing against her neck, lips grazing her skin. “S’cold in here.”

“Yeah.” She replied, feeling goosebumps arise. She didn’t know if it was the cold or Harry who made her feel that way. 

He began to take off his clothes until he was just in boxers she was gonna offer him some clothes but he didn’t seem to care about being naked near her.

She stared at the art that was his body. She hadn’t had much chance to ogle him when they were together last. She noticed the new tattoos, itching to touch them, and ask about them but she refrained.

The tanned skin and rippling muscles, the whisps of hair on his chest, the snail trail on his navel. He was just fucking gorgeous.

“You're staring.” He said. She chose to ignore him, which only made him laugh at her.

She lifted the blankets for him. They were different sheets from last time. These were pink and Harry recognised them from when they were roommates. 

“In you get.”

He jumped in childishly and she joined him. 

Her window was slightly ajar so they could hear the rain bucketing down, it was loud but peaceful. He curled into her back. His hand slid onto her stomach underneath her shirt as he pressed her closer to him, soaking up her warmth.

“G’night, love.”

“Night Harry. Sweet dreams.” She replied.

He kissed her neck. “Trust me, they will be very sweet.” 

Harry was an early riser, he always had been. He loved the mornings. Even when they were roommates and he’d been out partying he’d still get up earlier than Y/n. She on the other hand hated mornings, she always got so grumpy and if he could he avoided waking her up at all costs. 

Even after his late night yesterday, he was still the first up of them both. It was around half past six, and the rain was still heavy and coming down. He sighed peacefully, Y/n was still curled up at his side soft breaths escaping her mouth. She looked so peaceful in his arms.

They’d barely moved all night, the last thing he remembered was her by his side tracing his tattoos with her fingers. Her leg was thrown over his hips and her arms were still clinging to his body. He could stay like this forever. He was kind of foggy after last night, he’d forgotten he’d come all the way over here, but it was a pleasant surprise to have her there next to him.

She moved quite a bit in her sleep, he’d always known that about her. She began to squirm a bit shifting her hips against his side, thigh rubbing over his boxers. “Mm.” She groaned, and he watched her to see if she was awake. But nothing. 

She kept wriggling against him, and against his own will, he felt his boxers grow tighter. He sighed, holding in a laugh at the thought of last night. It’s honestly the only thing that had been on his mind for days, which probably made him sound like a horny old bastard, but he’d never felt like that before except with Y/n. All she’d done was give him a blowjob and he’d had enough of those to know how it goes.

He’d even started a song about this feeling. It was in the works, but he had to laugh at himself. It was about the female orgasm. Or as he called it “the sweetness in life.” He really couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the idea once again. 

His tongue, her. How perfect would it be? Like art being made.

He felt her start to make more noise beside him, pulling him out of his filthy thoughts. 

“H?” She whispered groggily, voice hoarse. 

He looked down. “Hi, petal.”

She rumbled a groan, stretching her arms out her shirt riding up revealing her tummy. “What time is it?” He reminded her of a cat, all stretched out like that.

“I dunno, early though. Probably sixish.” He replied, hand rubbing her back. “How’d you sleep?”

“I can’t focus on what you just said when your dicks hard sticking into me,” She teased, “Can you start again?”

He laughed cheeks going a bit pink. “Sorry, I would’ve moved you but you are not the happiest in the mornings, I wanted to keep my head from being bitten off.”

She rolled her eyes ignoring that comment. “How long have you been awake?”

“A little while.” His eyes hadn’t moved off her face the entire time. 

“How’d you sleep?”

He pulled her closer, one hand on her lower back and the other on her thigh. She could really feel him now. It made this whole thing seem real. This was the first time they’d been like this when they were sober. Her confidence felt smaller and weaker. The tequila was what gave her the courage to get with him in the first place. 

“Perfectly.”

She just nodded trying not to focus on his achingly hard cock sticking into her. The feel of him already had her giddy. “Good. Can I make you a tea or coffee? You hungry?”

She was about to get up but he grabbed her. “‘M ravenous,”

She innocently started to list off what she had for food in her flat. “Well I have some toast, I can make pancakes, and I have cheerios—”

“You’re so cute, Y/n.”

She cocked her head. “Uh- Thanks?”

He kissed her hairline, “I haven’t forgotten our conversation from last night. Have you?”

She blushed, finally realising what he was insinuating. “No. How could I forget that?”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, moving her face close to his, and their noses brushed softly.

As he leaned forward she could feel his warm breath on her face. He pecked her lips softly at first pulling back to kiss her nose too, then one of her rosy cheeks. Before finally placing his lips on hers firmer this time. It was deep and slow, with no urgency in it. He wanted to take his time and enjoy waking up with such an opportunity in front of him. 

He wanted her like this every morning. 

Y/n knew she’d never had a boyfriend let alone a friends-with-benefits before this. The most she’d done is kiss a few dates or strangers in a bar. But for some reason, she felt this was rather intimate for two people who claimed to be just friends who have just sex.

What drew the line between friends who are fucking and people dating? Is the fact they slept together and cuddled up all night something more than friends do? Or is it all part of this whole deal they had, did that just come with it? She had no idea, and she wondered if Harry was like this with everyone he slept with casually. She had to admit sometimes she got sad when she saw how he made everyone feel special. It made her feel just like any other girl he’d been with. When he was far from anything she’d ever experienced and honestly she’d probably compare every other boy to him after this.

That’s what scared her. 

And then of course she thought that if she wasn’t so inexperienced maybe she’d be calmer about the whole casual thing. But Y/n didn’t do casual. She was all or nothing. But if Harry wanted casual she’d do it. She’d do more for him than she cared to admit.

The kiss grew fierier and that felt more like the first time they were together — it was all tongues and teeth. He began to roll on top of her, pressing his hard cock against her and her yearning for him grew even stronger. She honestly thought herself pathetic for how wet he made her, they’d done practically nothing and already her heart was beating fast, her chest heaving against his.

His hands slid up under her shirt massaging her tits gently, as he began to kiss her neck. The hickey he’d left last had faded now which gave him the motivation to do another and who was she to tell him no? Her hands were in his hair massaging him as she sighed contently. Letting out moans every few seconds from the pleasure his touch brought.

How did he already know her body so well? It was like he could read her mind. And yet every move he made seemed so effortless. 

“Take it off.” Y/n sighed gesturing to her shirt. Harry didn’t need to be told twice, he ripped it off and throwing somewhere neither cared to look as his mouth roamed along the peaks of her tits, nipples suddenly hard. Her back arched up to his hot, wet mouth.

His tongue swiped along them and Y/n whined needily, her hands now on his shoulders as her hips bucked up. He sucked just below one of them, leaving a mark Y/n knew she’d touch whenever she thought of him after this. His hands were on her waist fiddling with the waistband of her very small shorts. He kissed down her stomach and on her hip tattoo. 

“When’d ya’ get this lil’ number?” He asked, moving the shorts to reveal a small yet noticeable tattoo. It was a little moth kind of similar to the one on Harry but smaller. 

“I got it with Daisy on a whim one night. I actually used you as inspiration. I didn’t know what else to get. I’ve always loved your tattoos.”

His heart swelled and he kissed it. “It’s sexy.” She smiled, face all pink, eyes soft. 

“Can I touch you, Harry?”

He shook his head and she frowned confused. “Why not?”

“Because I want this to be about you.” He replied. 

She pouted at him reaching for his hand. 

“Don’t give me that, be good f’me and let me make y’feel good Petal.” He said tapping it away.

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

He said. “Atta girl.” 

She felt her stomach twist in want. “You can take those off too.”

So he did. He had an inkling she hadn’t any undies under there and his theory was proven correct. 

“Sorry I didn’t shave, I didn’t know this would happen.” He looked up at her, his fingertips gliding up her inner thigh. 

“Don’t be silly, Y/n.”

Harry constantly raised her standards every second. 

“Don’t boys get repulsed by hair?” She asked. 

He laughed staring right at her dripping hole, his eyes looked hungry, lips slightly parted. “Yeah exactly, boys. Not real men. I firmly believe men who care don’t actually like pussy. I love pussy, what’s a little hair anyway?”

“I guess m’ just nervous, H.” She replied, looking away. 

He stopped, hands freezing. “D’ya want me to stop?”

Her hands moved from her stomach to his cheeks, stubble grazing her hands. “No,” She said faster than she had wanted to, which actually made him smirk. “I just- What if I do it wrong?”

“How can you do anything wrong? You just have to let me take care of you. Relax, Love. It’s just me.”

“Just Harry,” She confirmed and he kissed her thigh. She felt the stubble graze her and felt her pussy throb deeply. She was yearning for him. 

“Tell me if y’want me to stop, okay?” 

She nodded. “I will.”

He lifted her legs up placing them on his muscular shoulders, pulling her close by her hips. Every single touch and movement of his was teasing and getting her so worked up she was about ready to beg him for it. His breath was making her squirm against his face when he finally decided to kiss her puffy clit which was swollen in arousal. She was taken back to New Year’s when she kissed the tip of his throbbing dick. All pink and slick.

She let out a heavy breath shutting her eyes. One of his hands found hers and she held it, stroking her thumb over his knuckles in encouragement because she was worried her voice would be too shaky. Without further hesitation, his warm tongue lapped up all the wetness dripping down her pretty pussy. 

She whimpered. Was it supposed to feel this good?

He started to suck on her clit, lapping it up over and over. The noise of what he was doing to her was pure filth. Her hand was in his hair tugging at it as she cried out. She tried to stop her hips from squirming but it felt so good. 

“Fuck, Harry.” She said letting out a shakey breath when his tongue started licking her wet hole. 

She gave his hair a particular rough tug and he grunted against her. The vibrations made her whine.

She felt his free hand move against her pussy fingertips tracing up his spit and her slick. Before he began to tease her some more. The tip of his middle finger slid in ever so slightly, her hips leaning into the touch before he pulled away again. He was still harshly sucking her clit, and Y/n couldn’t help but whimper. 

“Harry, please.”

He looked up at her from his position. His eyes met hers as he greedily lapped her up. His finger went in slightly further reaching halfway before he pulled away again. She threw her head back in defeat. He wanted her to beg. 

“Please, H. I want you so bad.” She said, shutting her eyes. 

She felt him pull back for a brief second. “These kinds of things can’t be rushed, Babe.”

She sighed, he was taking his time with her, enjoying every sound that came from her swollen lips. The noise of her slick, dripping pussy against his mouth. The sweet tangy taste of her. Those hands of hers that ran through his hair and tugged when he did something particularly good. He was going to make sure she was satisfied.

He went straight back to it. This time his finger went all the way, knuckle deep, as he grazed that spot that made her scream. He heard her whisper, “Fucking hell.”

He pulled his finger out again. His tongue and lips still working hard against her puffy sensitive clit. She couldn’t contain her moans. They turned on Harry so much that every few seconds he found himself humping against the bed for some relief. 

Her hips bucked up, her thighs squeezing his head unintentionally. He made her so riled up she could barely control her body. Her legs were already shaking from the pleasure. 

When his finger slipped in the next time it stayed. She sighed contently as he began to thrust against her walls that tightened around him every few seconds. His rhythm wasn’t fast or sloppy it was slow but hard. A steady rhythm. They curled inside her and each time he hit that spongey spot and sucked her clit just right her eyes rolled back in her head. 

“Harry,” She begin to chant like a mantra over and over which only egged him on more and more.

She could feel her stomach begin to tighten, and her hands came up to play with her tits. Kneading them and pinching her nipples. The wave of her orgasm snuck up on her, her back arching and her hands finding Harry’s free hand on her thigh to squeeze in a warning.

“Fuck! I’m cumming!” She cried out. 

Harry felt her clench like a vice on his fingers as she got wetter and wetter. He felt it drip down his wrist as she whimpered. Her thighs clenched against his wrist as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him. His tongue and finger didn’t stop though. He looked up through hooded eyes at her gorgeous face. 

Her hair was fanned out above her head, tossed back, mouth agape in an o shape, and her cheeks were all flushed and pink. Her eyes rolled back as she screamed out. “Ah! Fuck!”

When she started to come down from the peak of her orgasm Harry continued helping her ride it out. She thought he would stop, she was so whimpery and sensitive.

“Got another one in ya’?” He asked, looking up. 

“Maybe.”

That was enough for him to keep going. He slipped another finger inside her, he started speeding up now. 

“Look at you, so good f’me.” He said, his voice all gravelly.

She whimpered pathetically, squirming. Already feeling a building in her stomach.

“All spread out, ruined, taking me like a good girl. Such a good girl.” Y/n clenched against his fingers at that comment.

“Jesus, Harry. You’ll be, ah, the death of me.” She replied. 

He just laughed at her. Starting to speed up his thrusts.

Y/n let her eyes flutter shut as she felt her second orgasm start to wash over her and she sighed. This time it felt even more intense than the first, her toes curled and her hands gripped the sheets. She felt a wild deep sensation inside her. “Oh, god. ‘M cumming.”

It washed through her entire body, pure pleasure overcoming her. When she opened her eyes she saw these black spots, her hearing stopped for a second and she let out a loud mewling carnal whimper. Harry was mesmerised by the sight in front of him. If he could he would do this all day.

When her body went limp he slowly pulled his fingers out and she suddenly felt so empty. 

“You okay?” He asked softly.

She opened her eyes, naked chest heaving. “Your…tongue…fuck.”

He giggled. 

“Kiss me, please.”

He placed a peck on her lips, brushing some hair from her face. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, fingers brushing his jaw. 

“No, thank you, Y/n. Been dyin’ to do that for weeks.”

thanks for reading! follow to see a part three! xx if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xx feel free to request me too!

[groenendaelfic]

Hey,

haven't seen you around a lot lately. Just writing to check in. how is it going? Wish you a nice evening

it is going, thank you for asking!

Life has been very busy these past few months but is moving in a hopefully good and definitely exciting direction.

In this particular order (if memory serves correctly) I've:

decided to move halfway across the continent

marked the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life

had other people mark the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life with all that entails

quit my job (I'd been planning that for a while)

had my boss and hr offer to let me go instead and half my notice period to two months (aka 'give' me more money and facilitate my move, yay pity)

started looking for a place to live and organizing my move

found a new job in a slightly different corner of halfway across the continent (I start July 1st)

got my request for citizenship approved (epic timing guys)

found a place to live in an awesome area (I will be able to do all my errands on foot and my new job is only a short bike ride away)

told everyone I was leaving for sure

signed the paperwork to have my uncle in law take over the place here

had my cousin offer to move my stuff with his remodeled fire engine in exchange for gas and (bridge) tolls

did all the paperwork in the universe ever

started saying my goodbyes for now (I still have lots of family and friends etc here so I'll be back a lot)

had my cousin tell me he'd make a bro trip out of the move because his friends really wanted to see a basic bridge, and room and board plus no girls was all the compensation they needed for getting to carry my boxes

said thanks but no thanks to citizenship (sorry Wille, you'll always be my King)

was asked if I minded the move taking a bit longer because the guys wanted to stop for totally unplanned soccer (a not insignificant part of their motivation if not a deciding factor I dare say)

did more move and job leaving planning and paperwork

welcomed, fed and watered a bunch of guys really into soccer bridges and very disappointed I didn't have more boxes they could compete carrying

prepared a big lunch basket and said goodbye to said guys and my boxes

sat down to write this list wondering where I should celebrate midsummer (aka do I want to travel back and forth to get everything ready or stay until it's time to hand in my work laptop etc)

Phew, yes. Also a million other things which won't come to mind right now. Thank you to everyone who left me such kind messages btw. I appreciate them so much but am still learning to respond to kindness and compliments without awkwardness. They nevertheless give me life.

In more interesting news to everyone here I've also done a lot of writing.

Mostly on One Wild Summer, which has already grown into a monster, but I've been writing the exciting parts later on and still guesstimate a 15k or so stretch which needs bridging to get to all the fun stuff I've already written.

but also on The Prince and the Barista and As Long as We Have Each Other. I only need to make it coherent and once again fill the gap to where I stopped posting.

plus *cue exasperated sighs* I'm also 9k+ into a new fic! The (once more) absolutely most self-indulgent thing I've ever written in this fandom and something I swore I never would turn into a proper fic. Expect the prologue for that (which was meant to be 500 words and not 5k) soonish.

Everything else including regular updates not before mid to late July though I think. Because moving and starting a new job and life means busy times and while I can write scribble down connected sentences with half a mind, I can't beta read and edit with half a mind.

tl;dr: I am still writing yr fic and haven't abandoned my fics, but am also busy moving. goodbye cloudberries and lingonberries, hello wineberries vineyards and appleberries apple orchards.

[juniperwoodwell]

Dedication

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 |

Kylo Ren x F! Reader

Word count:5k

Warning(s): I'm not sure rn, proceed with caution I guess.

Summary:As a Captain in the First Order, Y/N has never been one to bring attention to herself unless it was commanding her squadron. What happens when a personal hobby make's her prey to one of the most feared men in the universe?

A/N 1: I'm so sorry this took so long to get out! I had a hard time writing these few week. This is only half edited because an hour ago my mom went to the hospital, but I wanted to get this out for you guys. I will edit it in the future! ❤️

A/n 2: Btw, I decided to try something else for splitting up the scenes , any words in bold red letters is the beginning of a new scene. Lmk if you like that better than the dots.

"You're right on time."

 The deep tone of his distorted voice sent shivers down her spine. She stared at the back of the mountainous man in front of her; swallowing her nervousness, she cleared her throat and stood beside him.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

Kylo turned his head slightly to analyze her momentarily, then looked back at his ship.          

"Why did you disobey direct orders?"

"I-I don't understand-"

"You snuck onto my ship while I was away and after hours."

Y/n bit her lip and sighed;

Well, might as well get this over with.

 "I know the risks, Sir, But the information I gathered was vital to my success. I don't want to disappoint you." Her last sentence was mumbled, admitting that hurt her pride.

Kylo hummed and nodded. "Well, since you disobeyed my orders, there will be a punishment." His tone darkened.

"I understand..." This was it; my desire to always succeed would be the end of me.

 "You will do a pre-test. No data pad, no notes."

 "What?" Her head snapped in his direction; she expected to be dead already.

"You heard me. Let's go."

 The inside of the Silencer was cramped, to begin with, but now it was almost suffocating.      

Kylo sat in the Pilots seat; his presence alone seemed to fill the tight space with a tense atmosphere. Y/n stood beside him so she could access the flight computer.

"I-Is this necessary, sir?"

 Kylo had his hands folded in his lap and nodded. "I need to see you doing it. It'd be useless if I were down there."

Y/n nodded, rolling up her sleeves. "I do suppose so, Sir."

"You may start."

Kylo's POV: (-Example- : Y/n's thoughts)

"You may start."

He watched as she crouched down and turned on the flight computer; no better option other than the floor, he supposed.

He didn't care if she got it right or wrong. He was too caught up in his thoughts;

She was certainly strange. She's always so anxious around me but still manages to back-talk me.

He closed his eyes as he began listening to her rushing mind. It brought some sense of calmness to his constantly overwhelmed one.

- Shit, If he knows about last night, what else does he know? Does he know about my mother? -

He opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at her profile. Her eyebrows were knitted as she worked on the computer.

Her mother? Does she mean her biological or stepmother?

"Your father isn't your biological father isn't that correct?" He asked, watching as she turned to him.

Shock etched into her attractive features. "How'd-"

"I did a background check on you when you requested this assignment."

"Oh, well...yeah. My mother divorced him and left us both. My bio father is unknown."

Kylo hummed. "Does that mean your father's wife is your stepmother?"

Y/n nodded, Turning back to the computer. "She's more of a mother to me than my real one."

"Oh? And why's that?" He smirked as he watched her physically tense up.

-Oh, Fuck.-

 "I...Well. My biological mother was hardly there for me growing up, and after she married Raife, my father. She only became more distant. Then divorced my father to join the new republic, and I haven't seen her since." She sighed. "My stepmother took me in as her own; she was super protective of me as a child and was against me joining the first order."

- Why am I spilling my secrets to him!?-

Kylo chuckled at her thoughts, though it came out as a distorted crackle, catching her attention. "Your mother joined the new republic?"

Y/n sighed,

-Too much information, dumbass. Way to dig your own grave. Again.-

" Yeah...She's some big-shot counselor now, but like I said. But as I said, I haven't seen her since the divorce- Oh, wait- Actually, that's a lie. She did try to reconnect a few years ago, tried to convince me not to join the first order, but I told her to politely fuck off."

Kylo sensed anger in her tone as she fiddled with the computer. "I see."

Silence filled the space; Kylo shut his eyes and listened to Y/n's mind, He searched for more information about her mother, but her mind was so filled with overwhelmed thoughts that it made it difficult to navigate. Kylo had never experienced such an active mind; It fascinated him.

The silence and his investigation were interrupted when a bang echoed in the cockpit, followed by a hissed-out curse.

"Fuck!"

 He opened his eyes to see Y/n standing now, rubbing her head. Frustrated by something,

 How is it that every time I'm one way, she manages to be the complete opposite? Like now, I'm the most relaxed I've been in weeks, and she's completely stressed out and frustrated.

"Are you alright?"

He asked suddenly. Startling them both, It's a very known fact that Kylo Ren is not one to care for others,

 "Y-Yeah, Sorry, Sir. Low ceilings."

He stared at her momentarily, an idea forming in his mind.

Y/n's POV:

This whole situation is bull- Why is he asking so many questions? Why this freaking Pre-Test as a punishment? Does he really need to be here? Why is he asking about my mother?

-ERROR: INCORRECT-

The screen showed those words in bright red lettering; she groaned softly.

This is stupid.

She ran her hands over her face and stood up. Too frustrated to remember the low ceilings,

"Fuck!" She cursed when her head collided with the durasteel ceiling.

 "Are you alright?" His voice startled her, making her gasp and turn to him.

"Y-yeah, Sorry, Sir. Low ceilings..." She was shocked by his sudden concern, but what happened next made her want to scream as if she'd just seen a ghost.

 Kylo grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap; Her back faced him as she straddled his right thigh. Blush crept up her neck and face; she turned her head to look at him. Unsure of what to do.

"Does this help?" He asked,

"What?"

"Does this help? With how you were crouched, I could assume that was uncomfortable, making it difficult for you to focus." He spoke calmly as if what he'd just done hadn't almost caused her to have a heart attack.

 "O-Oh...Uh." She looked at the computer, the angle was better and would relieve stress from her ankles, but the warmth from Kylo's thigh made her believe crouching might be the safer option...

Y/n wasn't the most active woman in the world; she preferred to focus on her work over fulfilling any personal pleasures, Minus her Starship hobby. But this sudden contact with someone made her realize how touch-starved she was.

"Yes...It does help. Thank you, Sir." Kylo nodded, and she continued her work; in truth, being beside him earlier was nerve-wracking, but now sitting in his lap? Oh...It was worse. It was distracting and made it even more difficult to focus, especially when he'd move his foot, flexing his thigh. Or when he'd roll his shoulders, brushing his chest against her back, causing goosebumps on her exposed forearms. The proximity was becoming too much; she couldn't concentrate.

 Y/n sighed and shut off the flight computer, running a hand through her hair.

"What's the matter?"

Y/n looked over her shoulder, shrugging. Could she tell him that he was causing her to feel slightly turned on? No! Of course not! He's her boss...Technically. So she went with the half-truth, avoiding the embarrassing stuff.

"I've done this test sixteen times now; It's much more than I thought it would be. I can barely remember any of the small details; I'm practically guessing half of it." She sighed again, her shoulders slumped as she spoke, "I give up; I'm sorry, Sir." She began to stand up, but Kylo wrapped his arms tightly around her front and pulled her flush against him. They were so close she could hear his breathing, undistorted. It was calm.

 "You aren't allowed to give up, Capitan. You're here to prove that you are exactly as everyone says you are. You're constantly being praised for your piloting and engineering skills. You're apparently so good at what you do that the Supreme Leader permitted you to train a squadron of pilots from childhood, these children are orphans, and you're training them to be loyal to the first order by acting like a mother. Which is proving to work better than Hux's brainwashing method. It infuriates him; it's...very amusing for me."

He paused, his grip on her loosened slightly. Y/n was shivering; she wasn't cold, though...How could she be? Kylo radiated heat like a fire. It was from a combination of things, Fear, curiosity, surprise, and arousal. To name a few. He must have noticed this, she assumed, since his grip tightened and pulled her impossibly closer. "One little ship shouldn't be all that difficult for you." She sighed, nodding her head.

"I know.."

"Then why is it?"

She shrugged. "It's stressful; what you've asked me to do is...it's foreign to me. And you...Sir," She bit her lip to stop herself from digging herself a deeper grave. But he was persistent.

"Go on?"

 She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I-...I am afraid of you. Sir."

 "As you should be. But you aren't right now, are you?"

 She shook her head, "No, Sir."

 "Then what are you afraid of?"

"Honestly? Even though I am afraid of you most days, I have a lot of respect for you, and now that I have this assignment, I'm afraid of disappointing you and not meeting your expectations."

Kylo nodded, "I wouldn't have approved your assignment if I wasn't confident in your abilities. Unless...They're all lies, and you've somehow managed to fool everyone and are secretly a rebel spy?"

Y/n gasped, turning her head to gaze into the dark visor of his helmet. "I am NOT like my mother. I would never betray the First Order."

Kylo chuckled, "Good to know where your loyalties lie." Y/n could feel the vibrations of his distorted chuckle; she realized now that he was teasing her,

"Is this amusing to you?" She asked, turning her head to look out the windshield, crossing her arms over her chest, accentuation her breasts.

 Kylo inhaled sharply, covering it up by teasing her once again. "Yes, very much so. You're something else, Captain Seinar"

She huffed and absentmindedly rested her head against his shoulder. "I could say the same for you?"

"Oh? How so?"

"Well...for one. You haven't killed me yet like I've expected you to...Multiple times-" "I have no reason to." "But I've sassed you, talked back to you, disobeyed your orders. I was late, and you destroyed a hangar terminal. You have literally killed for less."

It was his turn to shrug. "...I didn't destroy the terminal because you were late. I apologize if I gave you that impression. Hux had informed me that they lost the location of the scavenger girl. You just happened to show up, and I needed an excuse." Y/n put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Is this amusing for you?" His tone sounded playful as he mirrored her words from moments before.

She shook her head, but her expression betrayed her, unable to contain her smile.

 He chuckled. "To be honest, you are a valuable asset to the First Order. You've managed to make yourself indispensable. It'd be a waste to kill you."

"O-oh..."

"So, what else then?"

"Well...For instance," She lifted her hands to accentuate her point. "It's very out of character for you, sir."

 "Maybe for you and everyone else, it is."

 "What? Are you saying you're actually kind and considerate?"

 Kylo scoffed. "Not usually. But somehow, you've managed to bring out that side of me-" As he was about to finish his sentence, Y/n's watch beeped, indicating that the hour had finished. "You did well; I'll give you an extra hour tomorrow." Kylo let go and helped her stand. He lifted his hand above her head before she could bump against it again. "Thank you, sir."

When she returned to the lounge, the only one there was Miya; when she saw Y/n, she stood up and rushed over to her.

"Where the hell have you been?" She scolded.

 "Miya-"

"You missed lunch and dinner, and you're back late! We were worried Sick! "

"A lot happened. Can I explain in the morning? I'm exhausted."

 Miya signed, "Yeah, fine. But I want a full explanation."

"Yes, Ma'am," Y/n Yawned and trudged back to her room. She signed, "So many questions; why does he make everything so difficult." slowly, she peeled off her work clothes as her stomach grumbled. "Shit- I'm starving." She changed into something comfortable and then went out to the lounge.

 As she was scrounging around for a snack, a heavy knock echoed through the room; y/n gasped at the sound and then quickly opened the door to find a trooper standing there holding a black cafeteria plate with a matching lid.

"Captain Seinar?"

"Yes?"

"This is for you."

"Uh? Are you sure? Because I canceled my meal delivery."

 "Yes, Ma'am. But I was ordered to bring it to you."

"By who?"

"Kylo Ren, Ma'am,"

Y/n scoffed. Really?  "ah, alright. Thank you." She took the food back to her room and sat it on her desk. She crossed her arms and stored at it.

"Why in the world would he have someone bring me food? Is he sorry he made me skip dinner? This man, I swear. one minute he wants to slice me In half, and the next he's acting as though he's my friend or something" She shrugged and sat down at the desk. When she opened it, there was a note written on real paper; this surprised her because It was rare to see actual paper since everything has become mostly digital. It read,

You did well tonight. Meet me in the hangar right after dinner tomorrow. You'll do your two hours then. Enjoy this; You deserve it.

Y/n stared at the note in awe, "This man is not who people say he is. Goodness." Cautiously she began to eat the meal.

The next morning went suspiciously well. Y/n woke up before her alarm, made it to breakfast, and taught classes. It wasn't until after lunch that things started to go downhill. She had gone to her office to do paperwork; the office was the equivalent of a large closet.

 A knock on her office door startled her from the report she had been writing.

 "Come in."

The door slid open to reveal Kylo Ren. She stood up quickly, "O-Oh, Hello, Sir. How can I help you?"

"I need your help with a ship."

"Your silencer?"

 He shook his head slightly. "My command shuttle. Come, I'll explain more on the way."

She nodded and followed him out of the room. He explained what was wrong with the ship, and he took her to the hangar.

 Y/n placed her hands on her hips as she stared at the large ship.

"Huh..."

"What is it?"

"Oh- Uh. Sorry. I just assumed it'd be in worse shape. You have a reputation for destroying things when stuff is inconvenient to you."

"I chose to find you first."

"Ah."

Kesta came down from the ship when she saw Y/n; her eyes lit up.

"Oh, Good. You're here!"

 Y/n offered her a soft smile. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Of course, Though. We've practically torn the cockpit apart trying to figure out what's wrong with the damn thing. So watch your step."

"Thank you. I will." 

 Kesta was not kidding. There were wires hanging down from the ceiling. The control cover was taken off the dock and sat to the side. Wires were littered all over the floor as well. "Goodness..." She trudged her way through the mess and went over to the dock where the flight computer resided.

Y/n wasn't unfamiliar with the Upsilon class command shuttle. It had just been released the year she joined the first order, and when she did her engineer training, one of her tests was to program it. Her programming came in second to a punk who decided he'd steal her idea, which in turn made it look like she stole his.

 So in truth, this was her creation, but no one knew. She nodded to herself, then exited the ship,

"Well?" Kesta asked, walking up to Y/n.

"I think It's the wing retraction gear. When it starts up, does it make a high-pitched screeching?"

Kesta nodded.

"Then...Yeah, somethings wrong with the wing retraction."

"Would you mind taking a look at it?" The older woman asked; y/n internally groaned. This could take hours.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll need some tools, though."

Two hours of screwing and unscrewing bolts, rewiring the wing retractor, and then having to do it again because she forgot that it needed to be wired to a different input. Kylo had left as soon as she got her tools, and Kesta left after that.

Tiredly y/n sat at the bottom of the ramp on the ship; she wiped her forehead as she sighed. A shadow eclipsed her, and she looked up to find Kylo looming over her. Quickly she stood up, almost stumbling forward into him. Catching her balance, she spoke,

 "I-I wasn't slacking, Sir."

 The new familiar crackle sounded softly between the two. "No. I didn't think you were."

 "Ah. Well- Is there anything I can help you with?"

He shook his head slightly. "Is it fixed?"

 Y/n looked over her shoulder and nodded. "Yes, Sir."

 "Good. You may go."

She looked at him confused but then shook her head. "Yes, Sir."

Before she could walk passed him, he grabbed her arm, Wo- Deja Vu. "Do not worry about Hux's order. Continue the way you have been."

 She looked into the dark visor with an uncertain expression. "Are you saying that just because it would only piss him off more?"

 "Yes. But also because I meant what I said. It works." She looked away and nodded; before He let go of her arm,

He said, "Go to the infirmary."

 "For what?" She asked; he tilted his down, and she followed his gaze. Her dark grey shirt was stained a deep red on her side. "Oh- Wow. I didn't even feel that."

"Obviously."

She glared at him. "Thank you for noticing. I'll go now." He nodded and let her go.

"Are you kidding me?" A short, blonde-haired woman in a white doctor's coat walked up to Y/n as she entered the infirmary. "I swear, You're here every week, Y/n. What'd you do this time?"

"Hi, Sara...I was fixing Kylo Ren's command shuttle and must have cut myself. Not sure how it happened."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Must have is an understatement." She said as she slightly lifted up the hem of Y/n's shirt. "Come on. I'll fix you up."

"Thank you-"

"You'll be paying me."

Y/n laughed softly and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, don't worry."

Sara lead Y/n to a bed and closed the curtain. "Are you doing alright?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I mean, You're the center of everyone's gossip recently."

"Because of my new assignment?" Sara nodded as she disinfected the small but deep gash in Y/n's side; Y/n gritted her teeth, "Y-yeah. It's...complicated. At least I'm not dead yet." She joked, earning a glare from Sara. "Sorry- It's nothing though. Just lots and lots of studying." The doctor hummed as she began to stitch up the wound, causing Y/n to grasp the firm mattress.

"...You must not know then."

"K-know what?"

 "There's a rumor growing around that you're screwing him. Especially since last night."

 "...last night?"

"Yeah, One of the engineers told me he saw the two of you inside his ship." Y/n groaned. "Is it true?"

"No, of course, it's not Sara. He found out I snuck onto his ship while he was gone and made me do a pre-test as punishment. He had to be there to observe my progress."

"But did you need to be sitting in his lap?"

"How much did this engineer see!?" Y/n exclaimed, wailing her arms around; Sara glared at her. "Sorry.."

"He saw enough to spread some nasty rumors." Y/n sighed and began to explain everything to Sara from the beginning, and by the time she was done, Sara had finished stitching and bandaging her side.

"Are you sure you can handle this?"

"I...I'm not sure. Tomorrow is test day, and I don't think I'm going to succeed; I'm too far in to back out now. This might be the last time we see each other."

 "I want to say don't be so dramatic, Y/n...But who knows what he'll do to you if you fail."

 Y/n scratched her head. "Yeah... I know."

"How are your nightmares?"

 "Oh-...Good." Sara knew she was lying but didn't persist. They knew each other well enough.

"Okay, You're all set." The women stood and exited the area; a few of the nurses looked at Y/n harshly. She avoided their gazes, and Sara walked her to the door. "Just be careful. Rumors like these...They grow legs."

"I know. Thank you. I'll send you the money tonight."

It seemed as though everyone's eyes were now on her as she made her way through the long tiring halls. Checking the time, she decided she could change out of her stained shirt and then go teach her flight lesson.

Walking into the lounge, she bumped into Callisto,

"Hey! Where have you been?"

"I'll tell you later, Cal. I gotta change and go to my next class."

 "Wait- No. Hang on. Is that blood?"

"yeah, It's nothing. I'll be fine."

"Did he do that to you?"

"Who?"

 "Kylo Ren."

"What? No. I cut myself while fixing a ship."

Callisto sighed. "I swear-"

"Cal. He didn't do anything. Now I have to go."

"Fine. But you're coming to dinner, right?"

She didn't give him an answer as she went to her room.

"Captain!" Dante's voice alerted the woman as she wrote down a report on her data pad.

"Yes, Dante?"

 "General Hux wants to see you. He said for you to go to his office in the command center."

"Now?" Dante nodded. "Okay."

Quickly she gathered her small group and told them they could go back to their dorms and that the training was canceled.

 Nervous didn't even begin to cover what she was feeling the moment she stepped through the command center's doors.

Cautiously she knocked on Hux's door.

"Come in."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into his office.

 "You asked for me, Sir?"

"Yes. Take a seat." She nodded and sat down in a chair across from his desk. "Is your assignment going well?" He asked as he linked his hands together on his desk and leaned forward.

"Yes, Sir." She kept her expressions blank.

"I was informed that you snuck onto the Silencer after hours. Is this true?"

 Shit. She nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Why?"

"Because I needed more information."

 "I was also told that you stole a copy of the ship's programming. Is this true?"

 "Y-Yes...Sir."

Hux hummed and sat back in his seat. "I respect you and your reputation Captain. But this is something I can not allow to pass. You will be completely suspended for five weeks, Along with your personal project."

 "Which one, Sir?"

"Your squadron." he paused as he glared harshly, making her want to crawl away and hide. "If you choose to do such things again, I will have you fired and your squadron terminated."

 "But you can't-"

"You're dismissed." biting her tongue, she stood and left.  

                                                                         When she exited the control center,  she got lost in her thoughts.

How could he have known? Did Kylo tell him? Maybe Cal's right. He is just toying with me.

She was stopped in her tracks by a firm hand grasping her shoulder; she turned to see one of the Knights of Ren. Cardo, she believed.

"Captain Seinar."

 "Y-yes, sir?" She turned to face him as he let her go.

"Kylo Ren has ordered me to find you and bring you to him."

 "O-Oh. Alright."

 Anger slowly started to boil in her bones as they made their way to where every Kylo was.   

The room they arrived in seemed like a recreation room. She noticed how the other five knights were there and turned to her as she entered. Cardo continued to walk through the room to another in the back; Y/n kept her head down as she followed him.

Kylo Ren stood in Infront of a large Transparasteel window that looked out into the vast expanse of space.

"Here she is."

 Kylo nodded and waved him off. Cardo left the room, closing the door behind him.

 Y/n stared daggers into the back of his helmet, her fists clenched tight by her side.

 "Is something the matter?" His voice bounced off the walls.

"All that shit you told me yesterday was just a fucking lie. Wasn't it? You've been trying to ruin my life from the moment I requested to look at your damned ship."

"I do not know what you mean." He turned around to face her.

"Bullshit! You have changed my schedule twice already, stressed me out beyond compare, and told Hux that I took a copy of the ship's programming plus that I snuck on board after hours!" Her strides were quick as she made her way over to him, and her chest was heaving. She stared up at him, face red with anger.

 "I did no such thing."

 "Liar! He's suspended me for over a month and my squadron as well. He told me if I slip up again, he'll fire me and that he'd terminate my squadron. You can't fucking handle someone being better than you at something, can you!? You're getting exactly what you wanted!" She yelled colorfully.

 Kylo took a step in, their chests brushing against each other. His voice was low as he spoke,

"Watch it."

 She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "what're you gonna do? Kill me? Please, that'd be a mercy."

He chuckled darkly. "That mouth of yours...It could get you in some serious trouble." He grabbed her arm and slammed her against the nearest wall, caging her in. Her anger was washed away in an instant, and fear now occupied her mind.

"Come now, where's all that fire?" She took in a shaky breath, "What's wrong? Are you scared I may actually kill you?" She looked away, but he grabbed her chin, holding her in place. "I meant every word I said to you. I would never jeopardize your position; I know how hard you've worked for it."

 "But-"

"I did not tell Hux what you did. That was between us, and It does not involve him." He sighed as he noticed the fearful look in her eyes. He let go of her chin; she seemed to relax some, but her mind continued to rush. "He has no proper authority to fire you or terminate your squadron, and if he tries, I will intervene."

"Why?" Her voice was soft and quiet.

"Because, as I've said, you're a valuable asset to the First Order. It'd be foolish to do away with you."

She nodded, biting her lip. "I'm sorry for practically screaming at you. It wasn't fair of me to assume you did those things without asking you."

"You're very good at that."

 "At what? Assuming things?"

 "No- Owning up to your mistakes."

 Y/n looked down at her feet, but Kylo lifted her chin with his thumb. "This brings up a problem, though."

 "...And that is? Sir."

 "We possibly have a snitch." He let her go and pulled away, turning to the window.

 Quickly she controlled her breathing and stood beside him.

"Did you tell anyone?"

 Y/n had to think for a moment; she gasped when a name flashed through her mind.

 Callisto.

 "I-...Yes. My best friend. Special Forces Pilot Timothy Callisto, but he goes by Cal." She turned her head to look at Kylo, and he did the same. Her eyes were filled with worry and desperation. "He wouldn't..."

"It's a possibility."

"But-...We've been friends since the academy. He wouldn't betray me."

 "You put too much faith into people."

She scoffed. "How would you know."

 "I just do."

 They stood there quietly for a while.

"What did you want me for, sir?"

He let her question linger as he turned away from the window and took a seat at the table that sat to the side of the room. "Join me." He said, motioning to the seat in Infront of him. Sitting down, she fiddled with her hands, suddenly anxious.

"I would like for you to join my division."

"Like the knights?"

He shook his head. "No. Like as my second in command, as in...Being my wingman and Captain."

She looked at him in disbelief. "I-...sorry. What?" she tilted her head slightly. "Why?" she asked.

"Because someone with your skills deserves to work with people of your same standard."

"Are you saying that my friends in the special forces aren't of my standard" Her tone had an edge to it as she spoke.

 "That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then."

"The special forces are the best of the best when it comes to the first order. But you, you're something-" His words are interrupted by the door opening.

 "Apologies, Sir. But you're being summoned to the supremacy." One of the knights spoke. Kylo turned his head to the knight and then back to Y/n.

"Thank you, Ap'lek." The knight: Ap'lek. Nodded and closed the door.

 Kylo stood, offering his hand to her. "Think about my offer." His voice sounded soft behind the mask, but she thought she had just imagined it; sighing, she took his hand and stood.

"Thank you, Sir. Do you know if you'll be back in time?"

Kylo hummed, looking down at her hand that was still in his own. "I am...unsure. If I am not. I will have Ap'lek accompany you."

Y/n froze, and her hand subconsciously gripped his. She stared into the visor, anxiety etched in her features.

"Is something wrong?"

She gulped and shook her head. When she went to pull her hand away, he grabbed it tightly,

"Do not lie to me." His commanding tone made her look away,

 "...I'd prefer not to do it at all than have to do it without you." her confession surprised them both. "I-I mean the ship, of course; I...I'm just used to you now. It'd be awkward with anyone else." She explained.

 A static crackle echoed off the walls. He was laughing at her. She met where she assumed his eyes were and rolled her own, a smirk on her lips.

"You should go. Don't want to make the supreme leader angry."

 "How would you know it's the supreme leader?" He asked teasingly,

 "Why else would you go to the big man's ship?" Another crackle and a nod from Kylo.

"You are right, though. I should. I will try to be back before our scheduled time, but if I'm not. Don't worry too much. Ap'lek is a man of few words, and he's the...Nicest. I suppose, but he'd deny it. He's just polite." Y/n nodded,

"I understand. Thank you, Sir. Good luck." She offered him a smile, and he gently squeezed her hand before letting go and leaving the room.

Tag list:

@kylowritten

@capitanostella

[furinafocalor]

KazuScara

all of these fics are centered around the ship Kaedehara Kazuha/Scaramouche (Wanderer)

links will be attached to all of them and the names will be underlined.

the ships with a * beside them are my personal favs please go check all of these fics out when you have the time!

*How to Bag an Idol by lynnthewaffle

tfw your highschool ex (who youre TOTALLY over) becomes the most famous idol of all time and you're the #1 top-charted streamer or Love is forged in distance and yearning and music.

10/10 I loved the tension and the heartburn it gave me after I finished reading all four chapters! This fic is around 23k words so I reccomend reading it when you have a couple of hours to spare. I felt like this fic did really well with the whole highschool romance to ex lovers who still have feelings for each other. It's definitely worth reading.

Black Orchids by too_indecisive_to_choose_a_name

KazuScara Week - Day 7 - Flower Shop While making an odd bouquet delivery, Kazuha meets a certain person that makes his cheeks turn peony pink only for that same person to come into his shop a bit later where Kazuha can’t hide his face anymore…

10/10 I swear I was smiling the whole entire time while reading this fic. I still have no idea what Black Orchids mean but oh well. This fic is a one-shot and is only around 3.5k words so please go check it out!

The Maple Leaf Harbinger by too_indecisive_to_choose_a_name

KazuScara Week 2022 - Day 2 - Role Swap Kazuha, the newest of the Fatui Harbingers finds himself questioning who he really has loyalty to when a certain wanderer takes Inazuma by storm. Kazuha finds himself seeking out said wanderer, only to meet him aboard a boat to find out the two of them really aren’t that different.

8/10 Another amazing fic by this author! I really loved the role swap au for some reason! This one's also a one-shot and shouldn't take too long to read.

Kuni? by too_indecisive_to_choose_a_name

That fucking bitch.   Honestly, Scaramouche wasn’t at all surprised that Childe bailed out on him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be annoyed at the ginger. Come to think of it, when wasn’t he annoyed with Childe. He could already feel the wrinkles from frustration on his face starting to form as he read the texts on his phone. Childe 1:05 Hey so I kind of wanted to have a single room for myself so…I got one! Now we can both get our own separate rooms! Scaramouche 1:05 You fucking dumbass Childe 1:06 What the fuck is pissing you off now? Scaramouche 1:06 That means that I have to get a random roommate OR Scaramouche moves to college and his roommate is a forgotten childhood friend he’s all too familiar with, but hasn’t seen in years…

9/10 So maybe you should just go read all of this author's works. Listen, you don't understand what this fic has done to me. Just go read it... when you have a weeks worth of time to spare. It isn't complete btw.

my happiness is ours to share by lore_bee

"I"ve never really been one for romance. Although, if I ever do stumble upon the right person... who knows? My days as a wanderer might come to an end." "Paimon just had a great idea! Lumine and I are going back to Sumeru tomorrow. You should come with us Kazuha! Then you can definitely meet you future soulmate I just know it!" "Thank you for the intriguing offer Paimon." "Your welcome! So are you coming with us?" "...I'll think about it."

8/10 Another incomplete work. So far I really enjoy seeing Kazuha's journey with Lumine and Paimon. I think this fic will turn out really good when it's finished!

Cloud Cover by princesscas

Kazuha is the unofficial school matchmaker, and his best friend Scaramouche is the only person he can't seem to succeed in pairing off.

8/10 This fic is so so so cute. I just love it so much. It's a one-shot with around 5k words so please check it out!

It's Called Freefall by dilucae

As days turn to nights, little can quell the emptiness inside Wanderer's heart. Little, but not nothing. And seeing his lover again is certainly up there.

7/10 Short and sad. I did tear up a little. A memorable fic.

That's all I have for now! I'll probably continue updating this post if I find more fics worth mentioning! Follow my blog for updates. I also have posts dedicated to different ships. Check them out if you're interested! Here's a link to my XiaoVen and ChongQiu fic recs!

[19180901]

⤵ I think of her so much, it drives me crazy...

. . 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 .ᐟ

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

✣ . Lloyd x anti-hero!fem!reader.

Reader description:

➟ Y/n is an anti-hero and wanted woman that has a pretty long record of crimes. It’s not big crimes like murdering someone or stuff like that, small crimes that are still considered crimes and are obviously punishable. Nonetheless, she still does good things such as helping people that need assistance, giving back that one old woman her purse that got stolen, yeah. Such a girlboss fr

➟ CW: Relationship moves pretty fast (it's Ninjago, what do you expect? Slowburns?), fights, minor injuries.

F/n = Fake name

There's like 5k+ words idk

A/N: ( Sorry for all the fem readers in my posts! I'll try making more diverse readers in my future works. <3)

I'm not making a part two (this is already long enough). The ending is up to you :)

IMPORTANT A/N REGARDING THE STORY AT THE END PLS READ

- <3

8:37 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ87%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

KAI WHERE ARE YOU WE’RE GETTING COOKED ALIVE IN THE DUNGEON

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhat

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

wdym what

come help us or smth wtf

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwho tf r u

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

don’t tell me you still didn’t save my number you idiot

if we die im gonna tell master wu it’s your fault

You stared at your screen, incredibly confused as you tried to figure out who just texted you and called you by the name of the Master of Fire. But based on what they said, it is most likely one of the famous Ninjas. And that Ninja is probably dying and is gonna die thinking you’re the fire Ninja. You contemplated whether you should tell him you are, in fact, not his friend, saving him and whoever’s with him from whatever is happening to them.

Or you could pretend you were Kai.

One life, you thought with a mischievous smirk visibly displayed on your face. You were bored as fuck so you decided to go with the second option, that is possibly gonna lead to the death of the well-loved heroes of Ninjago. But who cares? Definitely not you. Causing the death of a ninja is gonna look great on your criminal record. Well, if you ever get caught. For some reason, the police was never able to catch you. Dumbasses.

You thought a bit about how Kai would answer this message.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ——————

08:39 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ86%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOHH yeah right haha sorry i’m just kinda feeling in a silly goofy mood rn

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ dw i’m coming

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

HURRY UP

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhere r u btw

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

what

are you dumb

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyes i am

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnow send me the location mf or i’m leaving you to die

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

i’m too important to die but ok

(insert location)

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤalrr i’ll be there in like 5 minutes

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRead at 8:41

ㅤ

You felt bad that he’d be waiting for no one to save him from his doom so with what energy was left in you, you got up and quickly slipped on your criminal outfit. Yes, you had an outfit for your crimes because you gotta look good while doing them. And yes, you were going to save the ninja’s asses even if you felt too lazy to do it. You vaguely brushed out some knots in your hair and went out, getting on your motorcycle. You checked the location again and headed straight for it. It wasn’t very far so you could arrive there pretty soon.

You stopped your bike as you took in the scenery. A huge temple with lots of intricate and symbolic designs all over, with unlit torches on the poles that was holding the roof thingy, whatever it’s called. You wasted no time and carefully entered the decaying place, trying not to move or break anything, scared that the place would crumble down on you or something. The Ninja said that they were in the dungeon. But where the fuck is the dungeon?

You looked around with a sketchy face and noticed stairs going down. Since there was no other place to go, there was no doubt they went down there. Again, you carefully went down, alert of your surroundings. You arrived in some sort of tunnel with lots of torches placed in holes in the wall. You went through the tunnel and, unsurprisingly, there were arrows stuck everywhere on the walls, massive holes on the ground, giant axes that were destroyed displayed on the floor. It was very evident that these were traps activated by someone, most likely the Ninjas.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of them helplessly dodging the arrows and other traps. Unlike them, you made sure not to trigger any more traps and safely got to what seemed like giant doors. Giant doors that were half open. You took a peek inside and, sure enough, on the ceiling, gripping the stone bricks with such force were the Green and Silver Ninja, also known as Lloyd and Nya, trying not to die from the rising lava that was about to fill the room. You tried your best to hold in your laugh as you watched them struggle. After taking your phone and quickly snapping a picture, you looked around for any ways to get them out of here. Then you caught sight of stone slabs on the walls that looked like they would fall any minute. You took out a grappling hook and shot at each of the stone slabs so they would fall on the lava and make some kind of platform for the Ninja to land on.

Lloyd and Nya looked at the door but they couldn’t see their friend. But they thought nothing of it, only thinking about their survival and jumped on the stone platforms created by their “friend”. They quickly reached the door and gasped upon seeing that it was, in fact, not Kai that saved them, but some random person that they did not recognize.

“Who are you??” Yelled Nya angrily. You literally just saved their lives. Why is she mad?

“Oh come on I just saved your asses, be grateful I didn’t leave you there to die, because I definitely could’ve. Now if you don’t want the lava to fill the entire temple and kill you then we better move. I’ll explain when we get out, follow me!” You ran in the tunnel towards the stairs as the two others followed you. They exchanged unsure glances but it was true that the temple was about to be destroyed. The lava was rising quickly, quicker than you thought. The three of you hurried out, and, thank the First Spinjitzu Master that you got out before the lava reached you. All of you jumped out and, as if on cue, the old building blew up, for some reason (probably some hidden explosives). You were all out of breath. The adrenaline rush made you run faster than usual. You made a mental note to never answer texts asking for help.

Lloyd regained his breath and looked at you. “Who are you? How did you know we were here? And where’s kai?” You glanced back at him and let out a slightly dramatized but exasperated sigh. How did he not notice that he texted the wrong number? Even your dumbass would’ve noticed.

“Well, sir Green Ninja, it appears that instead of texting your little ninja friend, you have texted some random number that just happened to be me. And I couldn’t just leave you to die, even if I could, so with great effort, I came here to save your butts. Anyway, a thank you would’ve been appreciated.” You remarked and put your hands on your hips.

Nya looked at Lloyd with an annoyed expression, and upon seeing the sour look on his partner’s face, he sheepishly giggled. Nya sighed and looked back at you. “Thank you for saving us. We owe you a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing,” you smiled at them. Lloyd looked at you with a perplexed look. Why did you look so familiar? He swears he’s seen you before somewhere. But where? And why?

“Well then, I better get going. I’ll see you around maybe! I hope not…” You greeted the Ninjas and muttered the last part under your breath. As much as you would’ve wanted to see them around, you didn’t want to be caught by the police and spend the rest of your days in prison.

“Yeah, bye!”

Then it clicked. Now he remembers where he’s seen you before. You’re wanted all around Ninjago and they were often tasked with finding and catching you where there have been sightings of you.

"Hey! You're that criminal that's wanted everywhere!" Yelled the Green Ninja at you. You slowly turned your head to look at him and grinned. Then you fully turned around and crossed your arms. “Heh. I thought you would’ve never noticed.” You chuckled. Lloyd and Nya went into a fighting stance and glared at you.

“Oh come on, why the mean face? I just saved you.” You sighed. “I don’t intend to fight you. I’m not completely evil y’know. I do good stuff too.” You rolled your eyes boredly and walked back to your motorcycle and jumped on it. Lloyd was about to follow when the woman beside him stopped him. He looked at her with a confused look and she shook her head. “I think she isn’t lying. If she was completely evil, she wouldn’t have saved us. And besides, not reporting her to the police is the least we could do in return.”

They both looked at you and saw you smiling innocently at them, before you turned on the engine, put on your helmet and left. The green dude sighed and looked at your distancing figure. He decided to trust Nya and let you go. He’ll catch you another day. Or will he?

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ㅤ

It’s been, what, 3 days? A week since you saved the Ninjas? You didn’t keep track of time, to be frank. You had nothing to do and life seemed like it was worth nothing. You were laying on your couch watching the new series that just came out, For a tomorrow without tears (i made that up, it's not real pls). Basically it was about a girl who’s life was pretty much shit and she cries everyday because of that. You thought it would be bad but it was actually interesting and now you’re hooked.

You lived in a secret underground basement that was well hidden. It was under Laughy’s Karaoke Club, and the entrance was behind said place. There was a small, unnoticeable button that could only be pressed by you, since it recognizes digital fingerprints. So if anyone else finds the button somehow, it would not work.You were pretty proud of it since you installed the system yourself.

You had nothing to do. How about stealing random kids’ candy? No, you already did that yesterday. Their cries felt so good to hear. I could start a chase with the police. Eh, you didn’t feel like running or doing anything physically demanding. Since when did life get so boring? You had so much to do before you rescued the Ninjas.

You decided to slip on the first outfit that you picked up from the floor and got out of your secret base after taking your time (for once) and tying your hair into something decent. You put on a mask that covers your whole face so you won’t be immediately recognized. Leaving, you made sure no one was around to discover your hidden hideout.

You decided to simply take a stroll around the city, looking for something to do. Some crimes maybe. Or help people. Whatever. It was broad daylight so you didn’t expect to see the Ninjas today. Hopefully they weren’t here. You walked past an alley and heard yells. You didn’t notice until you realized someone was screaming, and walked backwards to check in the alleway. There, cowering in fear, stood two teenage girls surrounded by some thugs that probably wanted their money or something, the usual basically.

You calmly walked into the alley and started to speak. “Damn, thugs stealing kids’ money in a secluded alleyway? Probably the most cliché thing I’ve encountered today.” The men looked at you and glared. “Get her!” Ordered what seemed to be their leader. One of them charged at you and you skillfully dodged him, grabbing his left arm and bending it in a way that’ll leave him trembling and screaming for his mom. He howled in pain and you smirked. The other thugs looked at each other with worried glances. Hesitantly, they also lunged at you. Throwing a kick and punch there, they were both defeated in less than a second. Hah, weak.

The only one left was the leader. He looked at you with such fear anyone would’ve thought you were Garmadon or the Overlord, or something. He took out a dagger and tried to hit you with it. To your fortune, he was too slow. You expected better for a leader. You kicked your leg at his arm and, surprisingly, he dodged it and impaled your thigh with his dagger. You hissed in pain and recoiled your leg. You glared at him and threw punches in his face and when he was taking in the pain in his face, you took the chance and kicked the dagger out of his hand. Swiftly, you took the weapon and went behind him, putting the dagger to his neck.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect you to actually do damage. You’re stronger than I thought, but too weak to be able to defeat me.” The dagger still on his neck, you threw a punch at him from behind and he passed out. You exhaled and looked at the teenage girls, who had bewildered looks on their faces. You looked through the leader and took the bags and purses of the girls. You gave them back their belongings and one of them started to sob into tears of joy and relief, very much to your dismay.

“T-thank you.. sniff for saving u-us! What can we do f-for you in return?” Thanked the sobbing girl. You awkwardly chuckled and waved your hand. “Eh, just stay safe for me, will ya’? Don’t wanna come to your rescue again.” They smiled and bowed to you before going their way. But just as they were turning their backs, a ninja came out of nowhere and looked at the scene. It was the Green Ninja, again, much to your dismay. He looked at the knocked out thugs behind you and looked at you. Then he looked at the girls, then back at you.

“Did you knock out those dudes?” He crossed his arms as he queried. An imaginary drop of sweat slid down your forehead behind your mask and you nervously tittered. His presence made you so uneasy all of a sudden.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I did.” The girls squealed in excitement and ran out the alleyway, for some reason. You thought they would’ve asked for the celery man’s autograph or something, but no, they straight up ran away. The said man looked at you, then walked in your direction. He stopped in front of you and he crossed his arms, again. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you, F/n." You raised an eyebrow at him then smirked, dramatically taking off your mask. “And here I thought no one would find out I’m me! My, am I in such distress.” You said, even more dramatically and put a hand on your forehead, to make it even more dramatic. He just rolled his eyes, even if you couldn’t see it.

You cleared your throat. “So.... are you gonna.. kidnap me and deliver me to the police or something?” You awkwardly asked and put your hands behind your head as you strayed not too far away. All you did was stare at each other for the past 20 seconds and it was very awkward. The height difference didn’t make things any better.

Then you remembered that the thug stabbed your thigh. And it was bleeding and staining your clothes. You gritted your teeth in pain. Why was it now that you felt the pain? You started to feel slightly lightheaded but played it off (successfully).

“What? No! I’m not gonna kidnap you.” He gushed and looked at you, surprised by your sudden question. “Then what? Am I not supposed to be wanted? You know, this is the moment where you’re supposed to tie my hands up, pick me up on your shoulder, aggressively deposit me at the police station and mysteriously disappear. I actually thought you’d be interesting. I must say, I’m disappointed.” You told him off with a hearty laugh as you turned back to look at him. You started to feel more and more dizzy as the seconds went by. Shit. What if you passed out in front of him? Shit.

He looked down with a perplexed gaze. This was greatly troubling, for sure. What was he supposed to do? Turn you in? You saved these girls before he could even arrive at the scene. But you also saved him. You weren’t evil or mean, like how everyone thinks you are. You may be a criminal, but that’s not what you do 25/8.

That's when he noticed your leg. He gasped. You were bleeding like crazy! How did he not notice this sooner? And why did you seem so calm and nonchalant about it??

"Your- your leg- !" He tried to warn you but you put a finger to his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm gonna go back to my place and treat it, don't worry." You reassured him, but he didn't believe you. It has probably been some time that you started bleeding, and at this point you should've passed out from the blood loss.

God, why did he even care? It's not like you're close or anything… But still. Strangely enough, he felt the need to help you. Not because it's probably just common decency, but for something else.

But his thoughts were interrupted when you tried to walk away. "I'm going back so- so uh… yeah. Stay safe out there.. It's not… It's not safe-" You stopped talking when black dots covered your vision, and you felt yourself go limp. You didn't know what happened next because you just passed out (finally).

Lloyd hurriedly caught you before you could hit the floor. Now what was he supposed to do? He can't get you to the hospital because you're gonna go straight to prison after being treated. He doesn't know where you live. He sighed as he realized he had no other choice but to take you back to the Bounty. The others will surely understand his situation, right?

"Pixal, do you copy?" Spoke Lloyd into his mic thingy. I don't know what it's called.

"Loud and clear, Lloyd. What is it?"

"I'm gonna need you to come pick me up… I'm kind of, uh.. stuck." He chuckled, uneasy. "I'll meet you on the roof of the building on-” He checked their location. “-Elemental Avenue, 451."

"On it."

Lloyd shifted so that he could carry you bridal style. He then jumped on the emergency stairs on the side of buildings and made his way on the rooftop. A minute or two passed, and the Bounty arrived. He climbed in and set the woman down, still having an arm below your head.

He looked up and saw Pixal and Nya coming his way. They both gasped at your sight. "What happened?" Panicked Nya, while Pixal rushed to get the medications and bandages needed.

"Long story…" He half-smiled at his teammate then glanced at you. Why did he feel so worried? He shouldn’t be worried. He shouldn’t care. He thought that it was normal since it was his duty to help the citizens of Ninjago, but you. You? You're a criminal! He can't care for you. He would've dropped you off at the hospital normally, but he didn't like the idea of you ending up in prison after being treated.

What. What? Why didn't he like you being in prison? They spend 50% of their time trying to find you and put you in a jail cell and here he was, not liking you being in prison. What the fuck.

The female nindroid came back a minute later with the med kit. It was only now that they realized they had to remove your pants to treat you. Lloyd unconsciously reddened. Nya carried you to a room with Pixal behind her, still carrying the med kit. They left, leaving poor Lloyd alone with his thoughts that grew more and more overwhelming and obvious each passing second.

Once you were in a different room, the Water Ninja set you down on the bed and gently slid down your pants. The gash was quite big. And your pants were full of blood. She made a mental note to wash it for her. Nya backed away and let her friend do the rest.

Said girl cleaned the blood before applying disinfectant on a piece of cotton and wiping your injury. She couldn't just put a band-aid on the cut. It was pretty large and quite deep.pretty damn deep. She will need to stitch it. Pixal took out a medical sew and sutures to stitch your wound.

An hour or two had passed, and the three girls were still in the room. Lloyd grew more and more anxious. He was about to knock on the door when it opened before he had the chance to. Nya shook her head as she chuckled at the celery man. He looked at her with an expectant gaze.

"Don't worry, she's fine. She'll wake up soon." Comforted the woman. Lloyd sighed in relief and crossed his arms.

“Why didn’t you drop her off at the hospital? They would have treated her and taken her to Kryptarium Prison.”

Lloyd flinched. What was he gonna tell her? He doesn’t even know why himself.

The Water Ninja raised an eyebrow at her comrade. Then she sniggered at him in realization. “Oh~ I get it. You have a crush on a criminal that we met only a week ago.” She continued laughing at the poor vegetable dude. The latter blushed and immediately denied.

“What!? No! Never. A crush? On her? Pff-” He tried to reason, but it was futile. Deep down he knew it was true, but he’d never admit it to anyone, or himself. Nya rolled her eyes with a smile and went her way to the control room.

Lloyd took a deep breath, and went into the room where you were in a deep slumber. He stared into your sleeping figure. What if Nya was right? What if he truly did have a crush on you? What is he gonna do? The others can’t know about this. They were gonna bully the fuck out of him. The more he thinks about it, the weirder he feels about you. Not the bad kind of weird. The.. weird kind of weird.

The green-obsessed man had nothing to do for the moment, so he decided to wait for you to wake up. He took a chair and sat down beside you. Before he knew it, he, too, was falling asleep.

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ㅤ

You woke up to loud snoring. You looked around, sitting up. Lloyd was sleeping on a chair and he was snoring like a father taking a nap.

Wait, what? What’s Lloyd doing in your room?

Then you realized that you weren’t in your room. You tried to recall what happened.

Oh yeah. You passed out. Shouldn't you be in the hospital, though? What the fuck are you doing in.. wherever you are?

You got up from the bed and hissed. You felt something around your thigh. Someone bandaged your wound. You glanced back at the sleeping man beside you. With much pain and energy, you walked towards him and aggressively shook him. “BITCHASS WAKE UP WHERE AM I?”

Vegetable man jolted back up. He rubbed his eyes from his sleep and glared at you. Then he realized you were standing. With an injured leg. “What- Why are you standing?? You should be in bed!” He pushed you back to bed and scolded you. “I don’t need to stay in bed! Answer my question. Where am I?” You angrily responded from where you seated on the bed. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Wait, since when did he get so tall? And so intimidating? You gulped but still kept up a confident figure.

The Green man sighed exasperatedly and looked at you in disdain while putting his hands on his hips. “You’re on the Destiny's Bounty. And don’t worry, I’m.. not the one who cleaned your cut.” He reassured you and you could’ve sworn his face was just the slightest bit of red.

Your breath started to hitch seeing him blush. He looked kind of cute like that.

What?

You shook off the thought and stood up again, much to Lloyd’s dismay. “Where are we?”

“On The Bounty. We can drop you off at yours, if you want?”

“And tell you the location of my secret hideout? No thanks. Just drop me off where we are, I’ll find my way back.” You limped towards the door onto the deck. He strode towards your limping figure and put your arm over his shoulder and helped you walk. “Are you sure? What if you get attacked or something? You won’t be able to fight like that.” He tried to convince you but of course, you denied. But the dude persisted and got on your nerves, so you told him to land you off at Laughy’s.

“Alright then.”

He left you to go to the control room. You looked down at the city and were left agape. Ninjago City looked so beautiful at night, especially from this view. You started to think about Lloyd.

“What if you get attacked or something?”

Why does he care? It’s totally not like you weren’t supposed to be rotting in prison.

10 minutes went by and you were still thinking about him. You realized and reddened. God, why were you thinking so much about him? It’s not like you liked him or anything… That would be weird. Wouldn't it?

“...Be careful, alright?” You looked at Lloyd and smiled, before going your way behind the Club. You made sure The Bounty left and you were out of sight and you went back to your base. You pushed the button on the wall with your index finger, and a door opened. You looked around for any sign of people, and went down the stairs leading to your hideout.

Once you were in, you immediately propped yourself onto your bed. Man, today was a long day. So much happened, but at the same time, so little did. You turned around so you would be facing the ceiling. You thought about Lloyd. Why did he say all those things? Did he mean it? Why is he actually kinda...

You turned around once again and screamed into your pillow. What the fuck was up with you? Did he poison you or something? Or used his weird green power thing to corrupt your mind? So many questions, but so little answers.

You fell asleep still thinking about the vegetable man.

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ㅤ

ㅤ

“LLOYD’S GOT A CRUSH Y’ALL!!”

The people in the room flinched as a certain blue ninja barged in the room. They shared incredibly confused glances before Kai, the Fire Ninja, looked at his teammate in disbelief and surprise.

“Wait wait, what- wait, WHAT?” He said, absolutely and utterly baffled at the fact that their traumatized little bro is actually in love (ignore harumi, she does not exist. fuck harumi btw) with someone. “Spill it! Who is it?”

“Remember F/n? That criminal the police make us search for but we can’t find her?”

“Don’t tell me he likes her!? ” Cole butted in, equally as bewildered as his friend.

The three of them looked at each other before breaking down in a fit of laughter.

Upon hearing the abnormally loud noise coming from the living room, Lloyd entered the room seeing the Red, Blue and Black Ninjas laughing as if they just saw a cockroach pissing on Zane or something. He raised an eyebrow and stared at them questioningly. What was so funny they were guffawing to their doom?

Kai tried to explain but couldn’t, as every time he opened his mouth only a wheeze came out. Cole, being the calmest in the room (but still howling in laughter), explained the situation to the poor boy.

“You- You like F/n??” He pointed at him before laughing just as hard as his comrades.

Lloyd’s eyes widened impossibly in surprise and waved his hands around as he denied the statement with all his might. “What? No! What- Who told you such nonsense? I don’t like F/n! I don’t.”

“Okay okay, but seriously dude. Her? Come on, There’s like, what? 5 billion people in Ninjago? I know you can do so much better!” Jay teasingly punched Lloyd’s arm.

“What? She’s not that bad… She’s actually nice. And what do you mean I can do so much better??” He glared at the boys before realizing what he just said.

“Haha, you admit it! Don’t worry bro, we got you.”

“What- I don’t like her!” He hid his face in his hands in aggravation, but the burning blush visibly displayed on his face said otherwise. “Why don’t you get it?” He looked up and glared at them. They snickered at him in response.

“Ask her out! I’m sure she’ll say yes.” Cole suggested, but his suggestion was quickly turned down by embarrassed Lloyd.

“Huh? No way! She doesn’t look like the type to be into that stuff anyway..” Said boy looked down and scratched his nape. “And besides, we only met like, 3 times. I can’t just ask her out like that.”

“How about you just tell her you wanted to go out as friends or something?”

“Yeah! And then you become friends, then you become good friends, then you crush on each other, then you’re a couple, then you get married and then you have kids- OW??”

Jay was cut off when Kai punched him on the back of his head. Lloyd groaned and sat down on the couch while slouching.

Then something came to the Master of Earth’s mind. “Do you at least have her number?”

Lloyd thought for a bit. “Actually, yeah. But she didn’t exactly give it to me. Remember that time me and Nya had a mission in Sunsetra’s Temple (i also made that up don’t judge me pls)? We, uh… kinda got stuck in a room with rising lava and I tried to text Kai for help, but somehow I texted some other number that ended up being F/n’s. We thought Kai would come but she came instead and yeah, that’s how I have her number. And also how we met.” The green-wearing boy explained, and leaned back while putting his hands behind his head.

ㅤ

“You’re… fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dude, just go text her! Get out! Shoo shoo! Don’t come back until she says whether she’ll go out with you or not!” Jay, quite literally, kicked Lloyd out of the living room. “Ah… Children grow up so fast.” He said, wiping an imaginary tear out of his eye as if he was in some dramatic k-drama or something. The two other boys in the room facepalmed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ——————

09:12 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ62%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUh

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHey

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ(Sent at 09:12 PM)

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

who is this

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIt’s Lloyd

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

why ar eyou texting me at 9 pm??

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI have a question

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

is it important?

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ It is of the utmost importance, yes

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

what’s so important? are you dtrying to distract me so you have the time to trackd my numbef down or smth to find my location and send me to th epolice???

ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤYou know I could’ve done that ages ago?

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤAlso why are you texting like that wtf

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+81 54 553 6978

yes but we never know.

and why not smh🖕

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou text just like Jay

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

is that a compliment or an insult

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Depends

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

well thank you then 😘

anyways what did you want to ask me?

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh I forgot about that

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤWell, It’s kind of embarrassing but

ㅤI wanted to ask if we could go out sometimes…

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

omg

like a date??

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIf you want to, I guess

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

We spoke like twice in our lifetime so

yes you’re right, that is embarrassin LMAAOA

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIs that a no?

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

no actually

yes lloyd, i’ll go out with you 🤧

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWow

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI didn’t think you’d actually say yes

ㅤ

ㅤ

Y/n :)

tbh me neither but i’m giving you a chance bc im just nice like that👍

when and wehre di we meet??

ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤI was thinking about the amusement park?

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤYou seem like the type to go there a lot

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Y/n :)

i unfortunately don’t hav the chance to go because I’ll most likely get arrested

but yes you’re right😋

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤOkay then, I’ll meet you there at uhh

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTuesday at 3:00 PM?

Y/n :)

actually, how about we go somewhere calmer?

i have a mission tuesday morning and i’ll probabaly b etoo drained for an amusement park hahahaj…

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh of course, that’s fine :)

ㅤㅤㅤ How about the new café that just opened?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIt’s pretty calm there

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI think

ㅤ

Y/n :)

very cliché but yes i would love that :))

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAlright, the new café at 3:00 PM?

ㅤ

Y/n :)

yup 👍

see you on tuesday <33

❤️ Liked by Lloyd

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ See you <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❤️ Liked by Y/n :)

ㅤ

Lloyd grinned at the “<3” you sent and propped himself onto his bed, and tightly hugged his pillow as his thoughts grew to be more and more about you.

One thing he knew for sure was that he most certainly looked forward to your date.

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

⤴ I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE ME

A/N: I changed Lloyd's texting style purposely between the chat where he thought Y/n was Kai and when he knew it was Y/n. He texted differently because he thought it would impress Y/n, just a little HC of mine💪💪

© legoffection. Please do not repost my work on any platforms, plagiarize and heavily edit my work under any condition!

[librathefangirl]

6, 27, 28 for ao3 wrapped?

6. Favorite title you used?

Ooh that's a hard question - so far I've posted 25 fics this year - but I think it is "When the War Is Over (How Do We Rebuild Ourselves)". I don't know, I just like the way that one sounds the most. Also, I feel like it's true to the style a lot of my titles have (she said before mentioning several without that style lol).

Honorable mentions: "My Love, It Burns" (looove the double meaning of that one!), "Marks of a Brother", "When the Past Comes Crashing".

Honorable mentions from my wip folder (technically haven't made it to ao3 but still): "Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)", "The Dusk Before a New Dawn", "Wrath of Light".

27. What do you listen to while writing?

As a general rule, nothing. Listening to songs (in a language I understand at least) is more something that gives me fic ideas, so I tend to avoid it. The exception is The Past On My Skin (wip), I've been listening to "Would Anyone Care" by Citizen Soldier while writing that one. But sometimes I listen to my nnt list, especially "Howling", to get into the writing mood (and then shut it off because ~distractions~).

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Again, hard to choose just one... So I'll give you my top three (or at least my top three at this very moment).

When the War Is Over (How Do We Rebuild Ourselves) - I'm gonna have to go with this one again because, well, I really like it. This one was for the ficwip 5k event too, so there's an added pride in me being able to finish it in time. I also liked focusing more on the emotional side of things without any physical whump, and had fun exploring the brothers and the Sins dynamics, as well as potential differences between demons and non-demons (this was after all my Meliodas Can Cook (Demon Food) AU).

The Heat of the Storm - To be completely honest, one of the major reasons this fic is on the list is because it is the origin of my demon thermoregulation hc (explanation post coming soon btw). I also really enjoy the whump in this one, plus playing around with all the Sins knowing Meliodas is a demon but still not fully understanding what that means.

Who'll Hug the Prince of Hell? - Just picking three was still hard lol but I think the last one will have to be my first fic of the year (and the nnt fandom). This was the first fic I posted in a very long time that surpassed 1k words (actually it's over 6k words) and the one that kinda pushed me back into writing more regularly and longer again (this fic and Febuwhump in general). It also helped me realize how much I love to write Meliodas angst/whump :D Plot-wise I also liked that with each of the Sins having their own chapter with Meliodas, I got to explore their respective dynamics with him more. Lastly, "Touch Starved" is a great prompt that can lead to a lot of enjoyable plot and interactions.

Anyway! ao3 wrapped (ask game) <- if anyone wanna send me more questions :)

[sweet-little-dude]

hi hi taku my love!! <3 this is the k polycule ask plus i remembered that i’ve been writing a bajiharu fic and i also wanna talk about that hehe. actually i’ll talk abt that first bc the k polycule is all happy and the bajiharu fic.... not so much. and you deserve healing :)

btw btw beware this is long. really long. i copied this message into a wordcounter and it’s 1.5k without the paragraph you’re reading rn... whoopsies. i insaned a little on my ramble. do tell me if i should shorten it bc it’s too long, and take all the time you need to reply afhjfdgjjgdfh

so okay the bajiharu (baji x sanzu just in case that’s not clear for some reason) wip is currently sitting at 15k and. wtf man 15k ?? i wrote that ?? damn. anyways idk how many of my posts abt it you’ve read but it’s p much a giant character/relationship study of the two. basically bajiharu across the years and timelines. canon compliant too, which sadly means that baji is dead most of the time but oh well. it is VERY angsty (i mean baji is dead that’s where the angst is starting already... and i mean sanzu’s canon life) and uh. i keep describing sanzu dying in nearly every future timeline but i’m having a ton of fun :D also it’s gonna be angst with a happy ending when i’m finished and probably around 30k words. a 30k one-shot. i don’t think i can even chapter it.... welp. accidents happen. yk this was supposed to be a maximum of 5k of bajiharu in the og shin timeline (the one in which he lives and mikey has the accident and ends up dying and stuff) and the final timeline but. uhh. uhm. yeah honestly idk what i did but my brain wouldn’t let go of them so here we are lol

i would summarise the plot of the fic but there hardly is one ?? like it’s just random excerpts from their lives. i mean some of them are like 3k long too and def have plots in and of itself but there’s no greater plot to be summarised 😭

tho what i can say is that they actually are somewhat together in the og timeline and they are.. happily together. they are NOT happy in fact they are miserable but they love each other in a tender way yk. but but they WILL be happy in the final timeline. and happily together too!! i just need them to be happy pls okay thanks. in between baji is dead so not many feelings on his part (😭😭) but sanzu is a miserable wet cat. also i have the most tragic death planned for him in the bonten timeline bc i am a ‘‘weird on-off-ish romance-ish but they don't wanna admit it's that even though it very obviously is and there is so much emotional (and sexual) tension and my god how can they live like this’’ bonten rinzu truther. wowie. and wouldn’t it be really fun if rindou accidentally shot sanzu on a mission gone heavily wrong that ends in sanzu dying in his arms? yeah <3

also!! akashi siblings!! i very much plan on writing abt them too in some timelines. specifically i think i’ll have sanzu move in with senju in the manila timeline before mikey kills him off (i am so excited to write this you don’t know istg) and i’ll have him move back in with takeomi in that one timeline in which izana takes over and naoto & takemichi end up dying in the future bc i hc that senju was shot dead in the past and sanzu has nowhere else to go after mikey’s death (bc he’s actually dead in that future...) so yeah. akashi siblings <3

also in case you wonder what my current 15k cover so far (i’m forcing myself to write chronologically for once bc i really wanna finish this and i’ve got a lot of scenes i’m excited to write i can use to push through the others), it’s the og timeline, the timeline in which draken gets killed by kiyomasa, one of the two following timelines in which draken survives and ends up on death row (i decided to cut one of them bc imo they’re too similar to write abt again), and some past stuff happening before that. which. is not a lot. just now realising how unmuch that is actually wtf it feels like sm more- okay anyways i plan on writing about the bad toman timeline with takemichi as executive, the manila future, bonten future, the future timeline after that with izana, and naoto & takemichi dying, possibly some tenjiku timeskip stuff, and then ofc the final timeline. (i. i gotta say i hope those 30k aren’t lowballing it by like 10k bc if you consider that i’ve written for three timelines plus some inbetween bits and i’m planning for another five whole timelines with inbetween stuff-- ayayay bajiharu is gonna be the death of me)

uhm this is already mUCH longer than planned help buuuut some k polycule stuff bc i love them and they love each other and they are happy. okay so ik you read my posts abt them so i’ll just start with them in their mid/late thirties, finally settled down somewhere they feel safe and they actually like :3 cough cough switzerland mayhaps ? cough cough. yk it can’t be japan anyways... and switzerland is far away...... and i know it well....

okay. they adopt a cat. or maybe two. probably two actually. two cats for them bc they’d like some company other than themselves and kazutora loves cats anyways. i believe that koko is actually more of a dog person bc inupi, but he’s the type of guy to go ‘‘ofc YOU GUYS can get a cat. it’s gonna be YOUR cat. YOU will have to take care of it. i won’t (unless absolutely neccessary.)’’ and then a month or smth after they get a cat kazutora & kakucho are away for a weekend for.. work or smth idk and when they get home koko & the cat are sleeping on the couch while he’s hugging the cat close to his chest, and there’s cat toys all over the floor bc he spent hours playing with the cat. he will still refuse to admit how much he loves the cat but he continues to play and snuggle with it whenever his bfs (husbands? i feel like they’d wear matching wedding rings and call each other husbands even if they legally aren’t bc poly marriage is forbidden) aren’t there to see. also this is really random but kakucho is the small spoon, kokonoi the middle spoon, and kazutora the big spoon. or two of them just sleep hugging the third person.

kazutora would work at a pet shop again i think. maybe he’d even study medicine to become a vet assistant? tbh i’ve always seen him doing that more than chifuyu or baji (tho i love vet student baji too <3). struggling with giving the other two jobs bc after bonten i don’t think kakucho would still want to work with kids (tho i def see him doing some kind of charity work in his free time) and kokonoi... he can’t sponsor anyone like this nor could he do finances for anyone, and he would never ever work at a bank. he’d still like a high paying job/smth at least loosly related to money tho. maybe like some sort of secretary for someone in finances? idk. very open to ideas for these two bc well i am stuck lol.

i think they’d mostly just try to take it slow and enjoy their more peaceful lives now (well kazutora’s life was pretty peaceful before too.. but kokonoi & kakucho) without having to worry about illegal and dangerous and whatnot else stuff. they deserve it okay they all had to go through too many things 😭

also more random stuff about them. kokonoi is banned from the kitchen not because he’s a safety hazard or because he burned down the kitchen once or smth but because he keeps wanting to cook overly expensive gourmet foods, and while they do taste good they are way too expensive and take way too much. plus he HATES having other people in the kitchen with him (he straight up locks them out) and refuses to leave the kitchen while he’s cooking even if he has to wait two hours for something to slowly simmer on low heat so essentially he AND the kitchen are gone for half a day if he wants to make dinner. he doesn’t really mind the kitchen ban though so it works. i think kakucho enjoys cooking the most, but he and kazutora both cook a lot. and sometimes kokonoi forces himself to wake up extra early on weekends (like. 6am. and then he’s done at 7am. and the other two wake up at 9am when early, more like 10am to 11am bc weekend and kokonoi has to wait with his beautifully prepared breakfast for hours) to make pancakes for them all <3

uhh that’s everything in my brain rn i think. i hope. and this is already a fucking essay so whoopsies. anyways that was it, i very much hope you enjoyed my long ass rambles <3 fr fr i missed writing these rambles for you,, but aa i can do that again!! :D

hello elys my love <333 but allg!! i actually read this whole thing a few days after u sent it initially but ive been rlly drained these past like 3 weeks so i hadnt been able to get to it :(( apologies again my love

no cuz fr 15k crazy!!!!! good job!!! no cuz like that lil description of ur rinzu is actually so real.... (this is making me miss my tokyorev hyperfixation so bad ngl) but ur bajiharu fic sounds so good!! the idea and concept of it is so well thought of i applaud u so muchhh

NO CUZ FR WRITING ABT THINGS UR FAMILIAR WITH >> its like u know it so fuckin well which means u can go into rlly good amounts of detail like !!!!!!!!!! ok so first paragraph is so :333 koko being a softie for the cat is so sweettttt omg

i think the jobs u chose for them are good !! suits them all very well but yes agreed they most definitely deserve it <33

ofc its kokonoi doing that, but u cant blame him fr hez just being a good husband </3333

it was fun having this in my inbox again !!! i miss doing these too and i hope the late reply doesnt discourage u <333

[jackrrabbit]

[excerpts of upcoming works.]

so as i discovered on @dream-theory the other day, i have over 63,000 words of wips right now??

i'm trying to rev myself up to post more, so here are a few excerpts from some of my favorite unfinished works, ranging from smut to fucked up smut! if anything here looks interesting to you, lmk so i'll be extra motivated to finish it ♥︎

pairings included in this post: [BNHA] Hawks x reader ✧ [BNHA] Todoroki x reader ✧ [BNHA] Overhaul x reader ✧ [BNHA] Shigaraki x reader (iwcb p4!) ✧ [KNY] Sanemi x reader (x Rengoku).

cw for all works: 18+, f!reader, all characters are adults. (btw these are the usual shitty first drafts, please have mercy 😭)

[BNHA] Hawks x reader /// Champagne Room

Summary: A petty thief gets more than she bargained for when she tries to take advantage of a pro.

Warnings: stripper!reader, love-drunk Hawks

Status: 2.5k words written out of ~5k total

You wouldn’t call yourself a villain, but sometimes you get jobs. At first it was all anonymous: letters in your mailbox with no return address, voicemails from blocked numbers. A time and a date, a name, a list of questions. And a number. Your reward. You ignored the requests at first, but then the numbers got bigger and bigger—and hey, if they knew your phone number and your address you were already screwed, so…

You made it happen. You did your thing (seduction, interrogation, et cetera) same as usual, except this time you did it on command. It was just one time, and then then two times, and—wow, the money was good. Way better than what you were getting skimming cards. You’re saving up for a house now. You’re gonna retire early. Maybe all the times you got called a tease or a slut or a bitch in high school because of your quirk were worth it, because now the newspapers are starting to call you Heartbreaker. For a villain name, it has a nice ring to it.

Hawks isn’t a job like those, though. He’s more of a vanity project, an impulse target. You’ll go easy on him—you’ll just get his savings account info and take a few rent payments out of it. No harm, no foul. Won’t even make a dent in his hero income, you’re nice like that.

“So…Keigo…do you trust me?” You rub your ass against the stiff bulge and trace fingers down the rigid bones at the top of his wings. You’re laying your quirk on so thick you can almost smell it in the air, you can almost taste it. So can he.

Hawks breathes in and his whole body trembles. “Course I do, angel, of course…fuck, I…” He blinks quickly. You can see it bearing down onto him, pushing away his self-interest: your influence, your charisma. Your quirk. The lights change and the melted gold of his eyes is slashed pink-purple-blue in the reflection. Wings curl around you, closing you in like an embrace.

“Can you do something for me?”

“…sure, if you want…?” Anything you want, anything for you, his hands say, hovering, almost touching your thighs, but Hawks won’t touch you until you give him permission, he can’t.

“Anything?” you ask, staring deep into his eyes like this is a romance novel and not a private room where you’re about to steal from the #2 hero. It’s like hypnosis, to be honest. Needs a connection.

“Anything, angel,” he breathes.

[BNHA] Todoroki x reader /// Experience

Summary: Todoroki knows his relationship with his boss will only work as long as there are no strings attached, but the arrangement gets a lot more complicated when her ex comes back into the picture.

Warnings: office relationship, alcohol mention

Status: 5.3k words written out of 8k (??? who fucking knows) total

They’re both laughing now, giggling like schoolchildren testing out curse words for the first time. The look on Todoroki’s face must not be as neutral as he wants it to be, because Kaminari notices—turns toward him and asks, “what do you think, Todoroki?”

It’s harmless. Todoroki knows that, knows Kaminari and Ashido don’t mean anything by it. It’s the same thing the other students do in university with good-looking professors and TAs, the way they’ve always done. And even though Todoroki doesn’t really understand the way they see you (hot for teacher? ice princess?) he can’t really admit he disagrees.

“Todoroki? You okay?” Ashido frowns and waves her hand in front of his face. “You’re totally zoned out tonight.”

“…I should go,” Todoroki says, standing suddenly and collecting his coat from the seat next to him. Ashido and Kaminari protest (“it’s early! you’re not even drunk yet!”), but he ignores them. “I have to go back to the office.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re going to work even more,” Kaminari moans while Ashido nods ruefully along with him. “You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Todoroki doesn’t need to work. He needs one of the account files for a deadline this weekend, and that’s what he tells them while he calls a car to take him back. He could get it tomorrow, Saturday—which is what he was planning to when he left this evening—but he wants to be there now, for some reason…it’s past 9PM on a Friday, and there’s no reason that you’d still be there, but…

There you are, sitting alone in your office, facing the view of the late-night skyline through your window. The sky is flat purple-black—there’s too much pollution to see the stars here in the city, Todoroki knows that—but the surrounding buildings are shimmering in the dark. You turn when you hear the door to the office open, and the expression on your face is like you’ve been caught in a private moment, something you didn’t intend for him to see.

“…Todoroki.” Your mouth moves around his name like you’re testing it. “You’re back.”

“I need to pick up the Steubens file,” he says slowly, hoping you can’t hear any hint of uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t drink much (two, two and half maybe, and his tolerance is always better than people think it is) but he doesn’t want you to think he’s been irresponsible.

“You should take a break this weekend. Don’t worry about the deadline, I’ll take care of it,” you tell him, letting your gaze flick over him. You frown a bit and he wonders what you’re seeing—his dress shirt unbuttoned under his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up past his forearms; his hair a little rumpled out of the style he puts it in for work. “Were you out with the interns? You didn’t need to come back to the office.”

Todoroki pulls long fingers through his hair and you follow the movement. “I don’t mind.”

You have this way of looking at him—always appraising, evaluating him against some secret standard that he may or may not measure up to. Kaminari’s theorized that it’s an intimidation tactic. It makes the other interns squirm, but Todoroki doesn’t have trouble holding your gaze. “If you insist,” you say finally. “But you shouldn’t work too hard. You should enjoy life while you’re young.”

The file is in the cabinet at your right, exactly where Todoroki knows you keep it. He should just take it. He should leave the office and go home, go to sleep. He should stop—standing here, in front of your desk, looking down at you, wanting you. Your hands, your voice, the soft bow of your lips… Maybe he’s less sober than he thought he was. He wants to touch you. He wants to be touched.

“(Y/N),” he says. It isn’t supposed to sound like it does, like a sigh. “I’m sorry…I’ve been drinking.”

You’ve already turned back to the screen of your computer, but you still shrug. “Why are you sorry? You’re an adult, what you do on you own time isn’t any of my business. As long as you’re getting your work done…”

“Not for that,” Todoroki says. “I’m sorry for this.” And he leans down, folds his hand under your chin, and kisses you.

You’re stiff for a second—he can feel the surprised intake of breath with your mouth against his—but he pushes closer to you and you relax, fraction by fraction. Your mouth tastes fresh and sweet, like peppermint. His hand finds the desk—bracing himself, he feels like his knees might give out—and the edge of one of your documents bites into the side of his palm. Let this be real, he thinks. Don’t let her move.

Closer, he has to be closer to you.

Todoroki kisses you harder.

[BNHA] Overhaul x reader /// do no harm

Summary: He'd forgotten what it feels like to want something this badly. (—over the course of his imprisonment in Tartarus, Chisaki develops a fixation on a young researcher sent to rebuild his arms.)

Warnings!!!!: prison setting, ableism, mentions of injury and unethical medical/prison practices, mentions of drug addiction, Chisaki's mental state is not healthy, this one's gonna be pretty fucked ngl

Status: 1.8 words written out of an infinite amount total...seriously I have no idea for this one, it's been marinating in my head since I first created this blog :x

Red—

Lights, cold. His eyes are already open. In the exam room. Someone’s speaking, not the doctor, not one of the nurses, someone else.

Someone else?

White, white. Someone’s hand hovering over his shoulder, latex gloves brushing his skin. Not a doctor. You don’t feel like a doctor. You keep— skimming over his chest, too nervous to really touch him. Your hands are warm in the center, cold at the fingertips. You touch him like you’re afraid. You feel—

He can—he can smell you. Everything here smells sterile and chemical and he got used to it, let it fade into the background until the millisecond of metallic blood smell after they take the needle out of his leg makes him ill. Overhaul breathes in and smells you, smells the soap you washed your hair with. Something—something sweet? He can’t— he can’t— why are you so close? You want him to lie down. Why are you touching him? You’re not a nurse, not a doctor. He feels dizzy breathing you in.

Your voice. You’re telling him to lie down again. He’s trying to ignore you like he ignores everything here but your voice is—

softer, lighter. Different. Don’t look. Don’t listen. Close your eyes, Overhaul thinks to himself, ignore her.

“Please,” you say. “Chisaki.”

You’re touching him now, getting ready to push him flat on his back like an invalid, and with the phantom limbs he can feel sometimes itching and aching in thin air, he wants to wrap his fingers around your wrist and break it.

You pleaded. You said his name. He hasn’t heard his own name in—a year? Two? How long has it been?

He lies down.

He wants to sleep again. He knows what they give him—he knows the name of the drug cocktail and all the chemical compounds that make it up and he knows the effects it can have when taken long-term. It’s a sedative, it makes him feel numb and sometimes if he’s numb enough he can even manage to enjoy it. But if he’s not he feels himself lying there while the drugs crawl through his circulatory system and into his brain, eating away at the parts of himself that he used to think were worth keeping. God, god, it feels filthy. He would purge himself—rip himself to shreds and put them back together clean—if he could.

He wants to sleep, but the smell of your soap—

“Chisaki, do you know why I’m here?”

I don’t know, he thinks. I don’t care.

“It’s about your arms.”

Overhaul doesn’t have arms. The prostheses are controlled externally by people who think Shigaraki should have finished the job. He can barely feed himself without assistance, can’t even piss without getting permission from one of the penal officers to activate the bionics. They’re not his arms.

“I’m here to see if I can…fix them.”

Overhaul closes his eyes. Black.

[BNHA] Shigaraki x reader /// it will come back [pt. 4]

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Warnings: mentions of injury, pain, fear, this is an extremely rough draft ngl I really need to edit :/

Status: 5.2k words written out of maybe 8k total

His bedroom looks like you would’ve thought it would look like if you had ever thought about it. Nice computer with two monitors, some books, lots of gaming stuff. A map above the computer pinned with documents, newspaper clippings, pictures, some of which extend past the wall and onto the ceiling. Serial killer shit. Fitting. The window is blocked out with heavy curtains, and the only light in the room comes from the purplish gleam of the monitors. Tomura sets you and your bag down on his unmade bed and pulls your ankle into his lap along with some ice cubes in a towel, a roll of Ace bandages, a white plastic pharmacy bottle that rattles when he drops it on the mattress.

“Um—I can do that,” you say, but Tomura ignores you, peeling your sock down and wrapping the bandages around your ankle. “You don’t have to—it doesn’t have to be that tight.”

He ignores that too. You’re almost glad that you’re in pain. It’s giving you something to focus on besides his hands.

“Why were you at the bar?” Tomura asks.

“I…don’t know, I got lost on my way back from work.”

“You don’t get lost.” He coils the bandage around one more time before tucking the edge under to hold it in place. “Were you looking for me?”

You inhale, counting out three beats to make sure it doesn’t sound too fast. “It was just a coincidence.” He doesn’t look convinced, so you shrug, hoping you look more nonchalant than you feel. “Really.”

Does he know?

He couldn’t. There’s no way. Stop talking, don’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know. Stop thinking about him killing kids.

Tomura’s done wrapping your ankle, but he’s not moving away from you. “You shouldn’t go out in the rain like that. You could get sick.”

“You’re…you’re one to talk.”

“You’re different than me. You break so easily.” His grip moves up from your ankle and his hands are cold from the ice. Your ankle feels stiff, achy. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain.

How much will it hurt if Tomura touches you? You can’t take your eyes off his hand, stark white and threaded with blue veins against the dark fabric of your skirt. You saw the cast Aizawa was wearing, the gauze taped on his face, the way he winced a little bit whenever he moved quickly back at the hospital. You can’t even imagine how that feels…to have your living body flake off into dust, from your skin all the way down to your bones.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god. Don’t cry. You’ll get out of this. He’s not going to hurt you. Just play along.

Tomura runs a hand over your ankle again and a sound comes out of your mouth that you can’t even categorize. “Is it really that bad?” he asks, and it’s almost worse to know that he’s asking out of genuine curiosity. God knows what he’s been through in the past week—the gunshots. the infection—must have felt a thousand times worse.

You try to slow your breathing but you’re having a hard time remembering what it’s supposed to sound like. “I think I need to see a doctor."

“You’re acting weird.”

You let out a high, tense laugh. “It really hurts, Tomura, what do you expect?”

“No…you’ve been acting weird since I called you earlier.” Red eyes narrow into slits and move over the strained look on your face. “Maybe you did get sick.”

“Sure. Maybe.”

Tomura lifts the back of his hand to his own forehead and then reaches out to you to compare your temperature to his, only—you don’t see that. What you see is the leader of the League of Villains with his hand out, so close to your head that you can make out the dirt under his fingernails. You see the police sketch of his villain costume from one of the articles you read, those grey embalmed hands trapped in rigor mortis around his limbs and his face. You see the news photo of the kids from UA. High school first-years, but some of them looked younger. Like the green-haired kid…you would have guessed 13 years old, 14 maybe. They did an interview with the girl—the cute one with big eyes and a frog quirk? The one he almost killed? She said she could smell the dead hands on Shigaraki’s costume when he was two inches away from her face: chemical antiseptic almost like perfume, layered over something rotting.

Tomura’s not wearing his costume now. He’s never worn it in front of you. But you almost feel like you can smell it anyway.

[KNY] Sanemi x reader x Rengoku /// to the hilt

Summary: After an injury that ends your career as a demon slayer, you struggle to adjust to your newfound vulnerability and the protectiveness of the the two Hashira who consider you their responsibility. (—Sanemi makes threats, and Rengoku enforces them.)

Warnings: protective/patronizing behavior, mentions of injury, dependent reader, possibly coercive vibes??, Rengoku doesn't make an appearance in this excerpt (he shows up later)

Status: 2.8k words written out of 6–7k total

"How many times do I have to tell you you’re not strong enough to be using your hands?” Sanemi's voice is thin with anger, and he lets you hear it. Of course he’s angry. It’s like you’re doing this on purpose, making yourself sicker, forcing him to force you to give up already. The flash of pain that passes over your face is almost enough to make him feel guilty, but you should know better by now. What’s the point of trying to go through the motions? You’ll never fight again. “You don’t need to be useful.”

“I know! I’m not… I know I’m not healed enough, I get it. Do we have to talk about this?”

He glares—do you really understand?—but he lets it go. Settles back, keeps the peace, for your sake. For now. “Just keep eating.”

You oblige gratefully, digging into the food that’s left as quickly as you seem to be able to. Sanemi watches and keeps his mouth shut even when you fumble. He’s too angry with you, too pushy sometimes. He knows. But how else is he supposed to keep you from making your injury worse? If you didn’t need him—him and Rengoku, at least—you’d just leave. Sanemi’s never suggested it himself (to be honest, he doesn’t even let himself think about the possibility of you leaving the dojo), but you could. You’re here because you want to be. Because you’re not strong enough to set your own limits, follow the boundaries you’ve been given in order to heal. You need them. You need them to keep you safe.

Through the window, the moon is rising little by little, saturating the courtyard outside with watery light. There’s a lamp in your bedroom but it’s unlit—seems like you prefer the dim light of the outdoors and the faint glow of the hallway through your door. Were you just sitting here in the dark before he came?

The image comes to his mind too easily—you sitting at the window in your thin kimono for hours, staring blankly as the world outside dips into night. It doesn’t fit you…or at least it doesn’t fit the person you’re supposed to be.

(the person you were before.)

“Why is it so fucking dark in here? It’s depressing,” he asks, stacking your discarded dishes and setting the tray to the side once you’ve finished. The only thing left is the sake bowl, which you lift to your mouth very carefully before patting your lips dry and offering it back to Sanemi.

He takes it, still waiting for your response, but you wait for him to drink before you answer. “It isn’t that dark with the moon out like this.”

You’re right, in a way. By now Sanemi’s vision has adjusted enough so that he can see everything from the moonlight alone—weeds poking out from the stone slabs outside, rippling movement from the wisteria flowers, and…

…the unbound hair unfurling like a halo around your face, your rumpled kimono baring a little too much of your throat, the shadows that your eyelashes paint down over your cheekbones when you close your eyes. Sanemi exhales, shifts back and takes another sip from the bowl. “Are you tired? Did you want to sleep?”

“No, I—“ you turn to the side, looking deeper into the bedroom so your face is caught in shadow for a second. Like after all of this, you can’t look him in the eye when you say it. “You’re leaving for a mission tomorrow, aren’t you? I thought…maybe you would come. And we could have a drink.”

Ah…she doesn’t want to say it. That’s fine. Sanemi knows what you need.

You extend a hand out for the bowl that the two of you have been trading back and forth, but your fingers don’t meet the ceramic—he’s already reaching out for you, pulling you in toward him, and when you bite your lip and nod he lies you down until your back meets the tatami below. Here, right here. Your body underneath his, the only place where he can really convince himself you’re safe.

You fumble to untie the sash of your kimono, slipping awkwardly over the bindings every time you try to get ahold of them, but Sanemi settles himself over you and pins your wrists down and forces your trembling hands into stillness. “Let me,” he says.

if you reached the end of this post, thank you for reading!! please tell me if there were any wips you liked/want to see more of :]

[thefoxandthepenguine]

What if…? (Part 2)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: AU. You missed your chance with Wanda and now she is marrying someone else. What if…you are given a second chance to make things right?

Genre/Warnings: Fluff/Angst, a few curse words, mention of alcohol. Let me know if I miss anything.

Word count: 5k (This is way longer than I’ve originally planned LOL)

a/n: Thanks for all of your liking for this series. Reading your comments and reblogs always makes me smile.❤️ It has taken me such a long time to come up with the plot and put the ideas down into words. So I really hope you all will enjoy this story. And a big thank you to my friend who spends so much time discussing the plot with me and being my beta reader. Bold and italic fonts indicate flashback. As usual, good reading! :)

Btw, one small final note at the end.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

(Gif found online. I don't own it.)

Part 2 - The Lady In Red

“Okay…alright. Seventh of May, 2018? Really?” Huffing irritably, you can feel the rage pulses through your veins.

You take a step towards Natasha and poke her in the shoulder. “I don’t know how you managed to pull this up,” your other hand gestures to the room and your face agitatedly, “but this is not funny Natasha Romanoff! You know what this means to me and I’m so sick now. This shitty stunt is going to end RIGHT NOW! Now where’s my phone?”

Natasha’s brows draw together in a concerned frown, her mouth falls open and shuts for a few times before replying uncertainly, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about Y/N.”

“Really?” You roll your eyes in sheer exasperation.

She cannot be serious.

“Y/N－” Wanda steps between Natasha and you. Gently, she strokes your arm, trying to calm you down.

“And you Wanda!” A sudden pang of frustration washes over you when you look in Wanda’s eyes, “I can’t believe you’re doing this with Nat! You can’t just－you can’t do this to me…”

Why is Wanda doing this to you?

Why pick this date out of all the other possible dates if they simply want to mess around?

Does Wanda know how you think of her and decide to mock you about it?

Is that why they are doing this to you?

You catch Wanda and Natasha exchanging a confused look before stepping towards you tentatively, looking at you in concern.

You thought maybe they are going to apologize and end whatever this shit is. But much to your surprise, they hug you tightly in their arms.

“I know it’s been stressful lately and a therapy session might sound intimidating, but we can definitely go together with you. We’re your best friends no matter what happens.” Natasha leans her forehead against your temple, and you cannot help but frown at her words.

“Wh－what are you talking about?”

“We can skip the first class if you want. We can…uh I don’t know? Go grab a nice breakfast before we start looking for therapists nearby?” Wanda strokes your head tenderly while speaking softly at your ears.

…What the hell is going on here?

“Oh my God…you two are just unbearable!” You shake your head in disbelief, “keep this little drama as long as you want. I’m done!” You shove them away and storm off to the door.

Your jaw drops on the ground, again, when you open the door and take in the surroundings.

You know it all too well.

It is the corridor of your dormitory and you see so many people you know from college walking past and greeting you.

“Hey Y/N!”

“Good morning!”

Frozen at the doorway, you blink your eyes confusedly for a few times before shutting the door and stumbling back to your room. “For God’s sake…what is that?”

There is no way Natasha and Wanda would go through so much just to mess with you.

Is that really what you think is happening?

“Y/N…” You ignore the pleading voice from Wanda and go for the phone laying on your bed.

You are shocked as hell when you are able to unlock it with your usual password and your fingers tremble slightly while typing “date of today” in the search bar. You take a deep breath before pressing Enter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You speak in a low mumble to yourself.

7th, May, 2018

“So it’s really 2018 now?” You look up at Wanda and Natasha in wide-eyed astonishment.

Wanda and Natasha exchange a bewildered look before nodding at you in sync.

“Holy shit…”

Did you just travel back in time?

//

Walking down the road to the campus with Wanda and Natasha, you finally convince them you do not need to be sent to the hospital and you were just drunk.

The two of them are slightly ahead of you when Wanda turns around and looks at you in concern, “are you feeling better now Y/N?”

“Yea…yea. I-uh-I-I’m much better.” You manage to stammer a reply, still a bit caught up in the fact that you have just travelled back in time.

Is the time-travelling thing even possible? Like for real?

That is when Wanda beams a reassuring smile at you. Her hair cascades naturally over her shoulders, a few strands of her locks flying in the brisk breeze. Wanda lifts her head, flicking her hair off her face.

“Y/N?”

You gulp as Wanda’s voice breaks you out of your trance.

What if this is your shot?

Your heart misses a beat at that thought.

What if this is the chance for you to make things right?

You remember everything happened at night. At Tony’s party.

You were holding a solo cup in each of your hands, trying to push your way through the crowd when you heard people around you burst into wild applause.

“I’m in love with you Wanda. Will you be my girlfriend?” Vision asked in the center of the dance floor, everyone in the party was wildly enthusiastic.

Except you.

You came to an abrupt halt, clenching the cups tightly in your hands.

You hid yourself in the crowd and gazed at Wanda’s face. You waited for several seconds, the world came to a screeching halt when you watched her mouth move in a certain way, saying something you could not hear clearly from a distance.

Everyone broke into rapturous applause the next moment.

You mumbled a “sorry” when the booze spilled out from the cup as you held it all too hard, smashing the cup and splashing the liquid all over the ground.

What if you say those words before Vision does?

“Wanda?”

“Yeah?” Wanda tilts her head and scrunches her nose, looking at you expectantly.

You did not do anything in the past and you let Wanda slip away from you. Maybe this is really your shot. Your shot to change everything. To make things right this time.

You take a deep breath.

“Will you go to the party with me tonight?” You can literally feel the heartbeat in your throat now.

“I thought we’re going together.” Wanda turns around to look back and forth between Natasha and you, her eyes blinking in confusion.

“Yeah…but no. That’s not what I meant,” your gaze darts to Natasha who is now biting back her smile, “I mean will you go with me?”

“Oh…” Wanda watches you in silence, her mouth gaping open.

“What do you say?” You take a step forward to Wanda, speaking softly while plucking up as much courage as you have to look squarely into her eyes.

But what if she says no?

Is there a way to travel back in time again?

“Well…I mean I’m only saying yes cause we’re planning to go together anyway.” Wanda bites on her lower lips before walking away.

You cannot stop yourself from thinking how cute Wanda looks when her cheeks flush red.

Because of you.

“Good…great!” You stare at Wanda’s back, smiling like an idiot. “It’s a date then!” You shout in the middle of the road, drawing attention from everyone passing by.

“Sh-shut up! Everyone’s looking!” Wanda scurries back to you and sputters.

“It’s a date right?” You beam a wide smile at Wanda, your heart throbbing with happiness at the idea－

It’s your date. With Wanda.

“I-I mean…let’s go! We’re already late!” Wanda dodges your question and storms off again.

But you guess you do not have to ask for the answer again judging by the look on Wanda’s face.

“Not bad huh?” Natasha nudges your elbow on your way catching up with Wanda.

“It’s perfect this time.”

“This time?”

“This time.”

//

You do not have any more alone time with Wanda until the classes end in the afternoon. But you did not go back to the dormitory together with her. Instead, you promised Wanda you will go pick her up and leave immediately after class.

You have something important to do.

And now here you are, sigh looking at your bank balance before taking almost everything you have in your account.

Looks like you are going to take more shifts now.

But you know it is certainly worth going for.

You drive to the department store and go straight to the accessory shop after locating it in the directory.

“Good afternoon. May I help you?” The shop assistant greets you the moment you step into the store.

“Uh-actually I’m looking for a necklace which has a dark green or hm…blackish round pendant,” your fingers slide over the glass, looking through the window at the shimmering display of accessories until you see the one you want.

“That’s it! Can I take that one please?” You point to the necklace which looks exactly the same as you remember.

“Sure! Let me wrap it for you.”

You smile at the shop assistant and wait at the counter.

You know Wanda will definitely like it. You remember she took more shifts and saved up for several months just to buy this necklace since she had seen it in the magazine.

It’s perfect. The date. The necklace－

“Y/N!”

You hear someone calling you from behind and that voice just sends a shiver down your spine right away.

You fake a smile forcefully as you look over your shoulder. “Hello Jessie. What a coincidence.”

Normally you will be more than pleased to stay around with beautiful girls. Well who doesn’t like pretty girls after all?

But Jessie…let’s just say her gushing display of affection over you always makes you uncomfortable.

“Buying something for tonight’s party?” Jessie looks over your back, watching the shop assistant packing the necklace for you.

“Oh that’s just for a friend.” You gloss over the question, hoping to end the conversation right there.

“Hm. I wonder who’s that lucky person,” Jessie pouts and walks closer to you, brushing your arm as she speaks, “anyway I’m going to Tony’s party as well. Will you come with me? You can help me with the dress as well!”

You pull yourself away from her touch silently, keeping a distance deliberately between the two of you. “Oh Jessie…I’d love to but I’m going with my friends tonight.” You see the shop assistant handing the gift bag to you just in time from the corner of your eyes. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Thank god she’s your lifesaver.

“Thank you so much!” You smile at the shop assistant before turning around and waving goodbye at Jessie, “Well I gotta go and catch up with them. See you tonight.”

You flee the scene without looking back.

//

The door swifts open the moment you knock on it.

“Y/N! You’re here! I’m so sorry but I need another 5 minutes. I-I haven’t finished the make up yet.” Wanda said with an apologetic smile.

Your mouth gapes slightly when you see Wanda standing at the doorway, too caught up in the breathtaking beauty right in front of your eyes.

Wanda is wearing a burgundy dress. A short, simple dress that hits right at mid-thigh, flattering her slender figure almost too perfectly.

This dress is not the one Wanda wore for tonight’s party as you remember.

“Y/N?” Wanda looks at you with her brows snapped together.

Wanda must have said something while you are staring. “Are you still feeling alright? We can stay here if you’re－”

“No! It’s just-I mean you look adorable in that dress.” You grin sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck as you manage to stutter a reply.

Wanda smiles shyly, a pink flush spread over her cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself. Come on in.”

You step inside Wanda’s room and sit on the windowsill as you always do.

“Just give me five more minutes.” Wanda says and you nod without saying anything, swinging your legs carefreely.

The late afternoon sunlight sheds into the room, casting a soft glow on Wanda’s face. You sit basking in the warm sunlight, gazing intently as Wanda puts on her makeup at the desk.

This feels like it is just another random Monday.

It is so calm that somehow you forgot you just travelled back in time for a split second.

“Wanda?” You whisper softly, not wanting to ripple the serenity in the room.

“Hm?” Wanda responds idly without breaking her gaze from the mirror.

“Come here. Lemme help you.”

This is when Wanda finally looks up to meet your eyes, raising her brows with surprise. “Are you sure?”

You nod and beckon her over.

Tentatively, Wanda steps between your thighs, tilting her head back slightly to look up at you. Your fingers brushing over her cheeks tenderly as you tuck a strand of Wanda’s locks behind her ears.

Wanda’s cheeks are warm. You wonder if it is because of the sunlight or the close proximity between the two of you.

Wanda is standing close to you. So close that you can almost see every detail on her face.

You can tell Wanda’s long, dark eyelashes flutter lightly when your fingers brush over her face.

You can feel Wanda’s ragged breath tickling your neck.

And your heart gives a flutter when you look into her eyes. Her emerald eyes seem to bore into you and you can almost see yourself from the reflection of her eyes.

Wanda looks mesmerizing. Perfect.

This is perfect.

You take the lipstick from Wanda’s hand and she closes her eyes as you lean in.

“Open your eyes.”

Wanda’s eyelids flicker before opening her eyes as you told.

And you see yourself again. From her eyes.

You lift Wanda’s chin with one hand and gently rest your other hand on her chin, applying the lipstick from the center to the corner of her lips. You are studying her face when Wanda pulls away in an instant after you have just finished applying the lipstick.

“Wait.” Your voice is somehow dropping low. You tighten your grip on Wanda’s chin slightly before swiping your ring finger over the tip of the lipstick and dab it delicately on her lips to make it look more even. “There you go.”

Wanda smacks her lips together instinctively when you let go of her chin.

“You look breathtaking.” You smile and nod contentedly at Wanda and she smiles back to you.

Neither of you pull away this time.

You nibble on your lower lip as you can feel there is something in the air.

“I’ve never seen you in this dress.” You can literally feel your mouth water when you look down and catch a glimpse of her exposed chest.

“Natasha and I went shopping after you left. She said you’d like this,” Wanda murmurs softly under her breath, her voice barely audible, “do you like it?”

Oh boy Natasha really knows you.

You can only nod as your breath is coming in short bursts, your chest heaving.

Maybe you do not need to wait until the party after all.

Maybe this is the time.

You swallow hard and lean in closer to Wanda tentatively. You are surprised to find her squeezing her eyes shut, her head still tilting ever so slightly as if she is expecting you to press a kiss on her lips. You hold your breath as your hand reaches out to cup her cheek and close the distance between your lips－

A loud bang coming from the hall makes both of you jump and pull away in sync.

“Sorry!” You hear someone shouting an indistinct apology across the door the next moment.

“Uh we should-um…we-we should get going,” Wanda is barely able to stammer out the words.

“Yeah…yeah we should-right,” you gesture to the bathroom flusteredly, “I just uh-I mean I need to…”

Wanda nods absently and you flee and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“Fuck…” You sigh heavily against the door.

//

You arrive at the party with Wanda and you exclaim inwardly at the size and the decorations of this whole thing. After all these years, you are still wondering whether it is normal for a college student to have such a big party.

As always, a Stark party is an absolute blast. You have so much fun watching all of your friends who are now supposed to be in their late twenties acting like a reckless teenage boy and girl.

And most importantly of course, Wanda is by your side this whole time.

Wanda looks gorgeous tonight.

You can tell there are a lot of people realizing this the moment Wanda steps into the room together with you, judging by the amount of lingering glances in her direction.

Especially the intense gaze from Vision.

You can feel the possessiveness boil inside you, and you cannot help but to snake an arm around Wanda’s waist, silently pulling her closer until she is in your arms, your bodies touching each other.

Wanda lets out a quick gasp in the middle of her sentences and she turns around to look at you. You meet her gaze without saying anything, secretly tightening your grip on her waist. You raise your brows in a silent question, and Wanda just bites on her lower lips, smiling and shaking her head slightly before looking away.

You cannot hide the grin which is pulling at the corners of your mouth when Wanda turns down invitations to join people at the dance floor.

It is indeed a wonderful night.

Everything is perfect.

The party livens up to another level once people begin to request their songs from the DJ, most of them enjoying themselves on the dance floor already.

You finally pluck up the courage for what is coming up after having a drink or two. Or three anyway.

“Would you excuse me?” You smile apologetically at your friends, your hand finally leaves Wanda’s waist for the first time.

And you already miss the heat from her body.

Wanda shoots you a questioning look and you lean closer and whisper softly in her ears, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You place a soft kiss on her cheek before pulling away from her and walking to the DJ.

//

“Do you think Y/N is acting a bit weird the whole day?” Natasha asks as Y/N walks away.

“Yea…” Wanda narrows her eyes and tilts her head as she stares at Y/N’s back, “Nat, do you remember the necklace I showed you a few days ago?”

“Hm…You said you’re going to save up for it,” Natasha nods in reply, both of them still looking in Y/N’s direction, “what about it? ”

Wanda hesitates for a brief moment before muttering embarrassingly, “I mean I know it’s not right to do so, but Y/N’s bag fell on the ground when she’s using the bathroom and I caught a glimpse of what’s inside－”

“Don’t tell me she got the necklace!” Natasha finally snaps her gaze from Y/N and stares at Wanda in wide-eyed amazement.

“Shh!” Wanda rests her hand on Natasha’s elbow with the slightest pressure to ask her to lower her voice, “I mean yea…I saw that in her bag.”

“Have you ever told her you like the necklace?” Natasha asks Wanda curiously.

“No! I’ve only mentioned it to you! Have you?”

“No!” Wanda casts a suspicious glance at Natasha and Natasha holds both of her hands up in the air, “I swear I’ve never told her before! Oh my God Wanda! Do you think Y/N’s gonna…?” Natasha smirks looking at Wanda with her brows raised.

“I dunno Nat…I really don't. But uh-we-um I mean we…almost kissed back in my room.” Wanda chews on her lower lips, feeling her cheeks flush red at the memory of what happened a few hours ago.

“W-what!?” Natasha exclaims loudly, drawing the attention from people around them.

“Nat!” Wanda hushes Natasha with a glare.

“I can’t believe this!” Natasha whispers under her breath.

“Me neither! I-I mean Y/N never said anything before. What if she’s just messing with me? Like asking me out, buying the necklace all of a sudden? That’s just insane.” Wanda frowns, a worried expression on her face.

“Wanda honey, no one's gonna spend that money just to mess with you.” Natasha looks squarely into Wanda’s eyes, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“What if it’s not for me?”

“What if it’s for you?” Natasha nudges Wanda’s elbow and stops whatever she is going to say as Y/N walks towards them, “think about it Wanda.”

//

You pass the note to the DJ and he stares at you in wide-eyed surprise once he glances down at the paper in his hand. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”

“No…I’m very serious about it.” You look at him with pleading eyes.

“No sweetie, I'm not playing this song at the party. I don't wanna lose my job.” The DJ shakes his head disapprovingly, shoving the note into his pocket.

“Please! I've lost her once and I know I have to tell her that I love her this time. The old and classic song is kinda our thing. So please just help me with this one.” You slip a tip into his hand and reassure him, “I’ll tell Tony this is my idea and you're just forced to do so. Please.”

He stares at you for several seconds before shoving the money into his pocket and mutters in defeat, “you'd better tell him.”

You beam a warm smile at him before putting the velvet box next to him. “I'll come back for it after the song! Thank you so much!”

//

You have just made your way back to Wanda when the intro of the song starts to play in the air.

You hear people around you all moaning and groaning in disbelief as they gradually figure out the song.

“Don’t tell me－” Wanda turns around and widens her eyes to stare at you in disbelief.

“Well you know me.” A mischievous grin graces your face.

Wanda groans under her breath, rolling her eyes at you. Though you can still see the hint of a playful smile at the corner of her mouth.

“So…” You take the solo cup from her hand and set it on the counter next to you, “would you like to dance with me?”

“Nobody is dancing to this song!” Wanda looks around the hall and her embarrassment is evident in her flushed cheeks.

“Then we’ll be the first one.” You let out a soft chuckle as you take her hand and pull her into the center of the dance floor, pretty sure everybody is staring at both of you now.

“This is so embarrassing!”

“Just ignore them.” You speak ever so softly in Wanda’s ears as she hides her head in the crook of your neck.

You let the rhythm lead your movements, your bodies sway in unison with the music. People are talking out loud around you, but when you hold Wanda close to you, there is something about her…like a magic that drowns out the crowd.

It just feels like it is Wanda and you.

If this is a dream, it is a dream that you never want to end.

“Wanda…”

“Hm?” Wanda hums idly.

“Is this real?” You ask hesitantly, “are you real?”

Wanda’s chuckle muffled by your own skin, her fingertips grazing the back of your neck gently, “of course I’m. What is this question?”

You do not say anything but your grip on her waist becomes a little more firm, silently pulling her closer to your chest. To get her as close to you as possible. Both physically and emotionally.

You can feel Wanda’s breath warm on your neck and it makes you shiver, her locks tickling your cheeks and neck, the coldness of her fingers brushing over your skin and the air is fragrant with the faint scent of an earthy perfume.

Every sense of yours is overwhelmed by Wanda. Yet somehow you still want more.

“I thought you didn't like the song.” You smile at how adorable Wanda’s voice sounds as she hums the lyrics along with the melody.

“I didn’t say that.” Even though Wanda is still hiding her head in the crook of your neck, you can somehow imagine her grinning playfully while retorting you, “but do remind me again, how old is this song?”

“Don’t judge ok? It’s my personal favourite－”

“Again? I thought your personal favourite was our song.” Wanda tries to pull a face, which she fails terribly, as she jests playfully.

“Well that…is my all time favourite. But this is my favourite tonight.” You pause and pull away slightly, taking in every detail of Wanda’s appearance before speaking softly again, “it just came to my mind when I saw you in this dress earlier today. You…you look so beautiful in red.”

Wanda scrutinizes your face, neither of you breaking your gaze until you catch Wanda drawing her lower lip between her teeth, her mouth curving into a smile and mumbles, “thank you.”

The shy smile on Wanda’s face makes your heart skip a beat.

You cannot help yourself but blurt out, “I wish our song never ends.”

“Me neither.” Leaning her forehead against yours, Wanda whispers ever so softly as she drapes her arms over your shoulder, “but since when this has become our song? I thought it’s never let her slip away.”

“It’s our song now. We can make a playlist and listen to them as we grow old together.” Your cannot help but smile at the thought of Wanda and you sitting on the front porch, basking in the warm sunlight while listening to the old and classic songs.

“Yea we can have a big house or maybe keep a dog and a cat.” Wanda giggles in delight as she continues to speak, “hm…let’s call the dog Kitty and name the cat Goose.”

“I’ll make you coffee every morning and we can watch them play together.”

“And I’ll warm your bed every night?” Wanda lets out a soft chuckle as she jokes, arching her brows playfully at you.

“Will you?”

Boring into Wanda, you can see the smug smirk disappears gradually on her face. Your chest heaving when you hear Wanda ask under her breath－

“Do you mean what I’m thinking right now?”

You are going to reply when the outro fades out. Wanda’s fingers brush over your skin as she pulls away, “I-I guess there is always an end afteral－”

Without saying a word, you tighten your grip on Wanda’s waist. “It doesn’t have to be.”

There is something in the air. Again.

This is really the time.

You lost your shot in the past and Wanda was marrying someone else. You are not going to screw this one…this time.

“Wait a second. I have something for you. Just don’t-don’t move! I’ll be right back!”

You sprint to the DJ and grab the box, shouting a “thank you” to him before scurrying back to Wanda in the center of the dance pool.

“Wanda, I-I've been thinking about this for so long…much longer than you can ever imagine. I thought I had lost my chance with you once but I dunno why and how…somehow I’m granted another chance.”

Wanda's eyes seem to widen in anticipation and uncertainty at your next action.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice more and more people surrounding both of you, gossiping in wild enthusiasm.

“I-I hope you'd like this.” Slowly and carefully, you open the velvet box in your hand. Your eyes bore into Wanda, not wanting to miss any reaction on her face.

You hear Wanda’s breath hitch.

But the look on her face…is not exactly what you imagined when you bought her the necklace.

Wanda seems to be…embarrassed, if not disappointed when she looks into your eyes. She has her brows snapped together and her mouth tightened into a thin line. “Are you serious?”

You are baffled as to why Wanda acts like this, struggling with what you should say.

“Of-of course I’m!” You finally manage to stutter a reply.

Didn’t Wanda like this necklace? Did you remember it wrongly and get a wrong one for her?

But you can tell something is off. There is something more than getting the wrong necklace for Wanda. You can hear people bursting into laughter around you, yet not in the usual way when someone is confessing.

People are laughing like they are－mocking and taunting you.

There is even a camera flash going off from behind the crowd.

Out of pure instinct, you look down at the box and your face burns with embarrassment the moment you take a glimpse of what is inside.

It is a fucking vibrator.

“Wh-what? No! It’s not that－” You close the box in an instant, desperately trying to explain yourself, “no! Wanda I swear that’s not what I’ve－”

“Whoa Y/N! A vibrator!” Someone shouts from the crowd and everyone bursts into laughter again. “Are you going to propose with a vibrator?”

Your mind is still reeling from the shock. From everything.

What the fuck is this?

Where is your necklace?

Why is there a vibrator in the box?

What happened?

Wanda does not say anything though. Instead, she just glares at something behind you silently. You frown, turning around to see Jessie approaching you.

You are going to ignore her and turn back to Wanda when something catches your eyes－

The necklace on Jessie’s neck.

It is exactly the one you bought a few hours ago. It is exactly the one which should be laying in the box instead of that stupid vibrator.

You cannot tell me it is just a fucking coincidence.

“Jessie－”

You are still trying to figure this shit out when Jeissie stops right in front of you, speaking with a voice that is barely able for the three of you to listen, “thank you for the necklace.”

And the next moment, she cups your face and leans forward to press a kiss on your lips.

For a split second, you stand in shocked silence.

What the fuck?

You push Jessie away the moment you come to yourself again.

Hate wells up inside you as everything comes to your mind. It must be her.

“Go fuck yourself with this,” you say through gritted teeth as you wipe your lips with the back of your hand and shove the vibrator back into her hand. “And give me back the necklace.”

“I think it’ll look better on me. Don’t you think honey?” Instead of walking back, Jessie takes a step closer to you.

It takes you everything to suppress the urge to strangle her to death.

“You think that’s funny? Give it back to me now or I’ll call the cops.” Your irritation flares uncontrollably every second you talk to her.

Jessie pouts as she takes the necklace off, but it is when you catch a wicked glint in her eyes.

You turn around.

Only to find Wanda already gone.

PS: I’m sorry if you’re called Jessie. It’s just a random name coming up in my mind.

Tag:

@xxromanoffxx @username23345 @imdumbhi @reereeineedtopee @justyourwritter69 @cristin-rjd @when-wolves-howl @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hoeforwandanat

[newyearsdayjob]

I am in dire need of more mabifica fics under these requirements:

its good (duh)

over 5k words although the longer the better

NO BILLDIP PLEASE GOD NO PLEASE

got recommendations?

*flips hair* Besides mine? hmmmmm...jk jk I will HOOK YOU UP. Per your specifications some of my favs are:

Stargaze by mintyleaves (slightly nsfw just fyi)

Summer Reunion by Coniferoussiblings

First Imprint by MechaMax

Sharing Heat also by Coniferoussiblings (this one is nsfw just fyi)

After the Summer by rastaorange

A Forest Full of Pines by sunkelles

That's what I got! lol. I have a lot more recs that are shorter, but there aren't a lot of mega long fics that you could lose yourself in for days...I mean there's at least one I can think of... jk jk

Thanks for the ask btw! Love talking about my favorite ship

[lazywonderlvnd]

*hesitantly steps in the box* Umm.. soo.. I was listening to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift again and that song (is awesome btw if you haven't listened to it already) just gives me such MAJOR drarry vibes .. like -

" And I screamed, 'for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?' He looks up grinning like a devil. "

Like if that's not drarry I'd chomp my pillows. So .. *twiddling thumbs* could you pls write something with that line as a prompt?? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ maybe use the song as inspiration.. idk? Whatever you like. ALSO, don't forget I STILL LOVE YOU that ain't changing yet and you haven't seen the last of me! Imma tail after you for eternity and you better take that as the threat it is! *throws love at you* BYE!! ❤️❤️ *vaults outside the box*

my sweetest most loved angel!! thank u so much for this prompt based on a BOP i was obsessed w when the album first came out. it got sm longer than it was meant to be, so it can be found on ao3 as well!! i hope u like it ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️

warnings for minor drug use (weed) and implied suicide of a minor character (lucius, extremely vague reference but pls be aware!)

rating: e word count: ~5k

When Pansy asked him how it started, Draco discovered that he didn’t know what to tell her.

Technically, though, it had started at Ernie Macmillan’s party in the beginning of summer, with the cloying scent of Freesias and Freedom Roses (“Imported from the States,” Ernie told Draco pompously, when he asked) and all those string-lights dangling from the cedar pergola, perennial balls of fire inside their clear bubbles like tiny trapped suns. Cheap beer in plastic cups, Marlboro cigarettes, and some stupid Muggle game ... darts.

Technically.  

* * * 

“Get off me, Potter,” Draco says in a failed whisper. He’s laughing and drunk and fuzzy warm under a sprawling summer’s night sky that looks like black paint. Potter tastes like Guinness every time he kisses him, and his hands are surprisingly soft. In direct opposition to his own command he pulls Potter in by the face and glues their mouths back together ravenously. The alcohol makes him sloppy (he likes it, though — the sloppiness of it) and Potter’s skin is warm where Draco slides his hand under an ugly Muggle band T-shirt to touch. 

Around the corner, he can hear music coming from the patio where nearly every single one of their former classmates are gathered, drinking and laughing and getting along famously with a much-needed buffer of five years between them and their Hogwarts days.

Much-needed for himself and Potter as well. Apparently.

He sees him sometimes, at get-togethers like this or around the Ministry, once or twice at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend. They’re always cordial. He hasn’t insulted Potter to his face in five years.

Except for tonight, when he couldn’t help himself loudly drawing attention to the similarities between Potter’s hair and one of the shrubs in the garden. But they’re kissing now round the side of the house and because of that he’s quite glad for his slip. And it’s their five-year reunion, so. What would it be without some bickering between the two of them?

Potter presses him into the bricks and snogs him breathless, only he keeps grinning and laughing and ruining everything just when Draco starts losing himself in it.

“Quit laughing,” he scolds him. “You’re the worst, Potter. No etiquette at all.”

“That’s rude,” Potter says. His breath wafts across Draco’s mouth. His eyes are excessively green behind their round frames, which have not changed since their school days. The scar is mostly hidden beneath his wild fringe, save for the very bottom where it slashes neatly through a dark eyebrow and touches his eyelid. “I can’t help it, I’m pissed good and proper.”

His hand moves to Draco’s hip and even through the thickness of the alcohol coating his brain like a muffler he feels that touch clear and ripe as daybreak.

“So  that’s  why you’ve decided to snog me rather than …” He waves a hand vaguely, in lieu of the proper witticism with which he might normally have trounced Potter. “You know. Beat me to a pulp.”

“I only did that one time,” Potter says, grinning. Grinning and moving his thumb in circles on Draco’s hip. “And it was because you were being a twat. And I didn’t beat you to a pulp. You’re so dramatic.”

“Semantics,” Draco says. “I had a bloody nose.”

“And you deserved it.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

Potter kisses him again.

Guinness and Freesias.

* * * 

“Macmillan’s party,” he told Pansy. “He kissed me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to.” She looked smug. Her inch-long nails were sharpened to a point and painted a glossy black, and she drummed them against her cheek, the way a cat flicks its tail. “I’m surprised you kept it from me this whole time.”

“Well,” said Draco, lowering his gaze to his glass of wine and watching it flirt dangerously with the lip as he swirled it. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “We snuck around.”

Right, maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly conflicted.

“Oh?” For a single syllable the laughter underneath was remarkably transparent.

He looked up, eyebrows lifted. “Yes,” he said a little defensively. “For obvious reasons. At first it was just sex. A lot of it, so he usually came here. Apparently Granger and the Weasel are notorious for popping round his place unexpectedly.”

* * *

He feels opened up all over again every time Potter fucks into him, unhurried and so careful. His hand is hot on Draco’s thigh, both of them sticky with sweat and come. This has to be their third round at least, and Draco’s sluggish brain insists it might actually be four.

An open window lets in the late afternoon air, humid and drowsy and perfumed heavily with flowers (a la Macmillan, Draco planted Freesias and Freedom Roses outside his bedroom window and helped them along to full bloom with some careful magic). Potter’s hair is damp with sweat — from exertion and the relentless heat of July — and Draco slides his fingers into it, tangles them and pulls the way he’s learned Potter likes. If he’s honest, he’s harboured a very secret and  very  desperate yearning to touch Potter’s hair since he was quite young. He doesn’t know why.

Well, maybe he knows why.

Potter makes a quiet, whimpered noise that curls Draco’s toes. He speeds up his hips, closing in on his orgasm and putting his face in Draco’s neck even though it’s too fucking hot for it.

“Fuck,” Draco whines. He tries to lift his leg higher, wrap it around Potter’s waist to get that perfect angle, but they’re too slick with sweat and he lets out a frustrated noise when it falls back to the bed. “Potter,” he says helplessly, arching into each thrust and shaking with the effort. This third (fourth?) orgasm is building too slowly, sitting there hard and stubborn and heavy in his gut and refusing to be coaxed to completion. He’s dripping with the effort, muscles quivering. “Please — I need —”

But he seems to have figured it out for himself. He scoots forward, lifting Draco’s arse higher off the bed and bending him nearly in half. The angle helps him go deeper and he’s suddenly nudging Draco’s oversensitive prostate every time he fucks back in.

“Right there,” Draco gasps, tensing as this new angle lights a fire under his elusive orgasm. His cock is leaking but he doesn’t have the strength or energy to get a hand around it. Potter’s grunting with the effort of fucking him, sweat dripping down his temples and making his neck and torso gleam. “Right there, god, right there, please, I’m so close —”

Potter braces himself and redoubles his efforts, and it’s like he’s reached inside Draco and sunk his claws into that building storm in his belly because suddenly it’s ripped right out of him in a colossal wave of euphoria that approaches too much, cock spurting untouched between them  .  Potter keeps moving inside him while he rides it out, and at some point he feels the warm, wet explosion of Potter emptying in him, mumbling incoherent things that include Draco’s name.

They come down together too. Draco is clutching Potter’s arms and trying to catch his breath and Potter is trembling and clutching him back like an anchor in a veritable ocean of sensation. 

It’s like this every time. 

When Potter drops down onto the bed beside him Draco rolls over and kisses him, long and deep and satisfying, and Potter reciprocates with the kind of intensity that is completely unique to him as a person.

“That one was particularly good,” says Potter, and Draco laughs.

When he feels like moving, he knows that Potter will get up and go to Draco’s kitchen and make tea for both of them, and he won’t need to ask what Draco likes, because he remembered after the first time. They’ll drink it naked in bed as the sun sets on another endless summer day and transforms before their eyes into a humid and pungent summer night, in the midst of which they will fuck at least three more times, and Potter will keep smelling like sweat and bergamot and boy, and Draco will keep feeling starved for him.

And they won’t talk about it.

* * *

“And?” Pansy said.

“And what?”

“You said ‘at first,’” she pointed out, and arched a groomed eyebrow. “When did it turn into more than just sex?”

Draco tamped down on a smile, because that would have been more emotion than he cared to show at the moment. To Pansy or to himself.

He swirled his wine again and took a long sip, stalling. He wanted — needed, really — to talk this out with her, but he was becoming aware of an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest which was suggesting to him that he didn’t want to share everything. Not because he was embarrassed, but, well … it was private. It was between him and Harry.

“There was this one night he came over later than he was supposed to because of work,” Draco said. The memory stirred some emotion. He hadn’t thought of it in a while. “He had this bloody huge takeout bag of Thai food.”

 * * *

He sets it down on Draco’s desk, takes out a container, and after toeing off his shoes drops sideways onto Draco’s bed with it and uses chopsticks to shovel in a mouthful of noodles. Draco watches this in awe.

“Want some?” Harry asks once he’s swallowed (small blessings). There’s grease around his mouth. “There’s a million other things in the bag but you have to get it yourself. I’m dead tired.”

Draco thinks of asking what the hell is going on, because they’re supposed to be fucking by now, but something stops him. Harry really does look exhausted but quite content eating his Thai food on Draco’s bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it or remind him that they’re fuck buddies, not friends, and that if he’d wanted to eat and lounge about perhaps he should’ve stayed at home.

And the food really does smell good.

He gets up and fishes another container out of the bag that turns out to be some sort of heavenly-smelling marinated beef, which he brings back to the bed. Harry’s rolled onto his back and has the container of noodles balanced on his stomach.

“They thought they found a Horcrux on a raid,” he says. His voice is perfectly casual, but Draco thinks he can see something troubled in his eyes. He has one foot crossed over the other and  it’s bouncing anxiously; he doesn’t think Harry’s aware of doing it. “Wasn’t. Obviously.” 

“But they needed your expert advice to be sure.”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at him, then his food. “Is that the beef?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

He opens the container and chooses a piece, but instead of lifting it to his mouth he follows some crazy impulse and hovers it over Harry’s instead.

“Open, Scarhead,” he says. Harry blinks but does it, and Draco drops it in. He smiles, then chews.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

“We ate it instead of fucking. It was the first time I realised something had shifted.”

“And you let it shift?”

The question gave him pause. He didn’t answer right away, mulling it over. It made it sound as if he’d had a choice, and that wasn’t quite right.

“It already had,” he said finally. “It wasn’t a matter of letting it; by the time I noticed, it had already happened. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come over with the food.”

“But you did let it continue,” said Pansy. She wasn’t antagonising him, nor accusing him of anything. She looked amused, but not in a way that was at his expense. Pansy was both a twat and a fiercely good friend, the combination of which meant she would do nothing more or less than hold up a mirror and force you to look at yourself, gruesome as the experience inevitably wound up being. “Even after you realised he had feelings for you.”

Draco swallowed. He’d not heard it said aloud before now.

“Yes,” he said. “It felt good. Knowing he fancied me.”

* * *

Harry’s shameless in his staring.

He stands in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom and watches Draco like he’s been invited to do so. Draco pretends not to notice, stretched out in a tub full of bubbles facing the opposite way. There’s incense burning, and candles. Harry is completely silent, but Draco could feel those eyes on him from across a crowded hall.

They fucked a few hours ago and fell asleep afterwards. Draco pretended not to think about it, but had actually made the conscious decision to let Harry continue sleeping when he woke up and decided he wanted a bath.

When he can’t take it anymore he opens his eyes and tilts his head back and a little to the side, just enough that he gets Potter in his peripherals.

“Well?” he says. 

“Well what?”

“Join me, won’t you?”

Harry snorts. Then there’s a quiver of magic in the air, and a small, utilitarian chair appears out of thin air beside the tub. Harry sits down in it. He’s holding the joint they’d only gotten halfway through earlier. 

He’s in his jeans and nothing else, all limbs and sparse chest hair, and when he crosses a leg over the other one, elbow resting on his knee as he hits the joint, Draco feels a bone-deep attraction to him that’s beyond physical.

“May I?” Draco asks. Harry hands it over and Draco inhales deeply before returning it. The humidity of the room mixes with the smoke and the smell of marijuana, pungent and cloying like the flowers. 

After a length of silence, Draco says, “Will you read me something?”

“Will I what?”

He takes his wand from the floor and Summons a book from the shelf in his room — one of his poetry collections comes sweeping in through the cracked door and into Harry’s lap. Harry sticks the joint between his lips and starts rifling through it with his glasses all fogged up. 

When he starts reading Byron (“I had a dream, which was not all a dream”) Draco smiles and sinks deeper into the hot water and bubbles, letting Harry’s voice lull him into a pleasant stupor. 

 * * *

“So you led him on,” said Pansy. “Because you liked his attention.”

He stared at her, then let his gaze drop to his wine again. Had he?

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Well,” she said, smiling wryly, “I’m only saying it as you’ve told it to me. Maybe if it sounds bad, it is bad. Some things are that simple, darling. Unless there’s more to it.”

“Like what?” he said, not looking at her. There was a touch of pouty defiance in his voice he knew Pansy would detect instantly. He heard her sigh.

“What exactly happened yesterday, Draco? You didn’t give me any context.”

“What context do you need?” he muttered. “He told me he loved me.”

* * *

They’ve finished an entire bottle of wine between them. He’s not drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. Harry’s sprawled on his back, T-shirt rucked up just below his navel so Draco can see the dark trail of hair leading below his jeans. There’s something implicitly erotic about the movement of his chest when he breathes, his hands folded behind his head, one leg stretched the length of the bed and the other bent at the knee.

He opens his eyes suddenly and grins when he sees Draco looking at him. 

“That wine just made me tired,” he says.

“So go to sleep,” says Draco. He takes a last swig, emptying it, and sets the bottle aside on his night table. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, yawning widely, thinking perhaps he’ll give into the tempting allure of sleep as well when Harry says, “I told Hermione about us.”

So he’s not sleeping, then. His stomach clenches hard and a completely irrational sense of panic rises in his throat.

“Us?” he says slowly, sitting up straighter. “What ‘us’?”

Harry looks at him upside-down, then rolls over and rises to his knees. He stares at Draco blankly.

“‘What us?’” he repeats.

“Yes,” says Draco. “What ‘us’?”

“Us,” Harry says. His voice is lower than usual. The word is starting to sound weird and lose meaning. “You and me, Draco.”

“‘You and me?’ Harry, there’s no you and me. We’re just fucking. What do you … what do you mean, you told Granger? Told her what?”

Harry looks … well, he looks fucking crushed. And angry. Draco forces himself not to look away.

“I told her I’d been seeing you,” he says quietly. There’s something … not threatening, but close to it, in his voice.

“Sure,” says Draco. “I see you three times a week, sometimes four. I s’pose if you feel the need to fill Granger in on everything you do with every second of your day —”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry says. “You know what I meant.”

Draco glares at him. He gets off the bed, slightly lightheaded from the wine, horrified by the emotions welling up inside him right behind the panic, and he points at his bedroom door.

“Get out,” he says. 

“Are you serious?”

“Go!” he says loudly, voice rising. “If you’re gonna start turning this into something it definitely is not then get out of my flat, Potter.” As usual the window is open, but it’s the third of September and getting chilly finally and Draco’s Freesias and Freedom Roses started wilting last week. There’s a chilly breeze coming into that room that is utterly barren of the sweet smells of summer he associates with Harry these days. “It’s time we ended this anyway,” he says. “Summer’s over.”

“So?” From his position kneeling on Draco’s bed Harry shouldn’t feel imposing at all, but he does. There’s no sparkle of humour in his eyes, none of the softness Draco’s gotten used to seeing there. He looks like someone who’s realised they’ve been betrayed.

Worse than that. Someone who’s been betrayed and realises they should have seen it coming.

“What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of a summer fling, Potter? We’re not ‘seeing each other’.”

Harry finally gets off the bed. Draco’s stomach clenches again, more painfully this time. He doesn’t feel bad, he tells himself — this is Harry’s fault. His fault for making a big deal out of something easy and fun and, most of all, temporary. For ruining this with feelings. 

 “That’s not what this was,” Harry says. It’s not an argumentative tone; rather, he sounds disappointed. Devastated, and disappointed. And that look of betrayal, like he’s surprised but not …  that  surprised.

That hurts. 

“This was as real as it gets, Draco,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and I don’t have the capability of doing anything as shallow as a fling.”

“Well, Potter,” says Draco, straining to maintain his level voice, “congratulations, because that is the most disgusting, romanticised, Gryffindorian piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?” He grabs up his wand from the bedside table and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. “Well here’s another: I love you. You complete fucking prick.”

Draco stares after him as he leaves the room, cowed for the moment. He hears Harry take the Floo powder off his mantle, hears the fire start, and then the sound of Potter disappearing. 

And he feels hollow suddenly.

* * *

“And he said it completely out of the blue?” 

Draco set his wine aside. He was suddenly feeling too sick to put anything else in his body.

“Sort of,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “He was trying to make something out of nothing. He was just making a point, trying to guilt me, I don’t even think he meant it.”

Pansy said nothing for so long that Draco finally looked up. She had an eyebrow raised.

“Do you really believe that?” she said.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the bottle of wine on the table and thought about the way it always tasted a little sweeter on Harry’s lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. It was a summer thing, not a … a relationship, for crying out loud. Like I’d date Potter.”

“Why not?”

Draco scoffed. “Why not? Pansy, please. He’s a …”

“A …?”

“He’s an idiot! He’s Potter!  He’s …” He couldn’t think of the right word, something bad enough to express the audacity, the gall , for Potter to think even for a second  that they could …

“Draco Malfoy,” said Pansy. She was smirking. “You love him too.”

Had he felt sick before?  Now he was going to be sick.

“I never would’ve imagined it,” she went on, seeming to take pleasure from his outrage and humiliation. The bint. “Look at you, you’re blushing! Oh my god,” she laughed. And then she stopped laughing, and instead the weight of her own words appeared to descend on her. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? You are arse over tits for Harry Potter —”

He was up and out of his chair before she’d finished the last word, absurdly,  embarrassingly on the verge of tears all of a sudden. 

“Draco —”

“I’m glad this can serve as your entertainment for the week, Pansy,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek — could he be any more histrionic? — and he brushed it away furiously. 

“Draco, no —”

“Call Blaise, tell him!” he shouted. “You two can have a good laugh over it —”

“Draco  —”

“Poor Draco’s  fucked himself over again, what a stupid wanker!” 

Pansy got up. He slapped her hand away when she reached for him, but she only came at him again and grabbed it this time when he swatted at her, enfolding it in both of hers. He closed his eyes and hiccoughed and two more tears came.

“Darling, will you please listen to me?” she said softly. It sounded eerily like his mother, which only made him feel young and childish. He tugged his arm away and she let him go, but he didn’t move any farther away. “I am  not  laughing at you,” she told him. “Blaise might, but that’s because Blaise has a black hole for a heart, Draco, the only emotion he’s ever felt is disdain.” Against his will, Draco chuckled wetly. Pansy smiled and took his hand again, tentatively. He allowed it. “ I think it’s lovely that you have feelings for him. I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, I mean … I know it’s Potter, but we’re not teenagers anymore, right? Who cares?”

Draco exhaled a long sigh.

“He let my father go to Azkaban,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. He saw comprehension dawning. “How can I be with someone who could’ve saved my father’s life and chose not to, Pansy?”

“No one could have saved your father, Draco,” said Pansy gravely. His throat was tight, swollen. He hated that he was hanging on her words, looking for truth in them,  wanting to hear something that would make this okay. “He would have done the same thing if they’d let him go back to the manor. It’s not your fault or your mum’s or Potter’s.”

“But —”

“But what?” she cut him off sharply. “Draco, please don’t let your father keep controlling your life from the grave! My god, you deserve happiness, don’t you see that? Even if it’s Potter! In fact, I … I think that could be really good.”

“What, being with Potter?”

“Yes, being with Potter,” she said. “Darling, I say this because I love you: you need to grow a pair of bollocks and start taking control of your own life. I’m not finished!” she added when he opened his mouth to retort. “I understand that it feels like a betrayal of your father, I do, and I’m not saying you can’t have your cherished memories of him, but Draco … you cannot live your life in his shadow, doing things because it’s what he’d want or wouldn’t want. I think that choosing to explore these feelings you have for Potter is the bravest and healthiest thing you could possibly do for yourself.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wet though the tears had stopped falling. 

“What if it doesn’t last?” he said finally. “What if next week he realises it was a huge mistake?”

“First of all, I doubt that,” said Pansy with a roll of her eyes that was clearly meant to be teasing. “You said you’ve been seeing him all summer, that’s plenty of time to have gotten sick of you. And, even if that did happen, I still think it would be entirely worth that week of being disgustingly in love.”

“Do you?” he drawled.

“Yes! I do!” She picked up his discarded wine glass from before and held it up. “Does the effect of alcohol last forever?”

“No …”

“Of course not! And we don’t expect it to. We expect to have fun while we’re drunk and it’ll last as long as it lasts.”

“Dating someone isn’t like being drunk, Pansy,” Draco said sourly.

“Oh, that’s not the point ,” she huffed. “We don’t do things because we know they’ll last forever, we do them because we want to. In the moment.”

“Sounds irresponsible.”

“Well, of course it is,” she scoffed. “Love is completely irresponsible, that’s the fun of it, Draco. Now take this,” she shoved the glass of wine into his hand, almost spilling it. “Drink up, and then get your arse over to his flat and fix this.”

* * *

Granger opened the door. Draco sighed.

“Hello, Granger,” he said lamely. Her raised eyebrows said she was surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his appearance.

“Malfoy,” she said.

“Is Potter in?”

“I guess that depends.”

“On?”

She looked at him, dark brown eyes impenetrable. Then she closed the front door behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk to him,” he said tightly. As if this whole thing wasn’t bad enough, now he had to pass a test to get past Granger the bridge troll. “I thought he told you —”

“He did,” she said flatly. “And about yesterday.”

“Well I’m here to apologise,” said Draco. Granger’s eyebrows lifted again. Still unimpressed. “And to tell him …” He sighed again and broke eye contact, willing himself not to give up, not to take this as a sign he should just go home and ream into Pansy for giving him such bad advice.

“Malfoy.” He looked up. Her voice was softer now, and her eyes seemed a little less hard. “What are you doing? You really hurt him, you know.”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “I said I’m here to apologise.”

“Well he doesn’t need an apology,” she said. “If you’re only going to let him down again —”

“I’m not.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at her again, exasperated, defeated. “I’ve … had some sense talked into me.”

She looked like it was the last thing she’d been expecting. 

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he said. “So would you please get him for me before I lose my nerve?”

It was the right thing to say. Her expression melted into something much softer and he fancied he even saw the beginnings of a smile.

“Can I ask who affected this change of heart?”

“Pansy,” he said. And, when Granger seemed taken aback, “She’s very wise when she feels like it.”

“I see. Well …” She still looked a bit conflicted, eyeing him and then putting her hand on the doorknob. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re here, anyway, but he was really hurt, Malfoy. I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Granger eyed him another moment and then went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Draco only had to wait a minute before it was opening again, and this time Harry came out. The sight of him made Draco’s heart feel tender and sore.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Potter.”

He waited to see if Harry would say anything else but he didn’t. He only stared at Draco expectantly, arms folded, in all ways closed off.

“I came to apologise,” said Draco.

“Well you can keep it,” said Harry. “I don’t need an apology because you told me the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth, Potter,” Draco said quietly. “Opposite, really.”

Harry was silent. Then, “You made me feel like shit, Draco.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You freaked me out, springing it on me like that.”

A beat, then two, and then suddenly Harry was dropping his arms and sighing and he looked at Draco with so much vulnerability he nearly had to turn away from it.

“I didn’t mean to tell you …” He licked his lips, scratched his arm. It reminded Draco that beneath everything, Harry was still the same awkward dorky leader-of-the-losers he’d always been, just with a bit more confidence now and the title of Official Saviour of the Wizarding World. “I wouldn’t have said that if … I was just angry.”

He didn’t need to ask what Harry was referring to.

“I know.”

“Not that I didn’t … I mean, I … I do —”

“Please don’t say it again,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Right. I just meant … I really do have feelings for you, Draco. Like … mad, crazy feelings, y’know? I don’t want it to be a fling.”

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said. He moved a little closer and Harry watched him carefully, eyes flickering once down to Draco’s mouth. “I didn’t even sleep with anyone else the whole time.”

“Well that’s good to know,” said Harry sardonically. But he was smiling, so Draco found himself smiling tentatively as well.

“I wanna be with you, Potter. Properly. I thought …” But he shakes his head, deciding that now isn’t the time to explain about his father. “I thought it was a stupid idea. Now I realise that it probably is, but that I don’t really care much. I’ve decided to ignore my better judgment this one time.”

“That’s quite Gryffindor of you,” Harry commented drily.

“Yes, well.”

“So I go against your better judgment, then?”

“Potter,” Draco sighed. “Please, I don’t mean it like —”

“I’m taking the piss, Draco,” Harry cut him off. He reached for Draco’s waist and pulled him close, and before Draco could get his breath back from a short, surprised intake of breath Harry’s mouth was on his, warm and familiar and soothing. He brought his hands to Harry’s face and kissed back without bothering to hide his overwhelming relief.

Harry chased his mouth when he pulled away and Draco breathed out a laugh, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest. 

“We have plenty of time,” he said. “D’you wanna come over later tonight, after your friends leave?”

“What? No, come in.” He took Draco’s hand and gestured with his head towards the door. “Please. It’s just Ron and Hermione. They know everything.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “And you think Weasley won’t try to kill me?”

“I promise not to let him,” Harry grinned. “Please, Draco. You said you wanted to do this properly, right?”

He thought of what Pansy said about being irresponsible, and decided it was worth a try at least.

“Okay,” he said. Harry beamed and tugged him inside.

Towards his ultimate downfall or towards the beginning of the rest of his life, he didn’t know. That, as Pansy would have said, was the fun of it.