#though yeah probably i agree with most of these except chosen

[clarkgriffon]

The Best of the Best: IMDB’s 10 Best Ranked Episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (insp.)

[cuttoothed]

Fic for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt "Healing & Recovery". We've all been saying jmart need a lot of therapy after the finale, so...yeah.

Disclaimer: I have never been to couple's therapy. I have done some reading on it, but this is not intended in any way to accurately reflect real world therapy practices. Please just assume that anything "off" is due to the way couple's therapy is practiced in AU-land (though of course feel free to let me know if you spot anything egregious).

*

“Why don’t you start,” Judith suggests, “By telling me about the incident?”

The two men on the sofa give her identical startled looks, as if she’s uncovered something incriminating. Martin seems to regain his composure first; he clears his throat, and his hand moves to cover Jon’s, unconsciously protective.

“Sorry, wh-what do you mean by “incident”?”

“For most couples who come to see me, there’s an...inciting incident,” Judith explains. “Something that makes them realize they could use some professional support to work through things. Of course any couple can benefit from seeing a therapist together on occasion, to deal with small issues before they become big ones. But, well, it’s the same way that everyone knows they should go for regular check ups with their GP rather than waiting until they actually get sick—it’s just not something most people get around to until they need it.”

She pauses to give them time to consider that, and after a moment Jon nods, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Right,” he says. “That’s, ah, I think that’s fair.”

“There are pretty strong extenuating circumstances, though,” Martin huffs defensively. “We didn’t exactly have the option for therapy in the a—wh-where we lived before.”

“It’s not intended as a criticism,” Judith tells him. “You’ve chosen to talk to a therapist, and that’s a big step—one that many people never take. You’re ahead of the curve, Martin.”

Martin looks mollified at that; he’s clearly a bit touchy about perceived criticisms of their relationship, and Judith doesn’t want to get him on the defensive. She gives them both an encouraging smile.

“So,” she says. “Is there an incident you’d like to talk about?”

The two of them look at each other expectantly, as if each is waiting for the other to start. After several long moments of silence, Jon raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Martin sighs.

“Fine,” he says. “So, we, uh, we recently realized that our...garden was a-a bit of a mess. So we—Jon and I—we get together with our...housemates, to figure out what kind of flowers we should plant. Fuschias or—or hydrangeas. ”

He pauses to glance nervously at Jon, who gives him a reassuring nod, squeezing his hand.

Right, Judith thinks, This is probably not about flowers.

“We agree we all want fuschias,” Martin continues, “Except Jon—he wanted hydrangeas. But we took a vote, and it was fuschias.”

“Except of course most of our—our housemates weren’t there for that meeting,” Jon interjects, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, but we agreed we couldn’t wait to ask every single person,” Martin says sharply, back on the defensive. Jon’s brow furrows and his mouth opens as if to say something, but he changes his mind and shuts it again. Conflict aversion is one of the most common dysfunctions Judith sees in the couples she treats; very few people want to disagree with the person they love, and even fewer know how to have a constructive conflict. She makes a mental note of it for later.

“Go ahead, Martin,’ she suggests gently. Martin looks unhappy, but continues.

“So we agree to plant the fuschias the next day, but Jon—Jon sneaks out in the middle of the night and starts, uh, planting hydrangeas. Without telling anyone.”

Without telling me, Judith hears in his hurt tone. Jon’s arms are still folded, and he’s almost squirming in his seat with the effort to not interject; Judith decides it’s a good time to invite him into the story.

“Jon, why did you feel so strongly about the hydrangeas?”

“It’s—it wasn’t that I wanted hydrangeas, I just couldn’t a-accept the idea of—of fuchsias.”

“Couldn’t allow it, you mean,” Martin grumbles. Judith lets it pass and continues to focus on Jon.

“Why is that?”

“They, uh, they spread…” Jon waves his hands vaguely. “Their—their...roots? They would get into the, uh, the neighbors’ gardens, completely take over, destroy everything.”

“Potentially,” Martin insists. “There was no guarantee—”

“There was no reason they wouldn’t,” Jon snaps.

By now Judith is not only sure that this has nothing to do with gardening, but suspects that neither of these men has ever seen a fuchsia in their lives. It’s fine, though. This is far from the first time a client has invented a story out of whole cloth so they can work through something uncomfortable without actually describing it. And this is their first session; Judith hopes in the future they’ll trust her enough to give her the real story.

“Remember,” she tells them. “We’re not here to decide that someone was objectively right or wrong, we’re here to help you understand each other and improve your communication skills.”

“Right,” Martin mutters, unconvinced. Jon’s expression is distressed, but he continues.

“There was no other choice,” he says wearily. “The only other option was—was azaleas, and I know you didn’t want that, Martin.”

“Absolutely not.” Martin sounds horrified. “But hydrangeas, Jon? Do you really think that was a better option?”

“You have to see the difference.” Jon’s tone goes stiff and incredulous, as if he’s winding up for a lecture, and Judith decides to cut that off before it starts.

“So what I’m hearing,” she says, “Is that you both had very strong, conflicting opinions on this topic. And that’s okay—it’s okay for you to disagree, even on something important. You’re not always going to agree on what the right thing to do is. Often there is no single “right thing,” so it comes down to how the different choices make us feel.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good way to make a decision that affects the wh—a lot of people.” Jon clearly considers that his opinion on not-flowers was the objectively correct one. Judith smiles.

“People aren’t computers, Jon. Even the most logical minded person in the world is influenced by their feelings—about important issues, about other people. You’d be surprised at how much of our decision making is rooted in emotion; either how we anticipate the outcome of our decision will make us feel, or how we are feeling in the immediate moment of the choice.”

A spasm of something that might be grief or pain flashes across Jon’s face, and he leans unconsciously in Martin’s direction. Martin’s arm instantly goes around him, offering comfort without thought. It’s clear that these two love each other deeply, unquestioningly—and that’s also part of the problem. When someone you love thinks that you’re wrong about something that’s important to you, it can feel like a rejection of your entire self.

“I’d like to pause this discussion for now, and try a little exercise,” she says. Jon nods, sitting back up and disengaging from Martin’s embrace; Martin looks attentively at her, though his expression is unsure.

“One of the biggest challenges we face with people we love is recognizing that they are separate from us. I know—” she says, raising her hands to stop the objections she can already see forming on their lips. “Of course you know that you’re separate people. We all know that, rationally. But emotionally, it’s natural to see the people you’re close to as extensions of yourself—it’s an evolutionary impulse to aid group bonding. It happens with friends and family, and it’s an even stronger impulse between partners.

“We have to do a lot of work to truly internalize the idea that the people we love have their own inner emotional lives that drive their opinions and decisions. But once you are able to fully grasp that truth, it makes disagreeing with the person you love feel less emotionally fraught; it’s a powerful tool for navigating conflict constructively.”

Jon is frowning, but it’s in consideration rather than disapproval. Martin still looks skeptical, his body language defensive, though he doesn’t say anything. That’s probably the best she’s going to get for now, Judith thinks.

“So,” she says. “The exercise is this: I’d like each of you to take a few moments to think, and then tell the other person something about yourself. Not a fact, but something that you feel. And I would like you to listen without interrupting when your partner tells you their feeling. Can you each do that?”

“I, ah—” Jon’s frown deepens. “That’s...rather difficult to do on demand.”

“I know,” says Judith with sympathy. “That’s why I’m here, to support you both in doing the difficult things. If it was easy, you wouldn’t need a therapist to facilitate.”

“Right,” says Jon. “Okay.”

“Martin?”

“Fine,” he says, but his tone is reluctant. Judith gets it; vulnerability is hard enough in front of someone you love, never mind with a stranger in the room. It’s easier to pretend that it’s pointless, that you’re not really putting yourself out there to be hurt. She has the feeling that Martin is someone who would rather avoid being hurt, even if it means closing himself off.

“All right,” she says. “When you’re ready, Jon, would you mind going first? No rush, take all the time you need.” Hopefully, seeing Jon take the first step might help Martin get over some of his defensiveness.

“Oh,” he says, and for a few moments his expression devolves into one of intense concentration. Then he nods, turning towards Martin.

“Start with “I feel”,” Judith suggests.

“All right,” he says, breathless with nerves. “I, uh, I feel...responsible. For—well, for everything, basically. And for everyone. Bad things have happened to people, and it’s my fault, because I should have done something. Everything that happened, back there, it was all because of me.”

“It wasn’t you, Jon!” Martin protests. “Annabelle told us—”

Judith is about to remind him that he’s supposed to just be listening, but he cuts himself off first. Jon laughs, an ugly sound that’s more like a sob.

“And how is that supposed to help? Knowing that the—that they were using me my whole life, how does that absolve me of any responsibility for what I did? For the fact that I failed to do anything to stop them? I couldn’t even go through with the one thing that could have actually meant something, because—”

He clamps his mouth shut, his jaw locked tight; Martin looks down at his hands, his expression distraught.

“Because of me.”

“Martin—” Jon’s tone is wounded, and he reaches for Martin’s hand. Judith sees reflections of a shared pain in both their faces, though she doesn’t understand why; this would be a lot easier if they’d just tell her the truth.

But you didn’t get into this profession because it was easy, did you?

“Thank you for sharing that, Jon. I think there’s a lot more for us to explore there, but let’s give you a break and give Martin a chance to share, okay?”

Jon nods, clutching Martin’s hand in his. Martin gives a long, slow exhale.

“Righto,” he says with false, brittle cheer. “”I feel,” wasn’t it? Right. Jon, when you do something stupidly self-sacrificing for other people, I feel like everyone else is more important than me.”

Jon flinches.

“Martin,” Judith says, keeping her tone level. “Let’s keep the focus on what you feel, not on what causes you to feel that way, okay?”

“Right,” Martin mutters, and glances at Jon. “Okay. In that case, I feel...like I’m not important. Like the only thing I can really do is—is take care of you. And if I can’t even do that, then what bloody use am I? That’s it, I suppose.”

“Martin…” Jon says again, softly. His eyes are wet, and he’s clinging to Martin’s hand like a drowning man to a plank. Martin swallows hard and shakes his head, but he makes no move to extract his hand from Jon’s grip.

“Thank you, Martin,” Judith tells him. “I know that wasn’t easy to share, for either of you. But this is the kind of honesty that we need, in order to build strong communication. Let’s all take five minutes—if either of you want to take a bathroom break, or get some water—and then we can talk about where to go from here. All right?”

Martin disappears to the loo, while Jon wanders around the office, looking with polite interest at the shelves of books and ornaments. Judith writes a few notes for herself, to follow up in future sessions. She hopes there’ll be future sessions. Both of these men seem deeply hurt, traumatized by events that they’re just barely alluding to, and have clearly been struggling through as best they can with less than ideal coping mechanisms, trying—and likely failing—not to hurt each other in the process. They both need individual counselling as much as couples’ therapy—maybe more. She’s certainly going to recommend it..

They clearly love each other, though. And they want to make it work. If they’re willing to put the effort in, they have better than even odds in their favor.

Martin’s eyes are red-rimmed when he returns; he sits on the sofa as near as he can to Jon, who presses their shoulders together. Judith can’t help smiling at the sight.

“How long have the two of you been together?” she asks. She always asks new clients at the end of the first session, rather than at the beginning; that way she can get a feel for the relationship without preconceptions based on longevity. The two of them look at each other properly, for the first time since Martin came back in, and matching, sheepish smiles break out on both their faces after a moment.

“So it was three weeks in Scotland,” Martin begins, ticking it off on his fingers. “And then—how long?”

“Uhh, it’s...let’s say half a year, give or take?” Jon makes a face that says he’s really not all that sure.

“Right, and then we’ve been here nearly six months. So...about a year, all in all?”

“But we knew each other for over three years before that,” Jon insists earnestly.

“It sounds as if the two of you have been through a lot,” says Judith. “And not all of it gardening related?”

“No,” Jon says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Mostly not.”

“We barely scratched the surface today—and that’s normal. Relationships are complicated, and it takes a lot of time and hard work to build understanding and communication. But I promise you, it is worth all the effort. You both made a really strong start today—it takes courage to be that honest, even with your partner.”

The two of them give each other a long look, and the smile they trade is tentative, but genuine. They haven’t solved anything today, have only just begun to reveal their hurt and their insecurities; they have a long journey ahead to get to a truly honest, healthy place both for themselves and their relationship. Judith has a feeling they’ll persevere, though—that losing each other simply isn’t an option.

“So,” she says, “Should we make this a recurring appointment?”

Jon glances questioningly at Martin, who bites his lip and then nods firmly, taking Jon’s hand in his.

“Yeah,” Martin says. “We’ve done much harder things. We can do this.”

“Together?” says Jon, and Martin smiles.

“No matter what.”

[strawberry-fields-things]

▸ SIMPLER SOLUTIONS

pairing: platonic!htmf!techno x fem!reader ; platonic!htmf!tommy x fem! reader

series masterlist | event guidelines | event masterlist

PROMPT: #5: letting them braid your hair.

TIMELINE: set somewhere between the events of chapter 1 and chapter 2

WORD COUNT: i’ll add it tomorrow though it’s probably 2k-ish

NOTE: this one goes to you 🌟 anon <3

Your phone strikes eleven when you wake up.

The blue light makes you narrow your eyes, e/c still tired with the sands of sleep. Some might say eleven pm is a strange time to be waking up at— and, sure, you agree. Except today you had collapsed onto your bed at five in the afternoon, so having a full six hours of sleep is the most you’ve gotten all week.

Yeah, you’ve got an unhealthy sleep schedule, sue me. It’s one of the consequences of being a part-time college student and a part-time vigilante.

You find it odd that neither of your siblings had chosen to wake you up for patrol— or just, y’know, wake you up by accident. After all, it’s a Friday, you would’ve expected them to—

Oh.

You stare at your screen with furrowed brows.

Not Friday. Saturday.

You straighten, now sitting with crisscrossed legs. You rub your eyes awake with the palm of your hand, sight still bleary.

Just how long have you been asleep?

You blink once. Twice. Your limbs still feel sore, your eyes hurt, your mouth feels dry, and your body feels —to put it simply— overall uncomfortable.

This is why you don’t take naps to begin with.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the mixed sensation of hot and cold from your body— to no avail. With an exhale, you move aside your covers and stand up, stretching your limbs.

You’re not gonna be able to fall asleep now that you’re awake. Might as well do something, right?

You open your door, careful not to wake Wilbur, who is known to be a light sleeper — and that also happens to share a wall with you.

( If he even is in his room right now— which odds are that he isn’t. )

Your hand is reaching for the railing, already heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water when you catch a glimpse of a shifting shadow.

It’s minuscule, barely even noticeable, but it’s enough to make you do a double take. As it happens, there is no shadow— rather, a bathroom light that someone forgot to turn off.

You exhale tiredly— after all, you’ve had the same conversation with Tommy one too many times. ‘Cause the kid doesn’t seem to grasp the concept that, yes, he can turn on a lightbulb with his powers, but the electric company will still charge them if he doesn’t turn it off.

Your steps are clumsy when you reach the bathroom, hand already on the light switch, when your e/c eyes are met with a pair of brown.

You furrow your brows. “Techno?” You begin as soon as his presence registers in your weary mind. “What’re you doing—” Your eyes flick down to his hands, to his gaze, and then back to his hands. “…With a knife. In our bathroom. In the middle of the night?”

You can tell he only recently got out of his gear, meaning he has yet to go to sleep for the night. You lean against the door frame, watching as he bites down a comb while bringing one of his blades closer to a handful of pink hair.

He meets your gaze evenly before he goes back to staring at the mirror. “I’m cuttin’ my hair.”

Those four mumbled words are enough to wake you up, and it even takes you a few minutes to figure out if he’s being serious. “You know we own scissors.” You state, watching as he adjust his grip on his dagger. He merely raises an unimpressed brow. “Or you could wait until tomorrow? Y’know, when you’re not tired and making impulsive decisions you’ll regret in the morning?”

He shakes his head, comb still between his teeth. “I can’t stand it.”

“Stand what?”

He sets the comb down on the sink. “My hair.” Techno states, jaw ticking. “It’s always gettin’ on my face and it’s past the point of being a mild annoyance.”

Your eyes subconsciously drift to his pink hair. It is long— for his standards, at least. You bite the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips. “But I like your hair.” A humorless scoff escapes Techno’s lips. “Alright, how about—” your eyes flick down to his hand. “how about you put the knife down and I give you a hand?”

Techno rolls his eyes, turning back to the mirror. “I’m chopping it off whether you like it or not.” A light ‘tch’ leaves his throat. He offers you a glance. “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Leaning your head against the doorframe, the corner of your lip twitches upward into an easy smile. “It’s ‘cause I’ve adapted. Evolved, some might say.” You pause, considering it for a moment. “And I’ve got more than just one old hair tie.” Techno shoots you a look, to which you tilt your head towards the living room. “C’mon.”

Reluctantly, ( dragging a kid to the dentist type reluctance ) Techno follows your steps, slumping onto the couch with a huff. You can see the lack of sleep in his expression, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a twinge of guilt at the sight. Evidently, he hasn’t been getting as much sleep as the rest of you have. It’s ‘cause I got better stamina, he’ll say, like a liar. Because you all know just how far he’s always pushing himself. Acting like he’s got something to make up for— even when you’ve all told him he doesn’t.

“Okay, what?” Your brother asks, exasperated. You blink a few times to snap you out of your daze before offering a smile.

“Sit here.” You palm his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Techno raises his brow at you, watching as you head back to your room. The man exhales loudly, slumping against the couch as he pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s on him, he guesses. He could’ve been more silent and avoid waking you up altogether. Maybe then he would’ve already cut his hair off and headed to the basement to train.

“Techno?”

The man in question raises his head, only to be met by Tommy’s oddly awake frame. He stands awkwardly in the hallway, wearing a blue pajamas and a bowl of popcorn cradled between his hands. The curly haired blond reaches to take off one of his earbuds before quirking a brow. “What’re you doing here?”

Techno lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Waiting.”

Tommy frowns. “For what?”

“Alright.” You finally come back, before turning to see yet another member of the family who should be sleeping. “Oh, hi Tommy.”

Tommy looks down to see hair ties and hairbrushes lying inside a dimly glowing shield between your arms. His eyes flick back up to meet your gaze. “…hi.” He clears his throat. “Uh, what’s going on?”

The shield —now functioning as more of a bowl— glides over to the couch, landing besides Techno. You turn to Tommy, and offering a close-lipped smile, you say, “I’m braiding Techno’s hair.”

Techno straightens at that, lips twisting to complain. “Like hell—”

“You are?” Tommy asks, voice oddly light— without that mischievous edge it always seems to carry. “Can I join?”

Techno shakes his head with a scoff. “Absolutely not.”

You wave him off, handing Tommy a few hair ties and gesturing the couch. “Take a seat.”

Techno sinks deeper into the cushions as Tommy takes a seat by the floor. How is it that one goes from a feared and respected vigilante to playing hair salon with your siblings?

My, my, someone’s fallen off, huh? A voice mocks inside his head, making him sink back down. He’s slacking when he should be training. After all, Blaze nearly caught up with him today. Blaze, of all people. He needs to go back to training, to make sure he doesn’t—

“Could you relax a little?” He hears you chastise, and only now registers that you’ve sat crisscrossed next to him. It should be a red flag, considering he’s got enhanced hearing, but he —surprisingly— doesn’t dwell on it. You roll your eyes, reaching for one of the brushes while gently holding a handful of Techno’s hair. “I’m not gonna try and stab you.”

Techno remains unmoving, back as stiff as wire waiting for you to start, before he hears you sigh. “Can you turn?” He raises a brow. “What? I don’t want to pull your hair.”

“Hey, um,” Tommy starts, popcorn bowl tucked between his legs as he mimics your stance. “Can I braid your hair?” He licks his lips, leaning against his palm. “Y’know, in the meantime?”

As you turn your head to look at Tommy, you notice that —much like Techno— his hair is also overgrown. Curls atop curls, most of which tend to cover his eyesight if he doesn’t brush them back. It makes sense— you think, and like a lightbulb being flicked on, you realize. Of course they have long hair— after all, they were never the ones to cut it.

A fleeting yet acrid feeling curls around your throat. You suppose Phil is in no condition to cut their hair now, is he?

From where Techno sits, he only hears a moment of silence before you answer,

“I don’t see why not.” It’s the hazy state you’re in, he thinks, because there’s no way in a million years you would let Tommy play with your hair. Not after what happened when you were younger.

Techno rolls his shoulders, before gruffly adding. “I can think of a reason. Or three.”

Tommy shakes his head, clambering onto the sofa with a matching scoff. “Quit whining.” He mutters.

He hears you stifle a laugh at that, making him straighten. You look like a child, that same voice mocks in his mind. He grumbles in response, but can’t bring himself to deny it.

Techno feels as you once again reach for a handful of his hair, hairbrush in hand, and all he can think is let this be over quickly. His whole body halts for a second —despite him trying to downplay it as disinterest— awaiting the moment when you start pulling at his hair until his scalp feels sore. He feels as you start running your hairbrush down his pink hair, and instead finds himself feeling… relaxed.

Techno furrows his brows, feeling as you gently run the hairbrush down his long hair, making sure not to pull when you encounter a few knots. It’s… soothing, in a way. Oddly easing. The stiffness of his back slowly starts to lessen, head almost leaning closer to the hairbrush.

He relishes in the silence for a few moments, feeling as his eyelids slowly start to become heavier. It feels good— not that he’d ever say it to either of you. And so he remains, still sitting straight but with his shoulders dropped and his eyes closed. He even feels his thoughts start to grow slower, less agitated, less frustrated.

“Aand we’re done.” You murmur with a soft smile, using one of your hair ties to finish the braid.

Techno would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed.

You flick the pink braid over his shoulder. “It’s easier to handle your hair when it’s braided, you know.” You say, watching as he turns to face both you and Tommy. You offer a shrug. “Feels like less to deal with.”

Techno’s fingers reach upward to retrace the pattern in his hair, before quickly letting it go. Your e/c meet with his brown, and he clears his throat.

“Thanks.” He mumbles gruffly. Then, his gaze drifts over to the blond, who just so happens to have finished braiding your hair. Techno quirks a brow. “Since when do you know how to braid?”

Tommy raises an unimpressed brow, earbud still hanging from his ear. “I picked it up. Somewhere.” Tommy stammers, not so discretely trying to hide from his older brother’s gaze behind your frame.

Techno tilts his head ever so slightly. “Right.” He waits a beat. Two. Three. Then, he shoots a quick glance to the now only closed door in their second floor. “…So is Wilbur the only one actually sleeping in this house?”

You frown for a moment, before clicking your tongue with a shrug. “Yeah, looks like it.”

“Huh.”

ADDITIONAL NOTES: finally!!! htmf!techno content!!! i’ve been rereading the chapters i’ve posted so far and i was surprised to see the lack of brother techno content :/ so!!! here it is!!!

TAGLIST: @god1ngs @creatorofstars @nealocus @sunniewrites @sushisoot @mayempress @tinyegg @theblueblub @glitter-rian @krazykupcakes113 @ozdramaqueen @marimorena06 @wingedghostpepper @rowanndoesntwrite @confusedcrayon @otterly-fey @urbbyangei @emma-jopeth @xenroselle @chaoticotaku @lacunaanonymoused @loser-keiji @fischlvonluftschloss @smolpotatotea @fabcyd @isimpforeveryone @marshymallo @alex-quackitwo @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy @stormy-skies-falling @the-sander-fander @queenofwordsandnerds @zuruik @404reads @olibv @aash-nah @hungrycrazy @sun-moonandstars

[heyyyharry]

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

.

.

.

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

.

.

.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

[animeomegas]

Omega!Shouto Pregnancy Emotions

Anon: This is a request take it if you like haha-Okay how is Todoroki (Shoto) while being prego? Does he get super sexual? Insecure? Happy? Moody? Scared? What does he feel and how do you react to those feelings?

(Hmm, okay, here are some of the primary emotions for Shouto during pregnancy. I hope you enjoy~)

Warnings: None

Some of the main emotions that impact Shouto Todoroki during his pregnancy:

Pained:

Because of Endeavour’s less than stellar parenting style and discriminatory beliefs towards omegas, Shouto’s reproductive system isn’t especially healthy. For that reason, some parts of pregnancy are more painful for Shouto than they would be for most other omegas.

One of the impacts is that the doctors recommend a c-section delivery. Male omegas have a higher risk of needing a c-section than female omegas in general, but Shouto’s hips and pelvis are not very flexible, so he’s at an even higher risk. His hips are not used to shifting, something that he should have experienced gradually starting from teenagerhood but did not because of the super strong suppressants he was on.

So, while he’s pregnant, the following things cause him a lot of pain:

Stomach aches – his stomach is flush against his uterus which is not behaving normally and giving him some problems. It upsets his stomach and it’s something that lasts for his entire pregnancy.

Lower back aches – his hips do try to widen in anticipation of delivering a baby, but it doesn’t work very well for him and is quite painful.

His chest – the doctors are originally unsure as to whether Shouto is going to be able to breast feed. They give him some extra hormones to stimulate milk production in the hopes that it will help. It does help actually, and Shouto is able to breast feed, but the hormones make his chest very swollen for most of his pregnancy. This is common in late pregnancy of course, but for Shouto it’s a little earlier than that and a little more jarring.

You felt helpless as you watched your mate curl up on the couch in pain, knowing there wasn’t anything you could do to fix it. He’d been having stomach and back pains all day and had to come home from work because they had been so bad. You’d also come home from work to pick him up and take care of him. You sighed to yourself as you looked down at him. He was only three months along, but it was looking like he might have to stop working sooner rather than later. Shouto would be miserable if he was forced to make that decision, but there was nothing either of you could do about it.

Shouto’s huff of frustration pulled you out of your thoughts. He was fidgeting with the heating pad that was wrapped around the right side of his tummy. He had been having some trouble balancing his temperature since he got pregnant and he couldn’t warm his stomach by himself. Losing quirk control wasn’t uncommon during pregnancy but having to use a heating pad did make Shouto embarrassed at first.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, kneeling down onto the floor beside him.

“Fine,” came Shouto’s muffled voice from where he had his face buried in a cushion.

“You don’t look fine,” you teased gently, linking you fingers with that hand that Shouto was using to fiddle with the heating pad. “Is something wrong with the heating pad?”

“No,” he huffed. “It’s just too small.”

Without missing a moment, you replied with, 

“That’s what she said.”

“Who said what?” Shouto questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

You snorted at the joke going over his head. He was never good at understanding innuendo humour. 

“It doesn’t matter, my love. But the heating pad is too small? Is your back hurting too?”

Shouto nodded, nuzzling into the cushion and messing up his hair as he did it. You smoothed his hair back down with a hand.

“I know it only needs to go on my right side, but I still can’t get it to sit right.”

You hummed in understanding.

“You want me to go and get a second one from the shop? Or a hot water bottle or something? Unfortunately, I’m not sure we have anything else in the house.”

Shouto hesitated, seeming unsure.

“I really don’t mind going, this is my fault after all,” you joked, placing a hand on his small bump.

“You’re warm,” Shouto muttered.

“I’m warm?”

Shouto blushed and didn’t respond. A teasing grin settled onto your face.

“Do you want me to lay behind you?”

Shouto nodded vigorously but didn’t make eye contact.

You agreed, quickly gathering some water and snacks to put within arm’s reach, before you awkwardly climbed behind Shouto and pulled him flush against your chest to spoon him. You started to rub his stomach to settle him.

Shouto relaxed under your attention and closed his eyes.

“Try to get some sleep, Shouto.”

 Embarrassed:

Shouto doesn’t really suffer from insecurity, but he does get quite embarrassed sometimes at the new way his body is now working.

One very embarrassing thing that I’ve already mentioned is that his control over his powers weakens for the duration for his pregnancy.

During late pregnancy, hiccups involve accidentally setting objects in the house on fire. Shouto can put them out very quickly, but he still finds the fact that his iron clad control has degraded to be very embarrassing.

Another embarrassing thing for Shouto is the limitations on his independence.

Eventually, Shouto can’t put his own shoes on, or clean himself properly and he has to rely on his Alpha for all of it.

(Well, at first, his chosen strategy is just to keep trying by himself until he basically gives his alpha an aneurysm when he almost hurts himself by accident.)

Shouto gets moody and embarrassed when he has to ask for help for small things.

But by far the thing that embarrasses him the most, is his weak pregnancy bladder.

Sneezing becomes a dangerous game for him between the bladder and the spontaneous fire or ice usage.

At one point, Shouto refuses to have sex with his alpha for a couple of weeks because he’s too nervous that he’ll…er… well, lose control.

To deal with all the embarrassment, Shouto’s alpha needs to just downplay any incidents as much as possible, even going so far as to pretend not to notice certain things. This would go a long way in reducing Shouto’s anxiety and embarrassment. Also, indulging him when he says he wants to stay at home because he’s embarrassed will help him a lot.

To summarise, pregnancy weakens the control he has over himself in many ways, and Shouto becomes very embarrassed when he’s reminded of that.

Unfortunately for Shouto, pregnancy being horribly embarrassing is a fact of life.

Clingy:

It is very common for pregnant omegas to feel a lot more possessive and clingier with their alphas.

Hormones are all over the place, and omegas are technically at their most vulnerable (barring heats) so it is a very normal instinct to want to be around the person who their instincts consider as the safest and most able to protect them and their unborn pup.

Shouto is no exception. He pouts when you have to leave the house. He is not impressed at all if you come home with the scent of another omega clinging to your clothes, even if he knows the scent. He calls you about fifteen times on the days when you’re at work, mainly to ask when you’ll be back (even though he already knows), tell you innocuous things about his day, or ask you to pick something up from the shops on your way home.

Shouto is big on cuddling as well, and whenever you’re both in the house, he demands cuddles all the time. He’s a very minimalist nester and so he normally just throws on one of your hoodies and drags a pillow and a blanket onto the couch, before dragging you to lay with him.

(Shouto goes through so many films whilst he’s pregnant because he rarely gets off of the sofa and he likes to have a film playing while he lounges.)

Basically, everything feels better when his alpha is with him. All his alpha needs to do is make sure they’re with him as much as possible, especially in his third trimester, when he’s the most anxious and clingy. (Avoiding getting too close to other omegas is also probably a good idea. Pregnant omegas, including Shouto, can get very worked up about that.)

Your lunch break had just started, and like every other day for the past month, the second your lunch break started, your phone would ring. You picked up your phone in anticipation. Any second now…

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

You smiled automatically as Shouto’s name popped up. You quickly swiped to answer and held it up to your ear.

“Hey, Sho, how’s your day going?”

“Good,” he answered, and you could distantly hear the shuffling of blankets as he rearranged himself on the sofa. “I finished the film Midoriya recommended today.”

“Oh, and how was it?”

“It was good but, I also finished the crisps you bought for me yesterday while I was watching it. Could you bring some more home tonight?”

“Uh huh, of course, baby,” you said, picking up a pen to jot ‘crisps for Sho’ at the top of your to-do list.

There was silence for a few moments as you listened to Shouto continue to shuffle around.

“When are you going to be back?”

“You know when,” you laughed gently. “Asking me isn’t going to make time go faster.”

Shouto whined into the phone, and you immediately sat up straighter. That wasn’t his normal reaction.

“Shouto? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” you could hear a small sniffle through the phone.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Do you want me to come home?”

“I… I’m sorry, you don’t have to come home, it’s okay.”

“Shouto, you’re freaking me out, tell me what’s going on?” you tried to keep your voice steady to soothe him, despite your own worries bubbling at the surface. 

“No, it’s just that,” a small sob escaped him. “Your hoodie doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

You blinked for a moment before sagging in your chair in relief. It was pregnancy hormone induced crying, not emergency crying.

“It’s okay, Sho,” you cooed. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll scent it as much as you want, I promise.”

“Hmm, okay…” he sniffed. “But come home quick, please.”

“I will, if we hang up now, I can work through my lunch break and head home early, sound good? Maybe you should watch another film and the time will go more quickly?”

“Okay… Goodbye…”

“Goodbye sweetheart, I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

[teasty]

kiss yourself (02) |h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader 

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff  ||  fwb to lovers au 

● warnings: | praise | reader and jisung are not in a relationship at the beginning! | suggestive dialogue | profanity | safe sex | cunnilingus | angry reader wants to commit arson lol |

● words: 7.0k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship. 

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately. 

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

● taglist: @itzgabz22

Chapter One | CHAPTER TWO | Chapter Three

“Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good…”

You debated arson the next morning.

You woke up to the sound of screaming over the phone before the sun even came up, and realized that Jeongja was screaming her head off at some poor sap that probably didn’t deserve it. Well, who knows, you’re just mad that she didn’t even bother to leave the dorm room and go scream out in the hallway to give you your peace and another two hours of sleep. She didn’t even bother to apologize to you, only giving you a wave before she gathered some things and dashed out the door.

So, of course, you weren’t really the most happy - go - lucky person today. You decided to be lazy today and just wore an oversized gray tee shirt underneath a black jacket and a pair of denim blue ripped jeans. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, deciding to just let it flow around your shoulders and do it’s thing.

You didn’t see Jeongja again that day. You expected to see her somewhere on campus since you wanted to speak, no, yell at her why she should never, ever scream at three fifty in the morning and not even bother to apologize about it and then go running off. You debated calling her, but you didn’t want to deal with it, especially when you have better things to worry about.

It wasn’t really supposed to be a busy day, but it turned out to be just that. You’re a member of a specific team mostly meant for the organization and well being of the school. It could be considered something like a student council, but you’re not really in charge of the students, just more planning for future events and other things as well as budgeting. You’re only on this team because you were specifically chosen by a group of professors choosing students by their major. So, you, a political science major, got specially chosen for the job. Whether or not you wanted to be a part of the team, you were persuaded into it by professors, saying it’ll be beneficial for future decisions in your career as a politician.

There were only another seven students on the team. One of which, thankfully, is someone you know and trust, Christopher Bang. You both became good friends after you met him that one night months ago. Especially being on this team together made you both closer, and he was a lot friendlier than you had first imagined.

There’s another girl you know on the team, but you couldn’t call her your friend. Sure, you two talked often and never had any reason to dislike each other, but something about her just wasn't right with you. Her name is Jun Chunae. A beautiful young woman in your year, as well as your same major. She’s quite refined and civilized, if anything a little bit too proper for your liking. Whenever you tried to talk about parties, drinking or even just going out with friends for fun, she always liked to lecture you on how it’s disrespectful to the education system to ignore it’s attempt to educate us by going out and partying at night.

Other than that, she’s alright.

But, another thing about Chunae that never really sparked you right was how she acted when she was with Jisung. You had only learned recently that they’re quite touchy - feely with each other. You didn’t think they were friends, but it was obvious that Chunae had the hots for Jisung. But, with Jisung, you couldn’t really tell if he was attracted to her or not. He kind of treated her the way he treats every other girl, including you. And, that fact kind of made you upset. You know that you’re only his friend, but you have benefits that no other girl, to your knowledge, has. No, you don’t want to be treated like his girlfriend, but you didn’t just want to be treated like the only girl in the world one night only to watch him kissing up to someone else the next.

Were you jealous? Yeah, you were. You weren’t too fond of a girl you don’t exactly trust being too intimate with Jisung, your best friend. But, you’d never, ever, admit that to Jisung.

He’d cut things off the minute he hears that you’re jealous. He’d think you’re falling for him, and then try everything in his power to make sure nothing happens between the two of you. And that you’ll only stay his friend, with or without those stupid benefits.

But, back to the point at hand, you were pulled early out of your last class to attend a meeting for the team. You had met up with Christopher on your way to the conference room, since he had a class nearby your own.

“What could they want this time? And, here I thought we finally got out of these dumb meetings,” you whined, and Christopher laughed, nodding along as he agrees.

“I’m not sure,” Christopher sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I think Chunae would be sure to know,” Christopher rolls his eyes. Chunae was always the smart one of the group. She usually knew things before the rest of the team would know, which, in your eyes, was completely unfair. “Nothing against the girl, I just don’t like how she gets all these benefits just ‘cause she kisses the professor’s asses.”

“Right. I get what you mean,” you nod slowly, “But, it must be important if they pulled us out early without notifying us beforehand. It must be for some kind of event going on. No clue, though. We haven’t had a festival yet, so they might start one since winter’s coming soon.”

“Maybe a festival for the first snow?” Christopher suggests.

You shrug a shoulder, “Who knows. I don’t bother checking the weather, so snow could be falling any day, really. But you would think they would at least shoot us an email, right?”

“Who am I kidding, they don’t really care too much to ask if we’re free for a meeting. I was planning on going out with some friends tonight, but if this meeting is just like any other, then I might have to cancel.” Christopher looks down, obviously upset about the situation.

“Hey, don’t be so down about it. We might end early. And, if they do try to keep us in late, then just say you had plans and leave. It’s not like they’re going to kick out or anything. Besides, we’re already only eight people, we need more members, anyways.” You reassure, giving Christopher a friendly pat on the shoulder. You let your hands rest in your pocket, “Were you going to go with Jisung?’

“No, he said he had things to do,” Christopher shakes his head, not minding how you asked about Jisung, since you usually did to keep tabs on him, “No clue what, since that boy complains twenty - four seven about how boring it is in his dorm and how his roomie is usually doing his own thing. So it was just going to be Hyunjin, Changbin, Felix, Minho, Seungmin and I. We were gonna go to a bar. I’d invite you, but I don’t know how comfortable you would be around a bunch of guys without Jisung.”

“Yeah… Thanks for the consideration, though. I haven’t gone out drinking in a while. It might’ve been fun, but I think I would have had things to do tonight, anyways,” You give him a half - hearted smile, and Christopher bothers you a glance before his eyes shoot forward again. “Oh, hey, we’re here already.” You laugh to yourself as you stand in front of a wooden door with the word ‘CONFERENCE’ on it. Christopher opens the door for you, and you walk in. It’s dimly lit, and you weren’t surprised to see Chunae sitting at the head of the table, scrolling through her laptop as a professor sat next to her, mumbling about who knows what.

Her eyes shoot up the moment she hears the door open, and she shoots both you and Christopher a well practiced business smile before she takes her hands off her laptop and bows her head in welcome. Both you and Christopher bow back in respect, especially since a professor is present, and you both take a seat next to each other. “Hello (Y/N), Christopher. Good to see you guys made it. You have our apologies for pulling you out of class at random, but it’s quite important. Let's wait for the others before we start.”

“How important is it?” You ask, leaning back in the comfortable chair, raising a suspicious brow at Chunae, who closes her laptop.

“We’re holding an event, (Y/N),” Chunae says matter - of - factly, as if you should have known this by now, “It’s for the start of winter for the first snow. We’re going to do things a bit differently, a bit more western. It’s going to be… something like a dance. Except, we will have a performer and activities present, but for the majority of it, it’s a dance for the start of winter.”

“Called it,” Christopher raises a hand, and Chunae raises a thin, neatly trimmed brow at Christopher.

“Barely. It’s not like it’s a festival,” you hold back laughter as Christopher shrugs, still proud of his semi - correct assumption.

“Well, it can either be considered a festival or dance. Doesn’t really matter,” Chunae says, and Christopher snorts, and you glare at him. You fold your arms over your chest, making Chunae smile at your stubbornness, “Oh, come on, (Y/N). This will be fun. First, we must figure out budgeting and organization, as well as fitting everything into the school’s schedule. Other than that, it should mostly be advertising and preparation.”

After Chunae’s short description of what’s going to happen, the other team members glide in one by one. They all wave or bow to you, Christopher, the professor and to Chunae. All taking their respective seats and waiting for Chunae to begin the meeting. The professor left shortly after, not without bidding us good luck.

“Oh, and Chunae?” Christopher pipes up, and Chunae raises her brows at Christopher, giving him her attention, “How long are you going to keep up here. I originally had plans to go out with friends, so I don’t want to stay here until eleven like last time, if you can help it.”

“This is a very vital meeting, Christopher,” Chunae says, and Christopher rolls his eyes, looking away, “I don’t care if you want to go out with friends or not, this meeting might be long and that’s alright. You may choose to leave when you feel like it, but you might be absent for important information. It’s your choice.”

“Then why can’t you just e - mail me the information I missed?” Christopher shrugs a shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“Because it’s better to discuss in person, is it not?” Chunae stands up, picking up her laptop, “We will debate on different things, as well as discuss things. It’s difficult to discuss in real time over e - mail.”

“Then call me. I’ve got things planned, Chunae, you can’t just pull us out of nowhere and expect us to keep our mouths shut when you don’t even warn us beforehand that there’s going to be a meeting. Sorry, Chunae, but you’re not in charge,” Christopher sighs, obviously irritated. Chunae waits with a stoic expression.

“I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am. I know I’m not in charge, but the professors have trusted me with the information I’m about to share. If you take this role responsibly, you’ll stay without argument. If you don’t, then leave. You won’t be kicked from your spot, but, as said before, you will miss a lot of vital information. It’s your choice in the end,” Chunae responds, and Christopher sighs, deciding not to argue further.

And after that little dispute, Chunae started the meeting by explaining what’s going on. And, as said before, the school is hosting a dance, which is not something ordinary for Korean colleges, since festivals usually took place in spring and usually was just with an invited idol to perform for a few hours. Chunae explained that this dance is mainly supposed to mark the end of fall and a new quarter, as well as the first seeing of snow. It was obvious, even though she never directly said it, that it’s mostly meant for couples and friends.

Each team member was given a specific task to do. Before Christopher left to go out with friends, he was given the task of budgeting. You were in charge of consulting, which was mostly just getting people to fund as well as finding performers, DJs, hosts and other people. It’s a lot of social work you weren’t too excited for, but you knew you had to take responsibility and do the job whether or not you wanted to do it.

Though it was quite boring, you had gotten a text midway through it. Chunae gave you a subtle glare, but didn’t care for how you responded to the text and carried on with the meeting.

It was Jisung.

heard you were pulled into a meeting. how long will u be there?

You responded quickly, keeping your phone under the table as you typed, your hands somewhat trembling, and you had to calm yourself as you typed.

wont be leaving for another hour or two. its pretty big. ill let you know when im leaving

He responded to you, but you didn’t bother to look at it as you shoved your phone back in your pocket.

“And who was that?” Chunae asks after a moment, staring down at you.

“Why do you wanna know?” Your brows furrow, and Chunae sighs.

“Because I’m talking about something important and you’re texting.”

“It’s my friend. Calm down, he’s just wondering when I’m getting off,” you raise your hands in a mocking surrender, and Chunae’s chin lifts higher.

“Hmm. Is it Jisung? Han Jisung? He’s your friend, is he not?” Chunae asks, and you begin to feel annoyance pile through you.

“Yeah, he is. What about it?” You ask, and Chunae shrugs her shoulders.

“I was just wondering,” Chunae sits back down in her seat, the others watching the conversation between the two of you with curious eyes. Chunae stuffs a lock of hair behind her ear, “He’s quite the looker. I hope I have your blessing if anything were to happen between us.”

“I don’t care what happens between the two of you guys,” you spit out, lying straight through your teeth. You do care. You care a lot. A part of you would be happy for Jisung, but another part doesn’t want him to leave you hanging for a girl like Chunae. You know she would treat him well and that Jisung might be better off with a girl like Chunae, but that jealous part of you doesn’t want to let him go. You love the sneaking around, the overnight sessions and even the semi - public ones. You’re not really ready to let that go, yet. It’s only been a few months. You didn’t expect for someone to be kissing up to Jisung this soon, but you should have expected it. “He’s my best friend. As long as you treat him well, then I might not consider punching your teeth in if you do end up with him.”

Chunae laughs, and you tensely chuckle through your nose along with her, “Well, I’m sure Jisung is happy to have a friend like you, (Y/N). So protective. Sometimes I’ve gone to wonder if you two are really in a relationship or not.”

“Yeah. You two basically hang off of each other, you’re around each other all of the time,” says another team member who you recognized as Naeyeon. Someone you didn’t bother to get to know. She didn’t seem to like you that much, anyways.

“It’s none of your business in the first place, if we were in a relationship. Which, we’re not,” you snap, not really in the mood to talk about Jisung right now, “Can we get back to the main focus?”

“Yes, my apologies, (Y/N). I shouldn’t invade your personal life like that in a professional environment like this,” Chunae stands up again, and you sigh. Already tired of this meeting.

At the end, you’re given loads of papers to go through considering consultation, and you weren’t ready to study them just yet. Your backpack got ten times heavier as you stuffed them in there, and you were the first one to leave when Chunae called the meeting to an end. You didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as you slammed through the door, basically speed - walking to get out of the main building and to the dorm rooms.

As said before, you had nothing against Chunae. In fact, you’d like to get to know her past her proper and all - to civilized self. If she were to let loose, she might be really fun, in your eyes. Her whole aura just sets you off, sometimes. Sometimes, she can get pretty stuck up, and you’re not sure how Jisung could handle her if he continuously complains about your stubbornness.

Speaking of Jisung, one of the first things you did when you basically ran out of the conference room was text Jisung that the meeting’s finally over and if you should start heading there.

He never answered faster.

He said you should head there, but to be careful of security since it’s so late. You were cautious, but thankfully no officer was out this late, even though it was only ten - thirty at night and curfew was thirty minutes ago. It’s a pretty long walk to Jisung’s dorm, though, since it’s on the top floor of the (decently huge) building. Since it’s past curfew, the elevators weren’t in working order anymore, and you had to take the stairs to the top floor, which absolutely killed your feet. But, once you made it to the familiar dorm door, you rested against the doorframe before knocking softly.

It takes Jisung a minute to open the door. You take that time to relax your weight against the doorframe, but your peace is short-lived when the door swings open so fast you almost lose balance of yourself by how fast Jisung opens the door. So, it takes you a short moment to actually take in Jisung’s appearance. His hair is messy and damp, and it’s obvious he has just showered most likely not too long ago. He wears a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt, and you try not to gawk at his well built and defined body. He stares down at you silently, a small smirk playing at his lips as his half - lidded eyes scan over your body.

But, after that moment, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside. The moment the door is slammed shut and locked behind you, he presses you against the door. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest as Jisung’s hands grip your wrists and pin you to the door. His face mere centimeters away from yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips. Your backpack falls to the floor. No matter how many times you’ve had sex with Jisung, he’s never been one for intimate kissing in your relationship with him. Which, to you, was weird since he always tried to get playful kissing from you out of sex or even from his other friends. Sure, you’ve both kissed before, but usually it’s not very intimate.

But, he kisses you before you could say anything. His hands firmly, yet gently gripping your wrists and pinning them to the door as his lips find themselves planted against yours. His soft lips move with yours in a passionate sync, and you don’t hesitate when you kiss him back. Your hands balled into fists as Jisung presses his body against yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Chills shoot through your body as Jisung’s lips capture yours in a slow, yet lust filled kiss. It’s not rushed nor sloppy, but filled with desire and crave. You let yourself melt into his kiss, his experienced lips having you succumb to him, and you could already feel yourself dripping wet from just this simple kiss.

To you, however, it wasn't so simple. You never usually get this chance to have Jisung kiss you so passionately. You never bothered to ask why, and mostly thought he didn’t want to do it because, during sex, it’s something mostly only real couples would do. Not friends with benefits. So, when his tongue meets with yours in a euphoric, blissful way, you try to savor the feeling. Knowing this might be one of few chances you’ll get to actually enjoy such a kiss, you try to make it last as long as you can.

Jisung’s lips eventually lift off of yours, but he leads a trail of firm, wet kisses down your jawline and over your neck. His tongue licking stripes up your neck as he sucks on the delicate skin. Your womanhood throbs from the feeling, and your legs press together. Jisung’s hands let go of your wrists, and you let your hands grip onto Jisung’s hair. His hands creep underneath your shirt and hoodie, lifting them up as his cold hands meet with your warm skin. His hands feel up your waist, and your head falls back, your kiss - bruised mouth opening from the bliss.

“What… What’s gotten into you tonight?” You mumble out, your arms wrapping around Jisung’s neck, pressing him further against you as his hands firmly brush over your ass and up your back.

Jisung’s lips brush against the lobe of your ear and he chuckles deeply, sending chills through you and you let out a pathetic whimper because of it, “Can’t I do something for a friend?” He says this in just above a whisper, his voice deeper and huskier than normal. And then he goes back to pressing kisses underneath your ear, trailing down your neck, moving one hand up to move your hair out of the way.

You don’t argue with him, and you let him dominate you.

Jisung pulls off your hoodie along with your tee shirt. Pulling you away from the door as he throws the articles of clothing to the side. He guides you to his bed, having you lay down on your back as Jisung pulls himself over you. Trapping you underneath him, and your hands fly to the sides of your head, succumbing to him. Jisung pushes himself down, now pressing kisses to your collarbone and over your chest. One hand fumbling with the straps of your bra, pushing them down your shoulders before they tamper with the clip.

Jisung doesn’t even hesitate to rip off your bra, and throw it alongside the other articles of clothing (most of which landed on Jeongin’s bed, and you would do something about it if you weren’t so caught up in the moment with Jisung). You let in a deep, sharp inhale when your warm breasts make contact with the cool air. Jisung looks down at you, examining your exposed breasts before his eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is flushed a beautiful pink, and Jisung stares at your face, loving the flustered expression you’re making before his head dips down. One hand flying up to cup one breast, his hands moving efficiently and swiftly as he firmly massages it. His lips kissing down your other breast before his tongue makes contact with your erect bud.

You emit a breathy moan as chills run through your body as Jisung suckles on one breast while his hand plays with the other. His thumb running over and pressing against the hard bud as he firmly massages your breast in circles. His tongue working wonders over your sensitive nipple, and your teeth capture your bottom lip in between them as your hands run through his hair, letting out soft whimpers here and there when he sucks harshly on your breast or pinches your nipple.

“Jisung… Oh, you’re gonna make me pay you back for this, aren’t you?” You breathe out, and Jisung chuckles against you. His tongue pressing against your nipple, and his eyes look up to meet yours.

Once he lets go, your back arches when your breast, which was once warm in the cavern of Jisung’s mouth and tongue, meets the cold air. “You think so lowly of me, baby.” Jisung presses kisses along your chest, going lower and lower, and you watch him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“I’m usually the one blowing you off, Jisung - ah,” you state, “It’s not like you to - mmh…! - do things like this.” The back of your hand presses against your lips as they press into a firm line, trying to hold back whimpers as Jisung’s fingers start to undo the buttons of your jeans. His lips pressing kisses to the bottom of your abdomen; a sensitive area, and it sends sparks of chills up your spine.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” Jisung breathes out, lips still pressed against your skin as he speaks, his dark eyes flickering up to meet with yours, “Don’t think too much into it. Just let me make you feel good, alright?” You nod quickly, your mouth closing and your hips lift with Jisung’s hands as he slowly pulls off your jeans. “That’s my good girl. My good little (Y/N).” He chuckles darkly, and you whimper softly at both the feeling of your soaked panties meeting the cold air and from Jisung’s praise.

Your thighs are on either side of his head, and Jisung’s hands guide them apart, spreading you out for him. And, boy, is it a sight for sore eyes. Jisung occasionally looking up at you, the eye contact making you even wetter from just the intensity of his eyes. His breath fans your clothed cunt, and your hips jitter and twitch just from that. Jisung cooes at your sensitivity. He knows you’re sensitive, but since things are usually rushed, he’s never really taken the chance to slowly edge you on. “My baby girl is so sensitive and I haven’t even touched her pussy…”

Jisung’s finger makes contact with your clothed cunt, pressing against your labia and firmly pressing up and over your clit. Your hips stutter at the feeling, and Jisung watches you as your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back. Your mouth opening to let out a beautiful, breathy moan.

But, you weren’t prepared for when Jisung pulls off your panties, his hands having to fly up to stop your thighs from slamming against either side of his head. “Ah - ah - ah… keep your legs spread for me.” He guides your legs back, spread apart and resting against the sheets. A slight burn on your inner thighs from the stretch. You watch Jisung as one arm wraps around one of your thighs, his other hand caressing your other thigh, and he presses a wet kiss on your inner thigh. Dangerously close to your exposed pussy. And, oh, how exposed you feel. Usually, you both do quickies in bathrooms or the car or somewhere where you have to put your clothes back on quickly. You’re never, usually, completely nude in front of him. So you couldn’t deny that you were a bit embarrassed by how exposed you were to him.

Your head flies back, and you finally let out your first vocal moan when Jisung’s mouth comes in contact with your pussy. His tongue pressing against your wet cunt and his lips kissing your folds. Jisung smirks against you, his tongue working wonders on your throbbing cunt. His warm mouth engulfing your cunt, and your hands brush through his hair. Gripping onto either his hair or the sheets by you as Jisung’s tongue lickes stripes up your labia, occasionally teasing your sensitive, aching clit.

Your moans get even louder when one of Jisung’s fingers begins to tease your entrance, his mouth now more focused on your clit. His middle finger slowly enters you, and you clench around him. “Oh, fuck, Jisunggie… That feels so good.” You whimper out as Jisung’s knuckles meet with you, as his finger is fully flush inside of you. Your warmth engulfing his finger, clenching around him, looking for something more. He chuckles against you, his tongue still licking up your clit, sometimes pressing sloppy kisses to it. His finger slowly begins to thrust in and out of you. More of a slow drag than a thrust.

Your mind fogs as Jisung slowly begins to add more and more fingers, his pace still slow, but fast enough to make you whimper delicately when his fingers hit a certain spot deep inside your wet, warm walls. His other hand gripping your thigh firmly, but not firm enough to leave a mark of any kind. You gently moan out his name, and it only seems to give him more and more confidence to be just a little bit rougher, but still being euphorically slow and steady.

However, it’s when he sucks gently on your clit and roughly drags three fingers out, stretching you out, before letting them roughly ram back into you, hitting your G - Spot, when you feel your climax nearing. Your back arches, and your hands grip the sheet by your head tightly as you let out a moan, “Ji… Baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your bottom lip becomes captured in between your teeth as your hips begin to stutter and twitch, bucking up into Jisung, but his free hand tries to hold you down. He didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even look up at you. His brows furrow, focused solely on your climax. He doesn’t slow down either. He only speeds up. Sucking on your clit while his fingers thrust into you.

When your climax hits, you let out a string of loud moans, both incoherent curse words and Jisung’s name. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth opens. Your back arching off of the bed as you cum on Jisung’s fingers. His fingers rut slowly into you, twisting and pressing against your G - Spot. His tongue presses against your clit to helpL: you ride out your high.

His lips detach from your throbbing pussy, and his fingers slowly pull out of you. His fingers coated in your cum. Jisung takes a moment to catch his breath. He looks up at you, and you're still coming back from your orgasm, the sense of overwhelming bliss. Jisung climbs up, trapping you under him once more. Your legs still spread for him, and Jisung pulls you into another kiss.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s bitter, but you don’t care. You don’t care for how gross it may be, you just want to kiss him. You just want all of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and Jisung’s hands caress your thighs, “Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good… You want that? Want me to fuck you, baby girl?”

Your head leans back and Jisung’s lips graze over your neck, “Yes, Jisung. I want you to fuck me hard… Want you to fill me, please. Please, Jisung, I need you so bad.”

Jisung smirks, already pulling down his sweats, “I fucking love how you beg for me. Only for me.” You moan out in response. Jisung finally lets his hard cock free, and it presses to his abdomen. Leaking with precum, just from eating you out. The tip is a pretty pink, and you bask in the thought how you, alone, can make him so hard. Jisung gets on his knees, and you watch how he takes a condom from his nightstand drawer and rips it open. Preparing his cock into it before his tip presses against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

“You ready for me, baby?” Jisung asks, moving your hips up to align with his cock, which is barely pressing against your entrance. You nod frantically, the only thing coursing through your mind being how badly you want Jisung’s cock inside you. How ready you are for him. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes… Goddamn it, Jisung, just fuck me already, please. I need it so bad,” You whimper out, irritated by the emptiness inside you.

Jisung laughs darkly, “Feisty, now are we? I like your pride, (Y/N), but I’ll be sure to shut you up, got it?” And, without warning, Jisung presses into you. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as Jisung’s hard cock slowly drags deeper and deeper into you. Filling you to the brim, and stretching you out more than his fingers ever could. Jisung’s hand grips your wrist, pinning it to the bed, “No, no. I want to hear your voice. Wanna hear your pretty moans as I break you.”

Jisung is slow, painfully slow at first. You’re wondering how he could hold back, since he usually tends to fuck you like no tomorrow. Jisung slowly drags himself out, feeling your walls clench around him, before pushing himself back in. His head dips down to watch his cock disappear into your soaking pussy, and he lets out small groans as you let out breathy moans with each thrust. “Ji… Jisung - ah… Faster, please.” Jisung looks up at you, a smirk edging on his lips before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“As you wish, (Y/N),” and so he followed through with your plea, and slowly started to pick up speed. His forehead presses against the side of your head as your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to get even deeper inside you. With every thrust, you can feel his tip meet your cervix, and it’s such an intense feeling, you could cum right there with just enough force. But, you want this to last. You want to savor this moment for as long as you can.

Soon enough, Jisung flips you over, pressing the side of your face into the mattress as he gets on his knees. He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back and moves your hair to the side to give himself the access he needs to press wet kisses to the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he enters you once more. His hands grip your wrists as he groans into your neck, your loud moans muffled by the pillow below you as Jisung rams into you. His cock moving fast against your walls, giving such a blissful, burning sensation inside you that you want even more of. His hips meet over and over again with your ass as he thrusts into you. Your moans echo through the room, and at this point, you don’t care if anyone overheard you.

“Oh, fuck, baby. God, I love your pussy so much,” Jisung moans out next to your ear, and you don’t have the stability to respond to him, only with pathetic moans falling out of your lips. “Drivin’ me goddamn crazy…” Jisung grumbles as he sits himself up. His hands gripping your hips firmly to move you with him, sending you back with his thrusts as he fucks himself into you.

You can tell when Jisung is nearing his climax, because instead of his usual rhythmic thrusts, his hips begin to stagger and twitch, and his moans rise in pitch and get louder in volume. When he nears his climax, you can feel another one climbing up for you, mostly from the pure oversensitivity from your last orgasm. “Oh my fucking god… Oh fuck, cum with me, (Y/N). Cum with me.” He moans out his words, and your voice gets higher as your back arches once more, meeting your climax. Jisung leans over you again, his forehead resting on the back of your neck as his hands tightly grip your hips as he cums at last into the condom.

“Fucking hell… that was so good,” you breath out, trying to catch your breath. Jisung takes his time to relax his overworked muscles by leaning over you. He takes a minute before he pulls himself up and out of you. Your hips fall, and you wipe off the sweat as Jisung ties off the condom and gets up, tossing it into the bin.

He gets up, going over to his dresser to grab a towel. He cleans you up silently, and you watch him with curious eyes.

The moment he turns away to toss the towel into a hamper, you get up and walk over to Jeongin’s bed to grab the clothes Jisung had thrown onto it. You pick up your bra and shirt, and you barely even notice Jisung behind you before he speaks, “Are you leaving?”

“Don’t you want me to?” You look over to Jisung, who’s now wearing a pair of boxers and nothing more. He’s standing close behind you. You don’t mind the close proximity.

Jisung shakes his head, “No… Stay here tonight. Jeongin won't be back till the weekend.” Your mouth falls ajar slightly, surprised by his words. You pull your shirt over your head and put it on, and Jisung watches you.

“Alright… I’ll stay,” you sigh, and Jisung smiles down at you softly. You turn to face him, your brows furrowed, “But, seriously, what has gotten into you? You’re a bit more… intimate tonight. Didn’t really expect that.”

“What? Can’t I do something for you?” Jisung teasingly smirks at you.

“Well… yeah, but I just didn’t expect you… to do that.” You mumble out, and Jisung laughs.

“Kiss you like that?”

“Yeah.” You shrug a shoulder, “You know what, let’s not think too much into it. I’m tired.” You sigh, and Jisung laughs softly, shaking his head. You climb into his bed, pulling his blanket over you as Jisung turns off the lights and climbs in right next to you. Pressing his chest against your back, and one of his arms wraps around your waist. His chin resting on top of your head. Your heart hammers against your chest, and you try to calm yourself so he wouldn’t hear it. But, it seems impossible. Jisung’s acting weird today, and you want to find out why.

But, the answer comes sooner than you imagined.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer.”

Your eyes snap open, and your brows furrow. “What… did you say?”

“I said… I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer,” Jisung repeats, a bit louder than before. You had heard him loud and clear the first time, but it shocked you, “I… I dunno, (Y/N). There’s this girl. And… I really… really like her. God, I sound like a middle schooler, don’t I?” He chuckles, but you don’t respond to him. You stare at the darkness, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes that you’re not responding. His arm squeezes you tightly. “If things work out, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Who is it?”

“Huh?”

“Who is it.”

Jisung chuckles again, and you can tell he’s getting nervous. Whatever the reason is, you don’t know. Maybe he can tell that you’re irritated with this news, “You know that one girl in your political science class? Jun Chunae. It’s her.” You hold back a groan, and roll your eyes. Of course it’s Chunae, “She and I have been hanging out recently. And, god, I think I really like her, (Y/N).”

“Of course,” you scoff, and Jisung props himself up to look at you through the darkness, “Of fuckin’ course it’s Chunae. Always Jun Chunae. That’s why you invited me over, wasn’t it? That’s why you treated me so well tonight, because it’s one of the last times, huh?”

“No, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying,” Jisung says slowly, as if dipping toes in dangerous waters.

“Don’t lie to me, Jisung,” you snap, “I know you. You don’t like to kiss me before, during or even after sex. You just don’t. You don’t take it slow and you don’t even usually bother to pleasure me. I get it now. It’s not a problem, I’m just a bit upset that you lied to me.”

“And how the fuck did I lie to you,” Jisung doesn’t even ask it, it’s more of a demand. You can hear how he’s getting angry right back at you.

“You said you wanted to do something special for me. You said that this was supposed to be special. But, it’s not. Just for you to cut things off.” You sit up and push Jisung’s arm off of you. You scramble off of the bed, and Jisung laughs bitterly.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). You’re overreacting,” you can hear Jisung’s smile in his voice, but you don’t smile. You don’t even bother with your underwear and just throw your jeans on. You turn on the light and slip on your shoes. Jisung’s expression falls, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t leave.” You turn back to give him a dead glare, and Jisung brows crease in desperation.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here if you’re going to start chasing after Chunae, don’t you think?” You say and sling your backpack over your shoulders.

“But, if you just wait a little bit longer… I can…”

“You can what, Jisung?” You turn to face him.

“I…” Jisung trails off.

“Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You unlock the door and open it, “Thanks for the special night.”

Jisung gives up, and plops back onto the bed as you slam the door behind you.

Now you were really considering arson. And not just for the school, but to just burn down Jun Chunae.

You weren’t in love with Han Jisung. But a part of you was beginning to debate that.

[the-al-chemist]

The Easter Bunny

A/N: This is really a silly little crack-fic, but I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Characters featured are the property of @lifeofkaze, @kc-and-co, @whatwouldvalerydo, @kathrynalicemc, @thatravenpuffwitch, @that-scouse-wizard and @hogwartsmysteryho. Happy Easter to all of you, and to the rest of my darling mutuals. Warnings: death and reincarnation/necromancy, a lot of dark humour, a little blasphemy.

Friday

“And now my heart joins the thousand; my friend stopped running today.”

As Rylie closed the book and stepped to one side, Dylan sighed deeply and took her place next to the pumpkin.

“Thank you, Rylie, for that… beautiful and very emotional reading,” he said, projecting his voice over the loud sobbing that filled the dusky air. “It is with great sadness that we are all gathered here this evening, to say goodbye to” - his girlfriend Dana gave him a pointed look, and he somehow managed to refrain from rolling his eyes - “a very dear and beloved friend.”

“The very best friend,” sniffed Saffron Summers, before collapsing against Dana’s shoulders with a fresh round of hysterical tears.

“Yeah. Sure. Our very best friend, Gavin.”

“Gavin!”

“Anyway,” Dylan raised his voice yet louder, ignoring Saffron’s wails, “We are here to say goodbye to Gavin. Gavin was a very loyal companion, and will be missed.”

One arm still around Saffron’s shoulders and the other stroking her blonde hair, Dana raised her eyebrows at Dylan, who shrugged in return. He wasn’t really sure what else he could say. He hadn’t wanted to say anything at all, or even go to the funeral. Personally, he thought the whole idea of having a funeral was ridiculous. Gavin was a rabbit, for Godric’s sake.

But as Dana’s stare hardened, he swallowed his pride and continued to provide his liturgy.

“Gavin was an incredibly well-behaved rabbit, very charming and friendly to all who crossed his path” - except for the time he had bitten Dylan’s finger, of course - “with boundless curiosity and intelligence that surpassed any other of his species.”

That was only half true, really. Perhaps if Gavin had been a little less curious and a lot more intelligent, he would not have licked an unknown substance from the floor of the Potions classroom during the Slytherins’ end of term exam. Gavin had only himself to blame for his untimely demise, really.

“He was everything that a rabbit should be and more. A veritable paragon of rabbits,” Dylan said, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend, still not sure why he had agreed to this. “May he rest in… pumpkin.”

The pumpkin burial, like the rest of this whole sodding charade, had been Saffron’s idea. Still crying hysterically, she carried Gavin the rabbit’s limp body, wrapped in a pashmina, to the pumpkin that had been gutted especially to provide Gavin’s final resting place. Dylan didn't have the heart to tell her that this probably wasn’t the most sensible of tombs, being made of decomposable vegetable flesh. He would just have to cast some kind of preserving spell on it when she wasn’t looking.

With Gavin safely laid to rest inside the pumpkin, a large piece of quartz holding down the lid of his squash sarcophagus, Dylan hastened to finish up the funeral service.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, rabbit to pumpkin, amen,” he muttered, drawing the line at crossing himself.

“Amen,” several voices echoed the sentiment, many of Saffron’s friends having come down to the pumpkin patch to support her as she said goodbye to Gavin the rabbit, not just him, Dana and Rylie.

Both Nova Mae and Scarlett Tempest were dressed in black, though of course this was not an unusual fashion choice for Scarlett; Samuel Murad had turned up despite usually not liking to socialise with anyone, though he had stayed silent throughout the ceremony; and Dante Briarwood, who had been the one to discover Gavin’s body at the end of his exam, looked more sombre than anyone.

Dylan wasn’t really sure why - out of all of them - he had been chosen to be the officiant. They all seemed much more invested in this than he was, as he could have predicted, and had done so the three times he had declined to lead his friends in the bizarre funeral rites. But, of course, Dana had got her way eventually, more because Dylan could no longer be bothered to argue with her than because he wanted to give Gavin a proper send off. He had never really even liked Gavin that much; he smelled funny and made him sneeze.

Still, as their little crew left the pumpkin patch, each having stuck a burning stick of incense in a ring around the pumpkin containing Gavin the rabbit, Dylan found himself taking one final look back at the sun setting over the top of the forest, he felt his heart tug a little. He ran his thumb over the rabbit-bite scar on his forefinger and smiled sadly.

“Goodbye, Gavin.”

Saturday

“Can we just start?” said Nova, staring at a pain au chocolat with her blue eyes wide.

“No,” said Dana, definitely. “Not until Saff gets here.”

Nova sighed heavily. She understood why Dana was so set on waiting for Saffron, but at the same time, her coffee was getting cold.

“Saff might not come,” she told Dana.

“She will. It’s the last Saturday breakfast of term. She won’t miss it.”

Somehow, Nova got the impression that Dana was wrong, that Saffron was not going to arrive. Judging by the look on Scarlett’s face, she was sceptical, too. But Dana clearly wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet.

“Saffron was really upset yesterday,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and refusing to so much as look at the food in front of her. “We are her friends. We should be here for her.”

“Bit difficult if she’s not actually here with us, though,” muttered Scarlett, already picking up her coffee. “I say we start, and if she doesn’t show up, we bring breakfast to her.”

Dana pursed her lips, but Nova followed Scarlett’s example, already feeling more human as the coffee passed her lips. It didn’t take long for Dana’s resolve to break, and soon the three of them were all eating together, though Nova had to admit that breakfast just wasn’t the same without Saffron.

“I think it will take more than just breakfast to cheer her up,” she told the other girls. “I think we are going to have to go in with all guns blazing. Dana, what do you think?”

“I could bring her nail varnishes. That always cheers her up.”

“Excellent. I’ll bring her my ukulele. Scarlett?”

“I’ll buy her a new rabbit,” said Scarlett wryly. “Or I’ll get Rory McTavish to go down there and pull one out of a hat for her.”

“Careful, that might not be the only thing he tries to pull.”

Nova and Scarlett exchanged smirks. Unfortunately, Dana was less amused.

“I don’t see how you two can find this funny,” she said, her voice terse and an angry look in her eyes. “Poor Saffron is really upset and poor Gavin is dead, and you two are making fun of them.”

“We aren’t making fun, we just-”

“Besides,” Dana interrupted Nova mid-sentence, “even if Rory could pull another rabbit out of a hat, it still wouldn’t be the same, would it? It’s Gavin that Saffron is missing.”

“Fine,” Scarlett said, rolling her eyes. “Then I suggest necromancy. Resurrect the bunny. We could get Dafne Arcano to help us.”

While Nova bit her lower lip to stop herself from smiling at Scarlett’s sarcastic comment, Dana continued to look reproachfully at both of them.

At least, she did for a while.

“Well,” she said eventually, “I guess…”

“I wasn’t being serious, Dana.”

“I know, but we can’t do nothing, not when Saffron is so upset!”

“We aren’t going to do nothing. You’re going to paint her nails, Nova’s going to bring her ukulele, remember?”

“Yes, but…” Dana looked at Nova hopefully. “It wouldn’t do any harm just to ask her, would it?”

“Yes,” said Nova, simply. “Trust me, I’ve read Pet Sematary, I know exactly how much of a slippery slope that can be.”

But even as she said the words, Nova knew that they would do nothing. Dana’s mind was made up.

And so, after breakfast, the three of them found themselves traipsing all over the castle in search of Dafne Arcano, the necromancer. Eventually, they found her in the library, a large and impossibly dusty book and a small skull on the table in front of her.

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking up at them with both her seeing and her blind eye narrowed in suspicion.

“Actually, yes, I think you might be able to help us,” said Dana, pulling over a chair and chatting to Dafne as if they were best friends, or as if what she was about to ask her was about something a lot less morbid than the possibility of resurrecting someone’s dead pet. “I don’t know if you know our friend Saffron, Saffron Summers?”

Dafne nodded slowly. “She put a bit of obsidian under my pillow once. I still don’t know how she got into my dormitory.”

“Yes, anyway, Saffron’s rabbit sadly passed away yesterday-”

“And you want me to find out how?”

“Um, no,” Dana shook her head. “We know how. He was found in the Potions classroom; he must have been poisoned by drinking a potion.”

“Makes sense,” Dafne frowned. “So what do you need me for?”

Dana looked nervously at Nova and Scarlett, the latter of whom let out a deep, exasperated sigh.

“We want to know if you can… bring him back,” she said, sounding as if she hated herself for even saying the words.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am being entirely serious.”

“No.”

Dafne Arcano returned her gaze to the open pages of her book. Nova counted down from three in her head. Just as she got to zero, Dana piped up again.

“Will you not even try?” she asked Dafne, who looked up at her and blinked, her face expressionless.

“Trust me,” she told Dana. “You really don’t want me to do that.”

“But-”

“That’s understandable. Thank you anyway, Dafne,” said Nova quickly, seeing the way that the necromancer’s body had tensed. “Come on, Dana. Let’s go and see if they have any Stephen King novels in this library for you to read.”

“I don’t want to read any Stephen King novels.”

“Tough. I think you need to.”

Nova half-dragged Dana away from Dafne Arcano, whose posture immediately became more relaxed. Looking back over her shoulder, Nova thought that she might have even seen her smirking to herself.

Sunday

The sun had not yet risen when Dana met Saffron in the quad. They walked quietly through the still slumbering castle to the grounds as the sky lightened outside, changing from an inky indigo to a vivid violet, with shades of amber and pink streaking across the horizon.

Usually, Saffron would have marvelled at the colours of the sky, but she was still upset, her tears watering the bunch of flowers she carried with her. Dana’s heart could have broke for her. She wished that there was something she could do to make her friend happy again.

As they reached the pumpkin patch, Saffron’s sobbing redoubled in intensity. However, rather than sadness, Dana began to feel angry. Someone had overturned the pumpkin containing the dead rabbit, the pumpkin lid and the crystal holding it down having rolled away across the soil.

“Oh no! Who would do such a horrible thing to Gavin’s lovely coffin?” Saffron cried, staring at sight.

“I don’t know, Saff,” said Dana, frowning deeply as she hugged her friend. “But we will find out, and we will make sure that they never do it again, okay?”

“Okay. But what about Gavin?”

Dana swallowed. “I’ll make sure he goes back in the way he was before. Just wait there.”

Trying her hardest not to show her revulsion to Saffron, Dana made her way over to the pumpkin coffin, picking up the lid and crystal and carrying them back towards it. Inside the hollowed squash, the pashmina that had swaddled Gavin’s body was in disarray. Reluctantly, Dana held her breath and reached out to rearrange the scarf so that Gavin would once more be wrapped up safely.

But Gavin was not there. Dana blinked, and less hesitantly moved the scarf to double check. No, he really wasn’t there. Gavin had gone.

“What’s the matter?” asked Saffron, staring wide-eyed at Dana. “What have they done to him?”

Before Dana could make up a lie or find the words to break the truth in the nicest way possible, Saffron too had made her way over to the pumpkin.

“They’ve stolen him!” Saffron said, and her bottom lip trembled. “Someone has stolen Gavin!”

Dana took a deep breath. Somehow, that seemed unlikely. In all probability, an animal had discovered the pumpkin and the rabbit inside, and considered him an easy meal. She cursed herself for not insisting to Saffron that they at least bury the pumpkin properly, like Dylan had suggested.

She opened her mouth to try and explain this gently to Saffron, but was interrupted by a rustling noise from a nearby group of cabbages that was so loud and sudden it made both girls jump.

The two young women stood close together and stared at the source of the noise, watching as the leaves of the cabbages wriggled and writhed in time with the sound. Whatever was making it was moving towards them closer and closer, making its way out of the cabbages and into the open, until it emerged. As it did, Dana’s jaw dropped. She recognised that creature, its tawny brown fur, its long ears, its fluffy white tail and twitchy little nose.

“IT’S GAVIN!” Saffron dropped Dana’s hand and her bunch of flowers and ran towards the rabbit. “Gavin, you’re alive!”

Gavin the rabbit hopped over to Saffron and jumped into her outstretched arms, clearly very much alive and well.

“It’s a miracle! Gavin, you are a miracle!”

Dana nodded, smiling from ear to ear all the way back to the castle. As Saffron took Gavin back to her dormitory, Dana went to the library. She saw Dafne Arcano sitting at a table near the Restricted Section and ran over to her, wrapping her arms around her.

“Thank you so much, Dafne! I knew you could do it! You’re such a wonderful person, how can I ever thank you enough?”

“Please stop hugging me.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” Dana immediately let go of Dafne, but her smile did not fade. “I’m just so grateful, that’s all. What you did was so kind, and you’ve really made Saffron very happy.”

Dafne Arcano blinked. “What did I do, exactly?”

“You know. Saffron’s bunny. The necromancy. You did such a great job, honestly, you’d think that he’d never been dead at all. You really are very talented.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t actually do anything.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise that it was meant to be a secret,” Dana lowered her voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Tell them what? There’s nothing to tell.”

“No, of course. You didn’t do a thing,” said Dana, trying her hardest not to giggle. She leant in towards Dafne and whispered to her, “Seriously, though. Thank you.”

She left Dafne, who was looking at her in a very peculiar way, and made her way out of the library. As she was walking out of the door, she bumped into Dante Briarwood, who was on his way in.

“Oops, sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry,” Dante shook his head. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“That’s okay, neither was I,” replied Dana. “Oh, how did your Potions exam go on Friday, by the way? I didn’t have a chance to ask you about it with the whole bunny fiasco.”

“It went okay, I think. Bit of an issue with my Draught of Living Death, though.”

“Oh, no. What happened to it?”

“Not a clue, I put in all the right amounts of everything, but ended up with half the amount everyone else had. Honestly, you’d think someone had drunk some of it,” Dante pulled a face, before shrugging his shoulders and sighing. “Oh well, it looked like it was good enough quality, so I should still pass the exam. And if anyone did drink it… Well, they’ll wake up eventually.”

Dana giggled and left Dante to his studying, before leaving the library with a spring in her step, the bright morning sunshine glaring through the windows of the corridor outside.

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

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[night-fallz]

XY’s Muse

Based on this prompt

This is my first fanfic. Please let me know how bad it is. Any criticism will be welcome. No matter how harsh.

uploaded on 01/16/21

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Ao3 // Wattpad

next

Chapter 1

Marinette was just standing around, enjoying the music that Kitty Section was playing when she noticed XY sulking in the corner. Marinette couldn’t help but feel her face soften as she remembered the words his father, Bob Roth, said about him.

His talentless son. That's what Bob Roth called him. Talentless. Marinette might not like XY or his music. And she definitely did not agree with the method he used to obtain his music. But Marinette knows how he feels. She knows what it feels like to be humiliated in front of everyone, feeling like no one is on your side.

After all, this was the first year that Marinette actually had friends next to her. And it was all thanks to Alya. Marinette remembered how horrible and crushed she felt whenever Chloe did something against her. And she would hate it if other people felt the way she did. Even if that person did something horrible towards her.

Of course, the only exceptions were Hawkmoth and Lila.

So without even thinking about it, Marinette summoned her inner Ladybug and made her way towards XY.

Marinette smiled as she sat down in the seat next to him. "Hi, I'm Marinette." She paused before asking. Are you alright?"

Xy looked at her, surprised. He opened his mouth, about to say that he was fine. But stopped. He knew that he needed to talk to someone. So he muttered, "Not really." He faced the blue-haired girl, "I just can't believe my dad said. I know that he didn't know that he was on live TV, but he called me talentless. Do you know how much it hurts to be a musician, then be called talentless?"

Marinette slowly nodded. "I'm not a musician but I do want to be a fashion designer. It's a really competitive business and some people are brutal." Marinette frowned, wondering whether she should continue or not.

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to, you know," XY said, "I did steal your guy's song and costumes."

"Yeah, I know," Marinette frowned, her blue eyes studying him. "But I have a pretty good feeling that your dad made you do that." Marinette folded her arms and glared at him "Even though that's not a good enough excuse to take credit for something that other people worked hard on."

XY didn't say anything for a couple of seconds before playing with his hands nerveously. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry."

Marinette stopped glaring at him "I know." She said softly, "Plus, people do crazy things to get their parent's approval." Marinette heard Kitty Section playing their last song. "I better go soon," she said, grabbing her purse and standing up. "It was really nice talking to you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

XY was laying down on the hotel bed. It's been a few days since he talked to the blue-nette. With nothing else to do, he decided to take a walk.

Paris was a busy city. Even with the akuma attacks, tourism was better than ever. He walked around the city for a few minutes when he noticed Marinette go inside a bakery.

XY was bored so he did what every teenager would do when they see a pretty girl go inside a bakery.

He followed her.

XY smelt the baked pastries right when he entered the bakery. He looked around for Marinette and noticed her on the counter. He began walking towards her when she noticed him, she made a squeaky noise.

It only made her even cuter.

"XY" she muttered, "What are you doing here?"

He playfully looked at her, "To order something, duh".

Marinette gave him a small smile, "Okay, then. What would you like to order?"

He pointed at what he wanted and talked to her for a while.

Okay, maybe “a while” was an understatement.

XY waited until her shift was over and asked her if she wanted to take a walk around Paris.

With him.

She agreed and they hung out for hours before her parents texted her and told him that she had to get home. XY told her goodbye, before quickly blurting out "Can I have your number?" Marinette’s cheeks were red, "I mean because I like hanging out with you and stuff."

Marinette nodded. Not trusting her mouth. What were you supposed to say when a hot musician asked for your number? Marinette gave it to him, before running home.

XY Couldn't believe his luck. She actually gave him her number. He couldn’t help but smile before walking back to the hotel.

He couldn’t wait to text her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Tikki!" Marinette whispered as soon as she got to her room. "Did that just happen?"

Tikki flew around her, "Yes, Marinette” Tikki sighed. “That actually happened."

Marinette screamed into her pillow. "Chloe would be so jealous of me right now." Marinette scrunched her eyebrows before looking at the red kwami questioningly. "Do you think I should tell my friends about this?"

Marinette might not like Chloe but she has to admit that if Chloe was right about one thing, it was that XY was hot. Like really hot.

Plus, Marinette really liked the sweet and caring side he showed her. They opened up to each other today.

They could relate to each other with a lot of their problems.

Tikki looked at her chosen, "Maybe you should keep it a secret for now. We don't want the tabloids to hear about this."

Marinette winced, "Yeah, your right." She remembered the adventure she had with Adrien in her pajamas.

The media believed that they were dating and Marinette still got a ton of hate comments from it. It only got a little better when both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste denied the fact that both Adrien and Marinette were in a romantic relationship.

XY was easily one of the most well-known musicians right now. Not to mention, one of the most popular. Girls would faint if he so much even glanced at their direction. If the media somehow got the idea that both of them were dating, Marinette would probably get twice the hate she got on social media. And she could not handle that right now.

Especially not with Lila and Adrien around.

This is kinda like the prologue of the story. I don’t really like how this turned out but let me know if you want me to continue it.

1,038 words

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[burneddownthegym]

When do you think Buffy and Spike started developing feelings for each other? I think for Spike it started in season 2 which has been kind of confirmed by Dru, but what about Buffy? Their relationship seemed to change after Spike let Glory torture him to protect Dawn, but I like to believe Buffy had unregistered feelings for Spike way earlier. I don’t know what’s true though. She let him live many times when she shouldn’t and that could just be the writers wanting to keep Spike but it could also be read as Buffy not wanting to kill him for some reason. If I were Buffy I would have at least been attracted to him from the start but I’m not Buffy. What do you think?

oh god. i started writing this and it just got more and more unhinged until i was left with a novel. but here’s my headcanon under the cut.

i think for spike it started in season 2, yeah. kind of immediately. i mean in his second episode he already has like ten tv’s mounted on the ceiling to obsessively watch buffy fight? ok weirdo. obviously the writers weren’t planning on spuffy at the time but it all fits with the dru retcon in “fool for love”. i think any feelings he had were super repressed in him for a while though, and were probably closer to obsession than anything (where does one draw the line between obsession and love? much to think about!!). tbh, and maybe this is controversial, i kind of think it’s not until “intervention” that he really understands just how in love with her he is, or what it really means to be in love with her. he definitely thinks he’s in love, he has a raging, identity-crisis crush, but i don’t know, something just feels different after that episode. i feel like it’s when his feelings for buffy really become less about him and more about her. like, less about having her or wanting her to recognize him, and more about wanting to be what she actually needs. less about *loving* buffy and more about loving *buffy*, maybe. so even though his feelings before then are real, they feel real in a different way to me after “intervention”.

buffy is harder. personally, i don’t think she was ever consciously attracted to spike until maybe s5. (buffy being immediately attracted to him in fic is actually a huge pet peeve for me; it doesn’t feel in character at all and can even make me stop reading). i think there was latent attraction, but spike was just so far outside the bounds of who she thought she would be attracted to that it doesn’t register that way (reason #34095 spuffy is a lesbian ship, obv. also it’s why her being attracted to him immediately can turn me off in fic, bc it makes the relationship feel less gay, and that’s kind of important to me). i think she finds him tacky and annoying and lame and just not a sexual object. he’s a soulless vampire and you don’t sexualize those. and so anything sexual she felt toward him she dismissed the way you might dismiss a weird sex dream about someone you’d never want in real life (jane espenson apparently had notes on her desk pre-s5 saying buffy had sex dreams about him, which i totally buy, especially after “something blue”). i think one of the reasons she freaks out so bad in “crush” is that suddenly spike isn’t in the non-sexualizable category anymore. like, what, vampires and slayers are sexualizing each other now? like in real life not just innuendo? you broke the rules, what am i supposed to do now? it’s why she’s so weirded out when he tries to kiss her in “fool for love” and goes on about how people can’t love without a soul in “crush”. spike isn’t fitting his sexual category and she doesn’t know how to deal with it so she tries to stuff him back in. long story short, i think it’s only after “crush” that she actually consciously thinks about his attractiveness, because before then he just wasn’t someone on the table for her to think about that way.

(oh i should also add—i think spike’s “crush” moment with buffy is “who are you?” when faith comes onto him. because it was sort of a similar thing for him. even though he was attracted to buffy before that episode, it was something he repressed or treated as kind of a game. innuendo and eroticism as a battle tactic but not something you’d actually follow through on in real life. but he thinks buffy breaks the rules in “who are you?” and suddenly makes herself real-life sexualizable. so i think his attraction becomes more conscious after that, even if he’s still trying to act like it’s something that disgusts him, like buffy post-“crush”.)

(also, this is why it’s so easy to read violence and murder as sublimated desire in a gay way with spuffy. it’s not really about murder and violence. it’s about them expressing romantic/erotic desire within the bounds of what their roles allow, because they can’t conceive of each other in other roles.)

but i do think buffy did still have some sort of draw to spike before s5. i feel like instinctually she saw him as more of a person than other vampires pretty early. definitely not consciously, and definitely wasn’t love. but she talks to him like he’s a really annoying guy more than she talks to him like some sort of mindless enemy. she doesn’t bother telling other soulless vampires that she violently dislikes them, or mock them about their breakups. i think the only other soulless vampires she sort of treats that way are harmony and holden in cwdp, which makes sense since both of those are vampires she knew before they were vamped. she didn’t kill harmony either, and wasn’t excited about having to kill holden. but spike is the only “stranger” vampire she sees that way, and i think that’s interesting! i think a lot of her conflict over him is due to this too, tbh. he instinctually feels like both a person and not-a-person to her, and that’s hard for her to process.

i have zero canon to back this up, but i think the first time buffy kind of sort of falls in love with spike is in “the gift”, when he says he’d protect dawn until the end of the world. i mainly think this because i don’t think it can be understated how important dawn is to buffy, or how telling it is that she kisses spike in “intervention”. other people have said this, but she just doesn’t kiss people every time they do something nice for her. i don’t think she would have done that unless she felt some sort of latent *something* for him, and unless he’d done something that really deeply affected her. him being willing to sacrifice himself for dawn’s sake, or protect her above all, affects buffy first: because of how self-sacrificing she is. she’s always the one who has to die or put herself on the line for other people. and second: she’s the only one who cares about dawn the way she does. no one else goes into a coma or threatens giles or vows to protect her until the end of the world…except spike.

so the fact that spike would understand the self-sacrificial and protecting-dawn parts of her, or help her with them in the same unthinkingly committed way, when no one else is, i think hits her where she lives. he understands and is not just supporting, but *embodying* this hugely important thing to her at the time when it counts the most. so she falls a bit in love with him. maybe just a second, or a minute, and then she ignores it and saves the world. but that’s the first time it happens.

then as far as s6 goes, i pretty much take buffy at her word when she says she has feelings for him, but that they’re not love. i think she has really intense and confusing emotions around him and for him, but they just don’t cohere into something that could be called something clear-cut like love. and that’s sort of the tragedy of that season? it has all the potential and intensity and chemistry for love, but she doesn’t like or trust herself and she doesn’t trust him, and he isn’t in a place where he can understand the guilt and self-hate she’s going through, or be moral without her guidance, and so in a lot of ways her lack of trust really is justified. so it just can’t quite reach the realness of love, where you want and want to care for the other person’s whole self. but (adding this edit based on a comment by marinxttes!), i totally agree that a lot of her breakup with spike is about her feeling enough for him that it doesn’t feel right to use him anymore. i think that’s the decisive moment when she stops being confused about whether he is or isn’t a person (and whether *she* is or isn’t), and decides he is one. maybe not one she thinks she can love yet, but one she genuinely cares about doing right by, and that’s a huge shift.

i believe her in s7 too when dawn asks if she loves him and she says she feels for him. i don’t know when exactly that whole mess starts cohering into something that really is love for buffy, but i feel like it’s happening the whole season. like air condensing into water. all the pieces have been there, amorphously, for a long time, and finally they’re allowed to take form. so when she says “i love you” in “chosen”, it’s at once something new, and also something that’s been there all along.

[supercorpkid]

The price of magic.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2210.

Turns out the price of magic was higher than you had anticipated. You’ve been away for more than a year, but for your family it was nothing but a week. Sure they’ve missed you and they were out there looking for you with no clue of where you could have gone. But for you?

A year in Storybrooke was experiencing your life as you’ve always imagined. Being yourself in its totality. No Luthor name hanging over your head, no hiding yourself behind glasses or a red and blue superhero suit. It was being both Kryptonian and human at the same time, with no fear of judgment or dislike.

Storybrooke was like going on a super long vacation; so long it made you forget all of your problems. But that doesn’t mean that your problems went away. They came back as soon as you stepped foot in National City.

The price of magic was feeling guilty for being happier somewhere else. It was walking into your bedroom and feeling at home but also somehow not at all. It was walking around the craziness of National City and feeling suffocated like you’re in a crowded room full of empty faces. It was missing the words ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ when people were referring to you. It was having a crazy number of options of take-out food but wanting nothing except the food in Granny’s diner.

And you weren’t the only one to pay the price. You can feel how high it was for Kara and Lena too.

“Mom?” You sit up on the bed, looking at Lena standing in your bedroom watching you sleep. “What are you doing creeping over my bed at-” You look at your alarm clock. “3 in the morning?”

“I had to be sure you were still here.” Lena says, sounding small and scared.

“Mom, I’m not going to disappear from my bedroom in the middle of the night.” You say, trying to reassure her, but it backfires you.

“You can’t blame me for thinking that, because you did.” She holds your arm, and you hear the cry in her cracked voice.

“Would you feel better if you stayed here with me?” You make space for her. Lena hum in agreement, lying next to you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m even more.” She kisses the back of your hand. “A whole year without us. You were probably so scared we weren’t looking for you.”

“I knew you were.”

“You got so tall, and we weren’t even there to see it!” Lena complains and you give her a sad little smile, even though she can’t see your face at all in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Well, I chose a weird age to have a growth spurt .” You joke, but you don’t get a laugh in return. You sort of always knew when you would get taller. It was the same with Kara. You were always very anxious to turn 17, because that was the age she actually grew more. But the weird thing is that you’re not really 17 now. Like Kara is not really 70.

“Come here.” Lena hugs you and you settle back. You’re almost drifting off to sleep when she whispers. “Don’t ever leave again.”

You can’t promise that you won’t. Stranger things have happened in your life, you don’t really feel like you have control over that anymore. And weird as it may seem, you also don’t want to have control over that. Because if you had, if you could have chosen, you probably wouldn’t have met some of the people that you love so much now.

“Hey!” You walk in the kitchen, to both Kara and Lena still having breakfast despite how late already is. “What are you two doing?”

“Having breakfast.” Kara explains, like it isn’t obvious.

You look at the clock. “It’s nine.” You raise an eyebrow at them. “And it’s Monday.”

“Yes.” Lena agrees.

“On Mondays you go to work, and Kara does her usual Kara’ stuff.”

“You were gone for a week. Even if L Corp burned down in flames I wouldn’t leave your side today.” Lena answers you, and you smile softly. You look at Kara next.

“Oh, well, if L Corp was burning up in flames I probably would have to go to put out the fire.” She says but adds in a hurry. “But I would be here five seconds later!”

“Ok.” You chuckle. “I thought I would go see Jamie and Maya on their lunch break, but if you two want me to stay-”

“No! Baby, no. Go see your cousin and your girlfriend. They were missing you too.” Lena hands you your phone. “There’s a lot of texts from them.”

“Oh, a phone! God I haven’t had one in a while.” You smile scrolling through your messages, ignoring your moms questioning looks.

“So, maybe you could tell us how was your life there.” Kara asks, but you’re too distracted with your phone to notice. You haven’t used one in a while, not because there weren’t phones in Storybrooke, but because you didn’t need them. It was a super small city, you could find anyone easily, and because Emma and Charming were sheriffs, you all used radio transmitters to talk. “Hey? Little one, helloooo.”

“Sorry momma.” You put your phone down. “What did you say?”

“We want to know about your life there. I mean, for us it wasn’t that long, but for you it was a whole year. You probably did lots of things.” Kara says and you agree with your head.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug. “I used to help mom Emma out with the saving, and oh, mom Regina helped me with my panic attacks. And I’m a lot better at controlling them! Henry and I used to watch this awesome TV show that I probably won’t ever know how it ends now. And grandma taught me archery.”

“Oh, that sounds-” Lena thinks about it for a second. “Fun.”

“Yeah. It was so great. And every night all of us would get together at Granny’s diner and talk about our days, and sometimes I would go hang out with Belle in the library, so I read all the books there. And if I had stayed a little bit longer and turned 18 there, then grandpa would’ve taught me how to use a gun.”

“A little bit? It would’ve been a whole other year!”

“For me, I guess.” You shrug again. “Just another week for you. And I would’ve been cursed anyway, so it wouldn’t feel so bad.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Kara stops you, looking confused. “You wanted to stay?”

“No!” You think about it for a second. “Not stay. No. Just-you know-If I had perhaps stayed longer then yeah, it would’ve been fun to learn that.”

“You can learn how to use a gun here!” Kara says, and Lena furrows her brows.

“No, she can’t.” She looks at you. “No, you can’t. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Right. Moms wouldn’t let me touch a gun either.”

“We are your moms.” It’s out of Kara’s mouth like she hadn’t given much thought to it. But you know she has, because she looks stung. You’ve noticed how she flinched every time you referred to Regina and Emma as moms, but it’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself to think about it. For a year that’s what you’ve been saying every day. It’s hard to call them just anything else. Almost disrespectful even. But you don’t want to make Kara and Lena upset, so you have to watch out for that.

You try to say something after that. But it’s like your mind keeps erasing itself. ‘Ok, fine, sorry, sure you are momma!’ are all things that almost make it out of your mouth. Instead, you settle for, “Can I have some M&M pancakes?”

“Sure, babygirl.” Lena gets up and gets behind the counter. You go back to your phone, too embarrassed to look at Kara again. She doesn’t say anything about it either.

You talk about other things. They tell you how crazy it was to find you, and what they did all week while you were gone. Apparently it was mostly crying and blaming themselves for your disappearance.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To school. To see Jamie and Maya.”

“Where are your glasses?” Kara asks and you touch your face to realize that you haven’t been wearing them at all.

“Ugh.” You grunt and mumble right after. “I hate those stupid glasses. Can’t believe I have to wear them again.”

You run to your bedroom and find an old pair tossed around. Stupid disguise. Stupid glasses. Stupid secret identity.

“Ok. Can I go now?” You ask when you make it back to the living room.

Lena lets out a forced smile out of her lips, and Kara gives you the most awkward thumbs up in history. Well, there’s a lot to unpack there. So maybe leave it for later.

“Hey!”

“No way in hell!” It’s Jamie’s first response when she sees you in front of your old school. “You grew taller in a week?”

“Something like that.” You smile finally looking down on her. Rao, it feels so good to finally be taller than Jamie. You’ve been hearing about it for years! “Hey, babe.”

“Holy fuck, look at you!” Maya says with the biggest smile on her face. “I don’t see you for a week and you show up here looking like a superhero!”

“Well…” You give her a little side flirty smile. “Is that a good thing?”

“You look great, babe.” Maya’s arms go around your neck and she tiptoes to kiss your mouth. You hold her by the waist, making it easier for her to kiss you.

“God, I’ve missed kissing you.” You let out after you part your lips.

“It’s been a week, stop being so melodramatic.” Jamie rolls her eyes, and you smile, letting go of Maya to hug her too.

“I’ve missed you too, dipshit.”

“Oh.” Jamie lets out a surprised sound. “I guess you’re not so dramatic then.”

You want to tell them, right there, about how it was not just a week. About your different life in the past year. But the girls from your school who used to bully you pass right next to you, and your heart beats faster anticipating the teasing.

But they don’t say a thing. In fact, what they say after they pass you, and you catch using your super hearing, is that you must be a new student. You smile, relieved. Getting taller and cutting your hair. You wish you had known it would make your life a lot easier.

“Ice-cream?” You smile at them and get positive responses at that. Two hours with them and it feels like you’ve never left. Feels good to be with them. It makes you remember that even though your life in National City is not always easy, it’s still pretty great. And that you shouldn’t take that for granted.

You and Jamie walk Maya home, and you’re not even scared of her parents' reaction anymore. It’s not like they’ll recognize you, anyway. And later, you fly Jamie back to her house. You say a quick hello to Alex and Kelly, then fly back home.

“Hey.” You throw yourself on the couch between your moms, with a smile on your face. You look at the box of donuts in front of them, just sitting there waiting for you to arrive and your smile grows wider. “Sorry I was gone for a while. But can I make it up to you both with some hugs and forehead kisses?”

“Oh! Me first!” Kara asks and you smile, throwing your arms around her, and resting your chin on her shoulders.

“You’re my mommy. No one will ever take that away from you.” You whisper in her ear, and feel Kara’s body fully relax in your embrace, while she lets out a relieved sigh.

“I love you more than words can explain it, kid.” You smile and let her go a little, just to look into her eyes.

“I know the words.” You rest your forehead against hers and smile. “You’re my heart.”

“You’re my heart, little one.”

“Can I get a sweet moment like this too?” Lena asks and you chuckle, pulling her close for a tight hug.

“You also don’t have to worry about anyone taking your place.” You say softly in her ear. “You carried me inside of you for nine months, and I’ll carry you inside of me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh God.” Lena says, choking up and wetting the back of your t-shirt with her tears. “I swear this is the loveliest thing someone has ever told me.”

“It’s true.” You smile and kiss her forehead right after. “I love you mom.”

“Oh, I love you, babygirl.”

“And we’re stronger together.” You say, and feel their arms go around you at the same time, in a family hug.

Sure you will miss being called ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’, but nothing beats being called ‘little one’ and ‘babygirl’. And nothing ever will. National City may not make you feel as good as Storybrooke did, but the people here surely make up for that.

[bakubros-boo-thang]

Thirty seconds: Cameras & Caramel

Bakugou x ‘model’ reader

Warnings: cursing, sfw, mentioning of body type

Quirk: Stopping time ( limited time and limited amount of people)

Summary: When your roommate kinda pushes fate at your doorstep you end up in bed with Bakugou. That wouldn’t be so bad, except for the pervy director, the spotlights and the fact that you are definitely not used to model. Atleast you can make sure you get your 30 seconds of peace....

Art by : Chocalicia

Bakugou hated these types of things. He knew that being a hero on the rise meant that he had to grow his fanbase. He HAD to be known. He had to show up at random places, on billboards, in magazines and on tv. Not just for the live broadcastings if his fights, but also in random commercials.

He hated those commercials most. With magazines it was just a picture, a second of pretending. With commercials you had to pretend for longer. Professional models were at least professional about it, but those aspiring ones were trying so hard to get more out of the shoot than just a paycheck. They probably went into the shoot just for him. It would be a lie if he never ended up next to a stranger because of that. He had a busy schedule and sometimes he was touch starved. Those moments were the only moments his “work” and private life were combined. The rare private life he had.

You on the other hand had no idea what you were up to. You never wanted to be a model, so you weren’t. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When searching for a “plus-sized” model in the middle of Tokyo you -a foreigner- stood out and when asked for a one time job, you had politely declined until your roommate had said: “You are here for that once in a lifetime moment, get out of your comfort zone, fuck the insecurities and experience that moment”. So here you were. Wearing a sleeveless top and black sleeping shorts. Laying in a fake bed, on a fake set, bright spotlight hurting you eyes and with a blanket only covering your ass and barely covering your boobs (which looked nude bc of the illusion). Since your friend pushed you to do this, she was the one who did all the talking. You just knew that you were supposed to lay like this, act shocked by your male counterpart and needed to smell his perfume. Something about “Comforting and sexy.” It was a stupid catchphrase. You had been living in Japan for a couple months, studying quirks.... you had only chosen that major, because of your own struggle with your quirk and had no real goal with the study, but the chance to finish up the course in Japan was something you couldn’t pass up. Since Japan was the country with the most development of quirks, it was the perfect choice. You worked a part-time job as a barista on the side and you couldn’t complain. But when you saw him you definitely wanted to complain. The first thing you noticed was the spiky blond hair, then his red piercing eyes and since you didn’t want him to catch you staring at his abs, you decided to use your quirks. The room was filled with eight people including the two of you so it wasn’t that difficult to do. And so you just paused everyone. You knew that you could only keep it up for thirty seconds at most, but in those seconds you could take a good look at him. At the bored expression he had, the way he was only wearing low hanging jeans and those rock-hard abs. You had barely fifteen seconds left to just readjust yourself one last time, trying to ignore your insecurities and give yourself the ultimate poker face, you laid in the position. Time went back on an nobody seemed to have noticed the missing seconds. Bakugou definitely looked slightly confused, which didn’t stop him from walking towards you and yelling to no one in particular: “Let’s get this shit over with, I have things to do.” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “Okay let’s get this thing right in the first take. Bakugou you just came home from a long patrol, you walk over to your s/o who is all curled up in bed and you give her a kiss on her cheek, she wakes up smelling your neck and realizes that you still smell like our cologne. She pulls you towards her and then it’s CUT, since we need to keep this safe for work right? We will film the solo clips of you after this scene. Ready? ACTION.”

Bakugou walked towards you. His face looked kind, maybe even loving in some cocky way though. Confidence was more the right word. You quickly close your eyes knowing you have to be ‘asleep’. 20 seconds later your eyes still haven't opened up, Bakugou was supposed to kiss you awake right? “DUMBASS WHY AREN’T YOU DOING YOUR DAMN JOB.” You couldn’t even respond, he scared you with the way he talked, of course you had heard of him. The hero with the terrible temper, but still experiencing it first-hand kinda sucked. “I... I... I didn’t....” The director cut you off. “CUT, let’s try it again.” Bakugou had already gone back to reshoot the scene. “ACTION.” He walked towards you again. This time you knew the camera would only focus on your face when he ‘kissed’ your cheeks, which he wasn’t planning on actually doing. You didn’t know whether it was him being respectful or him hating you, but it really annoyed you so you decided to give him a little payback. As he faked kissing your cheek you decided to use your quirk and pause only him. You didn’t touch his lips. You did however smell him. He didn’t smell like that disgusting cologne. He smelled like sweat and something burning. A light caramel smell. It was intoxicating. You had forgotten that you had only paused him, so the rest of the crew saw Bakugou standing over you with pouted lips not moving at all. When you realized that you were still pausing him, you quickly released the quirk and here he was all flustered, confused and definitely annoyed at himself for losing his cool. You felt a little guilty, but on the other side this was his payback. No one said anything about the rising hero’s pouted lips though, not wanting to trigger the hero’s anger. “Let’s just try it once more. Action.” Before Bakugou walked back to his starting point he whispered “ err... sorry for acting so creepy. I... I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Now you DID feel horrible. You had to make sure this take worked out.

He walked over to you and actually kissed your cheek. You let go of all your insecurities, ‘Opened’ your eyes and you smiled at him with a smile full of love (mostly due to the fact that you were still intoxicated by his smell and of course his good looks, and maybe that apology did kinda make him seem... likeable), you once again smelled his neck which was far from punishment and the rest was just natural to you. Pushing your hands over to his neck and pulling him in felt amazing. Seeing him lay next to you felt even better and even he couldn’t help but to give you a tiny smile. Probably because you were radiating so much happiness. (Which was definitely not because you were such a good actor). “CUT. This was perfect, there is just one little thing I want to add, but give me two minutes before I explain. You can stay in your positions.” Bakugou looked at you. Just now noticing the way you looked naked. “Are you comfortable like that?” He asked. “Err... not really, but probably because this is my first time doing this.” He clicked his tongue “Tsk you’re not a model?” You shrugged “Nope just a regular barista who’s roommate forced her to end up in this weird commercial for err... cologne right?” Bakugou chuckled, “Yeah goddamn awful cologne.” You couldn’t help but agree. “They made me smell a tester, you definitely didn’t smell like that, fortunately.” He raised his eyebrow “How did I smell then, extra?” But his “extra” didn’t sound as threatening as it usually sounded in the fight videos on his Youtube page. It sounded more like a dare, but before you got the chance to explain the director already started explaining his new idea. “ I know we are not supposed to do anything not safe for work, but sex still sells, so we will just plant a seed.” He couldn’t help but give you a pervy look that made you feel sick to your stomach. “Only thing you two should do is end up under the covers, that's it. Action!” He continued.

“WHAT THE HELL, DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GO UNDER THE BLANKET WITH HER?!” Bakugou screamed. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. You barely knew him, but still hearing him get so angry for having to look at you and sharing that small space with him, definitely did hurt.

“Bakugou, why are you being difficult?” The director sighed. “ Look how you made her look, this girl has never been on a set and you already made her lay nude under a blanket, expecting me to go under that blanket. I’m not a FUCKING PERVERT GODDAMIT!” He was looking so angry, but you had to tell him. You slightly tapped his shoulder. “WHAT?!” He screamed. “Err... Bakugou...” You lifted up the blanket. “I’m not naked.” You couldn’t help but notice the quick scan he gave your body. You couldn’t blame him, especially since you had done the same. “Oh well, still you shouldn’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” You gave him a tiny smile. “Don’t worry I trust you, it’s only for a second right.” He couldn’t help it. You intrigued him. The way you made him forget what he was doing (literally), the way you were sooo out of place, but still seemed to enjoy your time here and the way you just talked to him. “Alright let’s go then ACTION.” And the crew just knew Bakugou’s “action” was just as valid as the director’s.

You continued with the loving looks. Bakugou’s smile was a lot bigger than before, “He can really act.” You thought to yourself. And while you were still holding his neck in your arms, he grabbed the blanket and put it over the two of you in a swift move. Now you were surrounded in the dark. The only thing you could see were his red eyes. “Thanks for making me feel at ease today Bakugou. It was nice of you being cautious whether you should kiss me. Err... I mean kiss my cheek.” You stammered quickly, knowing that this conversation could only take a few seconds. “ No problem Dumbass. I’m still cautious though..” his face was closer now. “About what?” You let out. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, feeling your breathing stagger and your hands getting sweaty. “About whether I should kiss you right now. You’re probably too nervous with everyone around right?” How had he known that you wanted to kiss him? You felt humiliated, but still you had a ace up your sleeve. “Don’t worry about that, I already paused everyone.” You said with a smirk. “WAIT A MINUTE, you DAMN extra were the one to pau...” but he couldn’t finish his sentence. You had already put your lips on his and he had already forgotten all about his anger. That day you found out that you could use your quirk to a much longer extent than 30 seconds.

Authors note: Just a quick story I came up with. Hope you enjoyed it and would appreciate a reblog💚

[angelsfalling16]

Sometimes All I Think About Is You

Part of the 20 First Kisses Series

Summary: Baz loses a bet with Dev and Niall and has to wear a uniform skirt for a week, and it makes Simon act so crazy. He can’t handle that much of Baz's legs, and he's determined to prove that Baz is using it as a distraction from whatever he's plotting.

Word Count: 3068

A/N: This was based on this prompt that was sent to @carryonprompts. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a few days since I saw it, and I finally got the chance to sit down and write it today. (And of course, it fit perfectly as a 20fk fic :))

The title is from the song "Heat Waves" by Glass Animals

Read it on ao3

***

Simon

There’s a blast of magic, and the doors to the dining hall slam open.

This is a pretty regular occurrence, and everyone is pretty used to it by now, which means that I am one of the few people who look up to see who it is.

Baz walks in through the doors, sneering at Dev and Niall who follow him in. The two of them look like they’re about to burst into laughter at any moment while Baz has a near-murderous look on his face. (It’s an expression I know well.)

I’m not sure why the three of them look like that until my eyes fall down to Baz’s outfit for the day.

“What the hell?” I gasp.

“What did Baz do this time?” Penny asks in a bored tone, not even bothering to look up from

“Look,” I whisper.

She turns, and I use the moment to take in what Baz is wearing. He’s wearing his usual Watford blazer, but rather than his neatly pressed slacks, he has chosen to pair it with the pleated grey skirt that is usually reserved for the girls who choose to wear them.

Somehow, he manages not to look completely ridiculous. I would almost venture to say that he looks good in it. (Of course he does, the bastard. He doesn’t look bad in anything.)

His legs seem to stretch for miles beneath the too-short skirt that barely hits him mid-thigh, and I can’t seem to stop staring at them.

I’ve seen Baz’s legs before, of course. I mean he wears shorts all the time when he’s playing football, but this is different. I’m not supposed to be able to see his legs right now, so it feels wrong in a way. Yet, I can’t seem to look away.

“Hm. Interesting fashion choice,” Penny says, turning back to her breakfast. “I guess there aren’t any rules against the boys wearing skirts since they’re technically still in dress code.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird.”

“How?”

“I—. I don’t kn-know.” I shrug. I guess it’s just different than what I’m used to. But different isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was just a shock to see him dressed like that. “I guess it’s not. It’s just surprising.”

My eyes follow Baz around the room as he grabs some food and sits down at his table, snickers following him as he walks. From Dev and Niall. No one else seems to really care how Baz decided to dress today.

I try to pretend not to care either, turning back to my own food, but I can’t stop my gaze from wandering over to Baz.

***

I can’t keep my eyes off of Baz the rest of the day either, no matter how hard I try. There’s just something about the way he looks in that skirt that has my eyes glued to him, and it takes my full attention to try to figure it out.

Finally, as I stumble through the lesson in our final class of the day, I figure it out.

Baz is plotting something, and he’s wearing the skirt to throw me off his trail. He wants me focused on what he’s wearing instead of whatever it is that he’s planning. It almost worked, too. I haven’t been able to think about much except that skirt.

I mentally shake myself, feeling foolish. I almost let Baz trick me. If he had managed to keep me distracted, he could have gotten away with whatever he wanted.

Now, I absolutely cannot take my eyes off of him. I have to follow him and figure out his nefarious plan.

***

I follow Baz around for the next several days, and he keeps wearing that skirt, trying to distract me. But I won't let him get away with it. I will figure out what he’s up to and stop him.

Currently, it’s Friday afternoon, and I haven’t stopped watching since the moment he walked into the dining hall for tea. (Without blasting the doors open this time.)

“I know he’s up to something,” I murmur, more to myself than to Penny, but she responds anyway.

“Simon, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but you’re being an idiot.”

“What?” I ask, so shocked that I tear my eyes off of Baz in order to look at her.

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe he just likes wearing a skirt and that’s why he’s doing it?”

I consider this possibility briefly and silently acknowledge that she has a point, but, “It can’t be that simple. There has to be something more to it.”

“Why?” She asks, sounding exasperated.

“Because it’s Baz. He is always planning something. He’s just trying to distract me,” I explain to her for the third time in just as many days.

She sighs, like she’s giving up on me. “Fine. But consider this: your obsession with Baz’s skirt has nothing to do with the fact that he might be plotting something.”

“What do you mean? What else would it have to do with?”

She shakes her head. “Only you can answer that, and I think it will be better if you figure it out on your own.”

I frown, confused. I don’t have any idea what Penny is on about. The only reason I’m watching Baz so much is to stop his wicked plots.

...Right?

I look over to his table, but he’s gone. He must have left while I was talking to Penny, which means he’s on his way to football practice and is probably changing into his football shorts at this moment.

There’s a weird pang in my chest, almost like disappointment, but I know that can’t be right. Why would I be disappointed by Baz taking off the skirt?

I wouldn’t. What Penny said is just messing with my head.

I quickly finish my tea and scones and rush out the doors to follow Baz. I can’t let him out of my sight.

 Baz

I cannot wait until this dare is over. I’m not sure that I can handle another minute of Simon’s watchful gaze following me everywhere I go. It has gotten worse this week, and I swear I’m going to suffocate under the weight of all of his attention.

Everyone else in the school got over me wearing this skirt after the first day – or rather, the first hour, but Simon seems to be getting more interested in it with every second that passes. I don’t understand why he cares so much. It’s just a skirt.

Luckily, there are only a couple more hours left of this ridiculous dare.

Dev and Niall agreed to let me change out of the skirt during football practice only if I immediately put it back on and wore it all the way through dinner and until I went up to my room for the night. (I can’t even begin to imagine what Coach Mac would have said if I had shown up to practice in a skirt.)

I already got enough attention from the skirt the first time I wore it. Everyone’s eyes were on me as I walked around the school in it. No one dared say a word to me about it, though. Probably because they knew that I wouldn’t hesitate to blast them away with just a few words and flick of my wand.

Now, as I head to the library after dinner, I tug at the skirt self-consciously, glad that I only have to wear this until after dinner. I can’t believe that I actually agreed to this bet. Or that I lost. Or that Dev just had this skirt lying around in his wardrobe.

“No questions,” he said as he handed it to me. I raised my eyebrows at him but said nothing.

I had to spell the skirt to fit me, but it wasn’t too far off from my own size. The only thing I didn’t change was the length. Most girls wear their skirts longer, but if I’m going to go through with this dare, I’m keeping the skirt exactly how Dev had it. I won’t lie, I’m curious as to where Dev might have gotten it, but I respect his privacy enough not to bother him about it.

I wish I could say the same for everyone else.

I’d probably be staring at me, too, because it’s so different from what I usually wear at school, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not annoyed. There is one person’s eyes on me that is particularly getting to me.

From the moment I stepped into the dining hall on Monday, Snow’s eyes have tracked my every moment. He was so shocked by my appearance that his mouth fell open, and he stared at me for a full minute before Bunce said something to him.

Ever since then, I have felt him following me, closer than ever before, and he looks like he wants to say something. He hasn’t yet, and I’m unsure what is holding him back. Even though I’ve been doing my best to avoid him, there have been several moments when he could have corned me and said whatever he wanted.

I am relieved he hasn’t, though, because I am simply not in the mood to listen to him make fun of me. Especially since if this weren’t so against the social norm, I might feel inclined to dress like this a little more often.

Simon Snow is the last person I want to hear making fun of me for wearing something that makes me feel more like myself than anything else.

 Simon

“Would you please stop drooling over Baz’s legs and focus. You were the one who wanted to study today.”

“I’m not drooling!” I say defensively, my voice a little too loud for the library.

“You’re like two minutes away from it. You haven’t stopped staring at his legs all day.”

She gives me this look that leaves absolutely no room for argument, so I press my lips tightly together and turn my attention back to my notes. We have an important exam coming up, but I can’t focus, not with Baz sitting over there dressed like that.

I have to confront him about it. Ask him what he’s plotting.

Finally, I’ve had enough, and when Baz gets up to go in search of a book, it’s the perfect opportunity.

I stand and Penny sighs but doesn’t say anything. This is likely paired with one of her signature eye rolls, but I can’t bring myself to look her in the face right now, so I don’t know for sure.

I watch Baz disappear between the stacks and follow after him.

Maybe I’ll actually be able to get him alone this time. I’ve been trying to talk to him all day, but I didn’t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, and I could never get him alone.

I find him towards the back of the library and realize that I never actually figured out what I would say to him once I finally got the chance to talk to him, and my mind goes blank as my eyes once again fall to the skirt he’s wearing.

“What the hell are you doing?” I blurt.

Well, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

 Baz

Simon’s exclamation startles me, but I go very still in the hopes that he won’t notice. I didn’t even know he was in the library. I thought I would be safe from him here, but sure enough, when I turn around, he’s standing behind me with an intense expression.

“What do you mean?” I sneer, trying to play it cool.

“I know you’re plotting something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He takes a step closer to me, and my heart starts racing. My cheeks flush, too, and I’m not really sure why.

Simon’s eyes drop to my skirt as if that’s answer enough, and I’m pretty sure his own cheeks go a little red as stares at me.

That’s interesting, I think.

“You know, Snow, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do is say so.” I say it just to see how he’ll react. To test something.

He really is blushing now and stutters out a bunch of sounds that don’t make up any real words.

He doesn’t hit me, though. He doesn’t even deny it. His pale skin just keeps getting redder until it looks like all of the blood in his body might be in his face. It’s kind of cute but also confusing. Why is he reacting like this?

“That’s not—. I mean—. What are you planning?” He says, trying to sound fierce, but in reality, he just sounds nervous. It truly is interesting.

“Nothing. I just like wearing skirts.” I tell him the truth only because I know he won’t believe it.

He growls at me and takes another step forward. I try to back away from him, not trusting what I might do if he gets too close to me, but I bump into a shelf and have been effectively cornered by him.

“You’ve got me where you want me,” I say, a little too breathily. “Now, what?”

He shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it’s at me or himself. He doesn’t say anything, just takes another step forward until we’re mere inches apart.

I glance around us, but we’re all alone. He has me trapped, and I don’t even mind. Even if he were about to kill me, I don’t think I’d stop him. I might kiss him first, but I wouldn’t mind dying with Simon Snow this close to me.

A long moment stretches out between us as we stand like this, practically staring each other down. Then, his eyes move to my mouth then my skirt then back to my face, and I try not to shift under his gaze, try not to care.

But then something shifts in his expression, and he starts to lean in closer until our lips are a breath apart.

Simon

Maybe this is what Penny meant earlier.

I wasn’t obsessed about Baz wearing a skirt because I thought he was plotting something. It was because I was attracted to him in it.

Once that thought enters my mind, it’s like everything else seems to click into place.

The skirt isn’t the only thing attracting me to Baz. I’ve felt this way about him before, I just always buried it and threw myself into figuring out what he was plotting.

But it was always so much more than that.

I watch Baz a lot. The way he casts spells, using his magic so effortlessly. The way he pushes his out of his sparkling grey eyes when it comes loose from its slicked back state. The way his hair almost starts to curl when he gets out of the shower. The way he smiles when he thinks no one is watching, like he is truly happy.

The thoughts and realizations keep circling in my mind until I realize that I desperately want to kiss him.

I start to lean forward but stop, wondering if I’m making a mistake. What if Baz doesn’t want this?

 Baz

Simon hesitates briefly, meeting my eyes, like he’s waiting for me to tell him no or push him away, but I’m not going to stop him. I don’t have that kind of willpower.

I nod at him, and that’s all it takes for him to close the distance between us.

His lips press to mine softly at first then more firmly once he realizes I’m really not going to stop him. I can’t stop the sigh that escapes me as he kisses me like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

I kiss him back slowly, afraid that this is all a dream, but it’s not. It’s so utterly real. Simon Snow is kissing me.

With that thought, I put everything I have into the kiss, tilting my head to deepen it and putting my hands on his hips to deepen the kiss.

It feels weird to feel Simon against my bare leg. I mean, it feels weird to have him this close in general, but also, it feels nice.

He’s so warm, and I didn’t realize that I had been freezing all day with my legs uncovered until Simon’s natural body heat starts to warm me up.

I smile into the kiss as one of his hands finds its way into my hair, tangling there. His other hand slides down my side until he reaches the edge of my shirt and hem of the skirt. He stops there, like he’s found exactly what he was looking for.

Damn, I think, pulling back to catch my breath, if I had known that wearing a skirt would get this reaction from Simon, I might have worn one a lot sooner.

Apparently I say that last bit out loud because Simon agrees. “You should. It looks better on you than anyone else.”

I feel all of the blood in my body rise to my face in a deep blush, and I kiss Simon again in the hopes that he won’t notice how pleased I am by his words.

I have never told anyone how dressing in girl’s clothes really makes me feel, so it makes me feel elated to hear Simon say he likes it.

This isn’t the first time I’ve tried on a skirt, but it’s the first time I’ve worn one in front of other people. Which is why I accepted the bet. And why I intentionally lost. I wanted to try it out. I wanted to see how other people might react while being able to say that I didn’t have a choice if things didn’t go too well.

This week has given me hope, though. It made me feel like I could dress like this more often if I wanted to. And maybe I really will.

I don’t think I would want to dress like a girl all the time or that I want to be a girl, but occasionally dressing like this makes me feel really good. It feels right.

I kiss Simon harder, happy that I can be myself and be allowed to kiss him when I never thought I would be able to do either of those things.

[angelicmichael]

Imminient Annihilation sounds so dope - Chapter Ten

Michael Langdon X Reader

Summary: Reader and Michael continue to work through their issues and finally start to warm up to each other even further. 

Words: 5.9k+ …oops

Warnings: just normal IA warnings (swear words, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, enemies to lovers, slowburn, etc) anddd maybeee a bit of fluff 👁

A/N: hey guys! Sorry I haven’t updated this in a few months but hopefully this is satisfactory hehe. This chapter is kinda a turning point in the fic so I hope u guys like it!! Also I watched Jennifer’s Body as I finished this so.. do what u must w that information 😌 djdjd

Previous Chapter

Rain was never something you were accustomed too. Spending so much time in Los Angeles had made you partially spoiled when it came to the weather - which is why you knew immediately your day was going to be shit when you woke up to rain.

You tried to convince yourself that the emotions you were feeling weren’t complete disdain but rather just a pessimistic version of indifference.. or that’s what you hoped anyway.

You knew realistically that your day wasn’t already doomed before it even started; and that the rain was nothing more than a mere inconvenience.. However; you still felt justified in complaining, considering today was the day you were ripping the band-aide off and moving in to the apartment Michael had oh so graciously chosen to give you.

Your pessimistic mood surrounding the entire situation was inevitable, and that was something you didn’t even bother to resist or fight. It didn’t take long for your thoughts to quickly go south as you quickly packed. Hatred that seemingly came out of nowhere (but that you realistically knew was only temporarily dormant) wasted no time in blinding your judgement - making you feel a nearly nauseating amount of jealousy and anger for people who actually seemed to be fucking happy in their relationships and werent forced into.. whatever shitty living situation you knew you were bound to find yourself in.

An apartment with no strings attached was way too fucking simple, and you knew it was too good to be true. You knew you were basically walking into a trap, and for what reason were you doing that so willingly? Just so that maybe Michael could start to tolerate you? You resented yourself for even agreeing to this but you also understood you really had no other option.

However; personal feelings aside.. you still had a mission to accomplish. You still had to attempt to seduce Michael, and even though you were doing a shit job at that so far - you still had to try. You knew realistically it was only a matter of time before Cordelia would ask about the progress you've made, and you would have to tell her something.

You had to do this.

That's why you were (semi) blindly choosing to move in to a building you knew you absoluetly couldnt afford; and why you were sucking up your pride and choosing to become semi reliant on Michael.

No one from the coven knew, and for the time being you intended to keep it that way. After all, even though Mallory didnt exactly know that Michael gave you a whole ass fucking apartment - your sure she probably suspected that something important happened between you and Michael just from the short conversation you three harbored together. But for the time being, you didnt have to worry about that. You had bigger things that were on your mind.. like the actual apartment door itself that you currently stood in front of.

You held the keys limply in your hand, your bag slumped next to you as you procrastinated something as fucking simple as opening a door. How pathetic.

You continued to stall in the hallway regardless - thankful there was no one passing through to witness how ridiculous you looked. Your gaze fell south down to your keys which were cold in your hand. Dripping slowly with the subtle rainwater that managed to linger on them, along with the rest of your clothes.

Your skin stung from the cold that seemed stubborn to leave, and a nice change of clothes and a hot shower wouldnt be the absolute worst thing in the world..

Fuck.

You bit your lip in order to prevent letting the profanity from rolling off your tongue. Quickly getting a better grip on the keys (which only made you somehow colder) and numbly, hastily unlocking the door.

You pushed it open, letting the door hit the wall and taking a few steps inside before dropping your bag to the floor.. as well as your jaw.

No words could possibly convey how you felt as you noticed how the room was already illuminated with not only natural light from the already huge windows you could see.. but also with a warm, yellow artificial glow.

Was someone already here?

What the fuck?

The hatred and resentment you previously felt toward others earlier rapidly started to return - except this time it was targeted at one very specific person.

It didnt even register in your mind that the light could've been left on by accident or that people besides Michael actually existed that could be present in the room but.. you didnt care. Anger was the only emotion that was solely present in your body as you fully abandoned your bag by the door. Advancing forward; and only feeling more shock and disbelief with every step you took at the thought that he could very possibly be in (what was supposed to be) your space.

"Michael, I swear to God-"

"Y/n?” said a soft, feminine voice.

It was practically automatic how you froze. Just getting close enough to notice that it wasn’t Michael after all that was on your bed in your new studio apartment, but a woman sat on your bed instead.

For about two seconds, you were scared it was Madison but.. that was a stupid assumption within itself. The company you were with was from a far different nature than of which Madison was, even though at first glance the two woman might look or sound similar. There were so many qualities that distinguished Mallory from Madison. Brown, auburn hair.. dark eyeshadow.. and her classic black boots. It didn’t take long for your anger to fade away as you tried to not think about how logically this still didn’t make sense - walking closer to your bed anyway.

"How did you get in here? And since when did you ever break into peoples rooms?" You asked with a laugh.

Mallory echoed your laugh back, seemingly watching you and your behavior. As if she was expecting you to do something or to act a certain way.. like perhaps leave.

"I didnt break into your apartment but.. you should probably sit down." She spoke, before nodding off to her side. Nonverbally suggesting you to sit next to her.

You did as you were told. Noticing briefly before you sat down how nice the apartment actually was.. including the bed.

The walls, and most of everything in the apartment was a solid black. It looked sleek, and even though black paint made most rooms look small - the natural light helped keep things looking open which you appreciated. It was no surprise that the bed matched the dark theme too. The sheets were silky, black satin. You almost laughed at how comfortable the bed was once you sat next to Mallory, the entire situation was so ridiculous it nearly hurt for you to not laugh out loud. The two of you sat in the silence for a moment.. you were each incredibly anxious, that was more than apparent.

You looked up at Mallory, expecting her to speak first and explain herself since after all.. shes the one who broke into your apartment but she still remained quiet.. Stalling, you could only guess.

"So, why are you here? How did you even get in here? Is everything okay?" You asked, your words speedy and rushed.

Panic started to temporarily set in when you realized that something could be serisouly wrong with the coven, even though you knew how completly irrational it was to think that way with no evidence. What if witch hunters found them? What if someone preformed the seven wonders and it went wrong? What if the plan had suddenly changed with Michael?

Mallory seemed to pick on how anxious you suddenly were, putting a hand on your upper arm before making you meet her gaze. Her soft, hazel brown eyes immeadietly making your breathe slow. That was another reason you were so thankful for Mallory - the soothing, calming effect she seemed to have on everyone she met was something you never took for granted.. Espically now.

"Hey, nothing's wrong and nothing happened. I promise. I just wanted to see you and talk to you, and I figured we should catch up after Michael basically made me leave," Mallory explained.

You quickly nodded. Feeling guilt start to creep into your system once you remembered how Michael previously treated her.

"Yeah, youre right. I've been wanting to see you anyway and I'm sorry I didnt just call you last night or something.. and I know I cant control him but I'm still sorry for how Michael treated you. I shouldn't have brought you into that-"

"(Y/n), stop," Mallory said urgently. Shaking her head slightly in disagreement with your words. "Sure, Michael was acting like a dick but.. it's nothing I'm not exactly accustomed too. It was harmless," she ended her words with a smile. One that was meant to comfort you both at the epiphany her words brought.

You sat with her words for a moment. The realization suddenly hitting you like a truck-

"Wait.. what? Do you know Michael?"

Mallory fell completely silent. Looking at you almost in a.. guilty manner. Her gaze fell downwards before she looked up to meet yours once more, licking her lips anxiously before she uttered out a quiet reply.

"I wasnt going to tell you because I knew it would make you upset but.. Michael called me last night-"

"And you answered?" Your voice raised up a few octaves unwillingly. Threatening to break as you tried to process what you were hearing.

As much as you wanted to immeadietly jump to conclusions, you had to remind yourself that this was Mallory you were talking too. Your best friend, Mallory. You knew she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

You noticed Mallory was also starting to get tense. Her spine suddenly a bit too straight and her shoulders were rigid. It was nice to know you werent the only person in this situation who was feeling this way, although you would be lying if you were to say that you werent curious for why Mallory felt tense.

"At first, no but he kept calling so I figured it would cause no harm to see what he wanted so, I answered," Mallory said cautiously.

It was obvious she had more to say and as much as you wanted her to keep talking and fully explain herself - you were more than happy that you didnt have to cut her off again. It was too much. This was too much.

You pinched the bridge of your nose before loudly exhaling with a shallow growl. Not really caring that it probably was coming off like you were mad at Mallory when in reality, that wasn’t the case. Mallory wasn’t the problem; you were really just beyond fucking pissed at Michael.

But at this point.. that wasnt new news.

"I told him that we shouldnt be talking, but he insisted," Mallory continued with a shrug.

You tried to sit up straight again; trying to exhale some of the pure fucking anger that was currently coursing through your system. Your vision was spotted black when you opened your eyes - your gaze pointed upwards at the smooth, blank ceiling. Quickly wishing that you were anywhere else, or really anyone else at the moment.

What you wouldnt kill to swap bodies again.. but then again, who knows what the hell Michael was currently doing at the moment.. He couldnt be trusted.

That was more than obvious now.

You should've known that he would contact Mallory, but how he even got her number was beyond you.. Unless-

"How did he even get your number?" You asked. Your tone strikingly calm.

Mallory looked incredibly spooked when your head suddenly snapped over to look at her. As if she was worried you were angry at her still, and as much as you wanted to reassure her otherwise, you really didnt have the energy to do so anymore. Not at the moment anyway.

"You can't be mad when I tell you the answer, okay?" She said softly.

Your features immeadietly softened at her words. The rest of your body relaxed as well; your shoulders dropping and your jaw unclenching.

"Mallory, I could never be mad at you. You could never piss me off, i'm just.. frustrated at Michael. It's not at you, I swear," you said. Trying your best to make your words sound reassuring and genuine.

Mallorys reaction wasnt one that was verbal but immeadite nonetheless. Her arms suddenly shot out and wrapped themselves around you. Her body temporarily pressing into yours as your hands went to her back, before she quickly broke the hug.

"Promise?" Mallory prompted. Brown eyes looking diligently into yours.

"Yeah.. I promise. Just tell me what that idiot did,” you said halfheartedly.

"So.. I've had his number for a while. Not for too long but just since you two switched. But, we never really talked," Her voice stalled as she watched your reaction. Your mouth grew dry as you really tried to let it sink in that they've known eachother since- well for atleast a week. "But I knew immeadietly that it wasnt you.. that day. I'm sorry I lied, but Michael made me promise."

"Why didnt you just tell me?"

Mallory looked at you in a guilty manner. Her lips pursing shut as she looked solemnly at her shoes, avoiding eye contact. You knew exactly why she was being quiet - she didnt want to admit why she had lied but.. the answer was pretty obvious.

Even though Mallory was one of the strongest witches - almost stronger than Cordelia on some days, she still was scared of Michael and that was nothing worth holding a grudge over. After all he was still the antichrist, no matter how (mostly) harmless and idiotic he seemed to you now.

"Okay.. I guess that doesnt really matter," you admitted with a laugh. Figeting with your hands as you heard a shallow laugh omit also from Mallory, which made you smile. The shallow pit that resided in your stomach finally starting to let up. "But.. What did he call you about last night?"

Mallory hesitated again before giving you another subtle smile.

"It was mostly about you.. I know how you feel about him y/n, but its working. I promise you. Hes finally warming up to you. I just wish you could hear how he talks about you,” she spoke. Taking your hands into her soft, warm ones.

"I wish I believed that," You admitted.

"I wouldnt lie to you. Hes finally starting to warm up to you, plus it was obvious yesterday-"

"Yeah; It was obvious how strong he was coming onto you."

Mallory laughed again at your words. Shaking her head slightly in protest.

“Y/n you know that’s not true. The only reason why he was flirting with me was just to get to you.. I thought that was obvious.”

“It was obvious I just.. didn’t know that you knew that. I mean, Michael has Madison.. or he did so you think that would at least satisfy his flirting needs for a bit but.. Michael faking to be interested in you, that would mean he wanted a reaction out of me on purpose? Why would he-“

“You know why. You need to start cutting yourself slack and realize that maybee this rivalry is starting to be one sided.”

You pouted at her words at the realization that they actually held more truth in them than you were willing to admit. If Michael didn’t hate you anymore, if he was truly actually willing to be civil.. then why were you still so upset? Were you the one who was unintentionally causing problems now? Was it now you instead of Michael that was holding the relationship back?

How fucking stupid.

“I can’t trust him, Mallory. How can I when he and Madison literally tried to kill me. I can never forget that they did that to me.”

“I’m not asking you to forget what he did, y/n. I’m just saying that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start having an open mind around him, and see where it gets you.”

You were struck silent, knowing that Mallory was completely right. If you wanted to have any hope at all of making things right with Michael (even though you really didn’t do anything wrong..) you would have to try a different approach because obviously; what you were doing now wasn’t working. Being snarky, and vaguely threatening him every chance you got was fun of course but- it wasn’t working. Even though Mallory was probably the sweetest person you knew, the fact your own best friend had to (very politely) make a intervention was.. not a good sign. Although, you knew Mallory was doing this for your best interest because if she didn’t say anything, then Cordelia certainly would.

And sadly, Mallory was actually right.

If you wanted things with Michael to advance any further; or to advance at all you needed to step things up but, you could always worry about that after Mallory left.

“So what, are you guys besties now or something?” You sneered.

“Shut up!” Mallory said with a laugh, playfully pushing you over a bit. “He’s barely even my acquaintance. The only reason he’s being nice to me is just to get to you, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I mean that’s the goal-“

“Do you think that’s the only reason?” You interrupted.

Your throat automatically tightened after you spoke, the threat of your words potentially being true coaxing you to silence. Your not sure why the thought of Michael using you made you upset.. it’s not as if you didn’t think he was doing it before but this time it was different. Perhaps it was because you finally thought Michael actually had some type of interest in you.. and to have that suddenly ripped away?

That would leave you beyond broken.. you knew that for certain.

Mallory looked at you solemnly, as if she was already resenting her words before she had to say them outloud.

“Look, I don’t exactly know Michaels intentions and I’m not going to pretend too.. I don’t really think anyone does at this point but I do know that regardless of your feelings, or even his feelings that.. you have to try.”

You let out a loud exhale.

“I mean you said it yourself.. Michaels so unpredictable, there’s no point in guessing how he feels so.. maybe I should just.. ask him?”

Realistically you didn’t know how good of a idea that was- but.. trying to remain realistic was something you gave up on days ago. Pretty much the same day you switched and that definitely wasn’t a coincidence by any means.

As soon as Mallorys mouth opened, you heard three loud knocks. Quick and rapid with no hesitation between them. The apartment nearly shook with the force of whoever happened to be at your door, and you certainly didn’t doubt that your neighbors heard the knocking as well.

Mallory looked at you in utter confusion, but stayed on the bed nonetheless with no sign of getting up. Naturally, you found yourself scooting closer to the end of the bed, knowing it was you who was going to have to get the door.. and that made you scared shitless. Not because you were necessarily scared to open the door but because you had a horribly bad feeling on who was on the other side.. There was only one person that you knew of that was aware of where you lived, and you knew it wasn’t matience or staff.

You knew standing up was the logical thing to do but you still stalled. Hands starting to painfully dig into the soft, expensive sheets that lie underneath you. You mouthed a silent, ‘what the fuck?’ to Mallory but your head snapped back at the door..

Three more knocks which were only louder and more persistent than the last.

“Coming!” You quickly called out.

It was pure anxiety that fueled your next actions. You quickly stood up from the bed, trying to walk hurriedly to the door as fast as you could and trying your damn best not to think.. Hoping Mallory also had a idea of who was at the door and also happened to get the fuck out of view.

You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday happening again today, and you knew you wouldn’t hesitate to slap Michael if he tried to flirt with her again. Even though, you knew you weren’t supposed to act like that anymore.. but why should you have manners if Michael refused them as well?

Opening the door swiftly and without a second thought; you stood breathless as you saw a familiar blonde standing in front of you.

You both stared at each other at first - each not daring to have the balls to say ‘hello’ or anything else for that matter.. You noticed how Michael first eyed you up, fully looking up and down your body (as well as peering behind you, hopefully not making eye contact with Mallory). You made a point to just look into Michaels eyes, refusing to do what he was doing.. whatever the fuck that truly was.

“How did you know I would be here?” You breathed.

“I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d come, but it also never hurt to charm the hotel staff a bit,” Michael responded swiftly without a second beat, almost as if he anticipated your words. His lips upturned slightly at the edges, in a way that nearly made your stomach sick.

“The hotel staff-?!”

“I have connections everywhere y/n, I thought you knew that,” he sneered.

He brushed past you as you continued to stand in shock. Your mouth slightly falling open as Michael took a few steps into your apartment - looking curiously around, almost as if he knew Mallory was here..

“I did.. I think that’s obvious,” you shot back hurriedly. “But thank you for the apartment again, Michael. I still feel weird taking it but it is nice I’ll admit,” you continued. Hoping to make him turn around to look back at you and hopefully not find Mallory.. Which worked. At least for a few seconds at least.

Michael made direct eye contact with you for a moment, almost as if he wanted to speak but was deliberately choosing not too. Instead he turned around, walking in deeper in the apartment.

Your mouth immediately dropped open - your feet carried yourself forward as you started to feel a bit numb with shock- not knowing even in the slightest how you were going to handle the situation if Mallory didn’t fucking move.

Sure enough..

“You always manage to linger.. don’t you?” Michael spoke.

It took only a couple steps for you to fully realize he wasn’t speaking to you. You only saw his backside as you approached them. Quickly meeting Mallorys gaze as you came into view.. Her brown eyes darker than ever as she peered up at you.

This time it is nearly impossible to distinguish whether she looked in agony from Michaels appearance or yours; since you apparently interrupted them. Her gaze quickly returned back to meet Michaels before you could think anything of it.

“I’m not here to see you, Michael.” Mallory announced. Her tone harsher than what you were expecting what apparent friends would use.. Were they even really friends?

Mallory suddenly stood up while Michael was still standing a few feet in front of her. Making eye contact with Michael for a split second before almost ducking around him before she stood in front of you.. leaving Michael speechless behind her. She quickly hugged you, her arms only embracing you for a split second before leaving. It was obvious she was in a hurry to leave now but.. you weren’t sure exactly why.

“I should get going, you and Michael have a lot to talk about,” she subtly smiled before turning to leave.. not letting you reply or have any sort of reaction to her words.

You stood solemnly as you heard Mallory’s footsteps gradually go farther away, before hearing the door open and close. You watched Michaels back as he refused to turn around.

“How was your nice chat with Mallory?”

“Why are you asking? Am I not allowed to see her or something?” You bit back. Your words possibly twice as venomous as his were.

Michael hastily turned around, looking at you with utter disbelief. His blue eyes looking into yours, as if he was suddenly surprised by your tone and how you were acting - as if his behavior didn’t proceeded yours.

“You need to relax,” he snapped. He approached you until he was right in front of you. “I wasn’t asking because I’m trying to control you, I know that’s what your thinking,” His words fell soft until they were nearly inaudible. “I just wanted to ask what she talked to you about.”

“About us?” You prompted.

“Well what else would she be talking to you about,” he snickered. His words spoken as more of a statement than a question. His laughter quickly dwindled off after he saw how rigid your frame suddenly looked. “Kidding. For the most part.. she said she was going to talk to you, and I figured I should actually speak to you this time rather than her.”

“Are you.. actually trying to trust me, Michael Langdon?” You teased. A smile, as well as laughter escaped from your lips at the mere thought.

Even though the thought was amusing on its own, you still didn’t completely trust him. Even now when he had Mallorys trust (for the most part), you still didn’t doubt that he had a ulterior motive.

Michael finally stepped back, hesitantly breaking eye contact before inaudibly beckoning you to follow him.

“I’m trying, just like how I told you I would,” He hauntingly reminded you.

You followed him silently to the long leather couch that sat by the overly expansive windows. Sitting down next to him in a way that felt almost too casual.. but being casual around Michael and not borderline fearing for your life was something you would have to adjust too.

You noticed how he instantly slipped his shoes off; drawing up his feet on the couch.. his arms and as well the rest of him contained. Away from you.

“So if your trying.. now,” you suggested uncertainly. “Then.. tell me why you came here to talk suddenly again? I mean why not just go through Mallory again like you’ve doing previously?”

“(Y/n), please. Take me seriously and just trust me for once,” His words came out quick and stern as he spoke them. “I was being serious yesterday, as well as all the other times when I told you I wanted to start.. putting effort in and trying.”

You stared at Michael utterly dumbfounded.. Feeling a bit hopeless that you actually felt almost.. touched by his words. That’s if he was actually being serious, anyway.

“What does trying mean to you?” You asked carefully. Your mind naturally went back to Madison.. were they even broken up yet? Was that even something that Michael was willing to do for you, and how was that something you could just ask? “What about-“

“Madison’s fine. She’s fine.. with everything,” he replied hesitantly.

You simply ignored the fact that he seemed to pick up what you were talking about almost immeadietly.. focusing on rather the latter part of the sentence.. that she was okay with everything?

“So she knows? That you’re here?”

“Yeah. She knows but that’s besides the point. Madison isn’t a part of the equation anymore, I don’t want to talk about her,” He spoke as if his words were final and not to be argued with, but his tone wasn’t angry. He was just done.. and you were too.

You wish that wasn’t the case though. Cutting Madison off didn’t sit right with you in the slightest, and it would definitely have to be something that would have to be mended later. That was a given.

Madison and Michaels relationship was far too close for them to suddenly split and remain like that forever - it was temporary, but so is everything really. That shouldn’t phase you but - it still managed too.

“Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ you started.

“It’s fine. I knew you would ask.. She’s the reason why I’m here actually,” His eyes broke contact and averted down to his hands. “I don’t mean that as in I’m not here to see you but, it was something she said that brought me here.” He continued, his voice almost growing soft now at just the mention of his ex girlfriend.. and now, you felt like you actually were starting to understand his point of view. Not fully but, it was clear that Michael was trying to be more open with you, and this time he wasn’t ‘fake’ drunk.

It took nearly everything in you to not immeadietly retort but just like the night where you were at the party; you tried to fully hear him out since this was apparently one of the few times he was being civil.

“So Madison gave you advice and you actually took it?” You said while laughing softly. Trying to lighten the mood since Michael seemed to be brooding.

Michael didn’t laugh back but instead his gaze flickered up to meet yours for a moment. The corners of his mouth upturning in a shallow smile that only lasted for a few seconds.

“I did because it made sense.” He said, his tone still remaining serious. You noticed how careful he was being with his words.. something that was typical for Michael to do but this time it seemed a bit too deliberate. You wanted to ask what exactly Madison even told him to do but.. that felt wrong. “It was also the right thing to do.. Being close to you is something I should’ve done a while ago, probably immeadietly-“

“But what’s in the past; stays in the past. And since your so adamant about being close to me.. we can always try now,” you cut in.

Michael continued to sit a good distance away from you; you thought it was ironic how he could talk about wanting to get close with you but wouldn’t dare to move any closer. That thought made your pride a little bit too happy.

Right before he could open his mouth to say something; his phone rang. The sound suddenly earsplitting and blaring but Michael didn’t bother to flinch. Instead he stood up and answered his phone.. making sure to nearly trek across the apartment before he said anything into the phone.

You stretched and casually examined him as he talked, you had a feeling who it was on the line..

After how tense things were with Mallory - you knew they probably weren’t going to be on friendly terms anytime soon.. especially in front of you. And judging by how.. oddly relaxed he seemed (yet timid when he caught your gaze and realized you were staring), it had to be one person.

You were about to sink back into the couch and try your best to not speculate what they were talking about, but before you could fully turn - you realized Michael was sauntering towards you.. clearly still on the phone.

Oh fuck.

Before you could ask what was wrong, the look he gave you alone ushered you to silence.

He quickly held the phone away from his ear. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that the call was still active.

“You said you forgive Madison.. right?” He spoke lowly. His words barely audible, more so mouthing the words than actually speaking them.

You looked at him with a expression you’re sure looked as if you were furious but you were really just completely confused. You wanted to ask but.. there was no time if she was on the phone, but knowing what you were about to get yourself into would also be nice to know.

His eyes had since lost the sharpness that had nearly cut you earlier, instead swarming with urgency and a bit of panic.. It had to be Madison. The only person that could ever have that effect on Michael was Madison.

You simply nodded in response. Not trusting yourself to speak quietly outloud but you also didn’t exactly trust your response because it wasn’t exactly truthful, but Michael seemed to be level headed.. for now.

Michael immeadietly turned and held the phone back up to his ear, this time staying in closer proximity and within ear shot. Putting on his shoes as he continued to hold the conversation he was having.

“Okay

...

So when are you coming?

...

Great, see you then. . . Bye.”

If you didn’t just hear the words that you thought you had heard.. you knew under normal circumstances your heart would’ve ached when you realized how Michael hesitated before he said goodbye, most likely catching himself before he said ‘I love you’. Instead though, you felt a gruesome wave of nausea suddenly rise through you.. urging you to shakily stand up and speak without thinking.

“She’s coming to see you?”

Michael barely gave you a second glance as he turned around and started to head for the front door of the apartment.

“Yes. You’ll be seeing her too, don’t worry.” He spoke before he quickly let the door shut behind him.

You continued to stand, utterly speechless.

Part of you wanted to run after him and the other part merely wanted to scream in anger that he had already made fucking plans but instead you felt numb. Numb and calm.

You returned to your bag and unpacked, trying your best to not let your emotions consume you like they previously had too many times.. until you finally broke down and called Mallory.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @langdons-pinkyring @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @mindlesschicca

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist!!

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 12

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

Word Count: 4.7K

__

"Come on (Y/n)" Mikasa jostled your shoulder, the sunlight barely seeping into Annie's room thanks to her thick curtains and the overcast outside. Your eyes cracked open and you grunted as Mikasa lifted her hand from your shoulder. You sat up, your hair sticking our in odd angles as you blinked sleepily at Mikasa.

"What time is it?" you mumbled as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Annie was buried under the covers still asleep.

"It's eight in the morning." Mikasa informed as you reluctantly climbed out of the warm bed. Mikasa waited patiently for you by the door as you grabbed your phone and shrugged your flannel back on. You noticed that Mikasa's eyes lingered on chest and neck and you flushed, hazy memories of the night prior returning to you slowly. You looked around for your jeans, vaguely recalling taking them off before going to sleep. You were certain that you and Annie hadn't done anything beyond some heavy petting and kissing. You found your pants and pulled them on quickly, buttoning them as you and Mikasa left the room and descended the stairs to the main floor where you had left your shoes and coat.

As the two of you walked out the side door you noticed that most of the cars were still in the drive way, Eren's car was running and you could make out both Eren and Armin in the car already. Mikasa paused a few feet away from the car and quirked a brow at you.

"So you and Annie?" she mused, you groaned and rubbed the side of your face, your head pounding.

"No we just kissed." you clarified, it had been a good experience but you knew that you wouldn't want to have a relationship with Annie. At least at this time.

"I didn't know you were into girls." Mikasa said softly. You shrugged and smiled at her.

"Neither did I, well I guess I thought I'd never act on those feelings." you chuckled as you licked your lips and clutched your throat thoughtfully.

"I see." Mikasa left it at that as she closed the distance to the drivers side and climbed in. You slid into the backseat with Armin, doing your best to cover yourself with your coat. Armin had his head in his hands as he leaned forward in his seat, his blonde hair curtaining over his face.

"You alright?" you asked as Mikasa turned around and pulled out of the driveway. Eren was leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed. Armin nodded and leaned back with a sigh.

"Yeah, it was just a long night." he smiled tiredly at you and you nodded in agreement.

"Yeah it was." you agreed as you turned to look out at the snowy scenery.

"Should I take you home?" Mikasa asked tentatively, you pursed your lips in thought, if you went home now you hoped that you could just go to bed and that your brother would give you some space. However if you went to the Jeagers you knew that you could sleep for the rest of the day undisturbed. But the thought of your own bed was too enticing.

"Yes please." you finally said, Mikasa nodded and turned down onto one of the many winding back roads that would take you to your house. It must have snowed some more last night because now the trees were heavy with snow, the roads still bathed in a white with few tire tracks. It was an early Saturday morning so it wasn't surprising that people had chosen to stay home, especially given the icy state of the roads. You began to get nervous as Mikasa turned onto your road and then onto your driveway. You noticed that Erwin and Hange's cars were both in the driveway, both covered in snow. You thanked Mikasa and told her to text you when they got home safely before climbing out, slinging your bag over your shoulder and pulling your house key out. You waved as they pulled out of the drive and out onto the road. You unlocked the door as quietly as you could, kicking off your shoes and tip toeing through the kitchen and up the stairs. The house was quiet and dark, you made sure to be extra quiet as you walked past Erwin's room, shutting your door behind you, you sighed with relief before once again sliding your jeans off and slipping into a pair of grey sweats.

You plugged your phone in and crawled under your covers, your head still spinning as you fell into your pillows. You drifted in and out of sleep for about four hours before giving up on getting more rest. Besides, the bustling sounds of your mom, Erwin, and Hange in the kitchen was growing from a muffle, to a roar in your hungover state. You threw the covers off before padding over to your closet in search of something to cover your bruised neck. You paused at your vanity and switched on your lamp to inspect the damage. Dark purple bruises littered your throat and collarbones, you counted at least four bad ones. You hissed as you touched the sensitive skin, the highest hickey was right below your jaw, nearly impossible to cover. You cursed as you continued with your task of finding a hoodie to throw on. Thankfully that covered all except the one below your jaw.

You sat at your vanity and began rubbing a quarter over the area in hopes of lightening the bruise before applying concealer. You frowned, setting down the quarter to inspect your work, the angry skin was still red, but not nearly as bad, so your began to blend in some concealer. Once you were pleased with your handy work you grabbed your empty water bottle and steeling your nerves to go down to the kitchen. As you descended the stairs you could smell your mom making lunch, hear Hange's tik tok for you page, and see Erwin at the dining room table typing away on his laptop. No signs of Levi, maybe you had been seeing things last night. Your mom turned to greet you a smile on her face as you walked to the fridge to refill your water.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." She teased as she leaned over to ruffle your hair. You smiled weakly at her and batted her hand away from your head.

"Good afternoon." you greeted as you screwed the cap back onto your water.

"Want something to eat?" she asked as she nodded towards the skillet with butter and bread, you noticed a sliced avocado and some lunch meat and cheese. Your stomach churned at the thought of food but you nodded, knowing that it would make you feel better.

"Yes please." you said as you wandered over to sit next to Hange, who now was watching you intently.

"What are your plans for today?" she asked as you sat next to her. You shrugged, not having though that far in advance.

"Not sure yet." you admitted as Hange pursed her lips in thought.

"How about dinner and a movie with Erwin, Levi and I?" She offered, a hopeful look on her face. You knew that Hange dealt with most conflict like this, favoring to act like nothing had happened, unless of course it was a big fight. You nodded, deciding that it might be nice and give you a chance to apologize for last night. But not too much apologizing because you knew that you had been right in standing your ground.

"Who's house?" you asked curiously, mostly expecting her to say that it would be at your house.

"Levi's." she smiled sheepishly, your mouth fell open into an 'o', usually Levi tried to keep his friends away from his house. You'd never been insides, the closest you'd gotten was his driveway when Erwin picked him up a few times before Levi got his license.

"Huh okay. What time?" you asked, glancing at the clock.

"As soon as we finish lunch." it was already twelve thirty, a bit early to watch movies.

"Really? Isn't that a bit....early?" you chewed your lip nervously, feeling unprepared for what would be another casual evening. Hange shrugged and stirred her cup of iced coffee with a smile.

"Yeah I guess but Levi's probably just going to sleep through it anyway." she chuckled, your brows furrowed, remembering that Levi was probably exhausted from his travels and your temper tantrum.

"Oh yeah, why'd he come back so early did something happen?" you asked, hoping that Hange would shed some light on the situation.

"Ah well he just decided that he missed me too much." she winked at you but you noticed the brief flash of uncertainty across her face. Whether she wasn't telling you the full truth or she herself was unsure remained a mystery.

"Say want to come upstairs and help me with my history?" She asked after moment of silence when she noticed you were spiraling into the recesses of your thoughts.

"Sure but why do you need my help?" you asked as Hange grabbed your wrist and drug you up stairs to Erwin's room. You frowned when you couldn't see her backpack or any of her school supplies that she usually had scattered around the room.

"Wheres your-"

"I'm so sorry about last night." Hange took your hands into her own and looked at you with wide eyes. You felt your lip quiver as she ran her thumbs over your knuckles.

"It's fine it's not your fault." you mumbled as your eyes fell to the floor.

"But it is! I convinced Levi to come back early." she confessed, her glasses fogging up as her eyes watered. Your eyes widened at her confession, but still you didn't blame her. It was Erwin that you were mad with right now, not Levi.

"I'm not mad at you or Levi." you said softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. She sniffled, and pushed her gently pulled her hands back to push her glasses off her face so she could wipe a single tear off her cheek.

"You're not?" she asked, a small smile gracing her lips.

"No, I just got frustrated with Erwin. If I'd known that Levi was coming home then I wouldn't have gone to the party." you explained, glad that you were able to clear the air between you and Hange. You chuckled airily as she pulled you into a tight hug.

"I know he can be overbearing at times but, he just cares about you. He doesn't want to screw you up." she mumbled into your hair as she rubbed your back soothingly. You hugged her back just as tightly.

"I know." you sighed as you buried your head into her shoulder.

"You don't have to apologize just yet, but I would like you two to come to terms sooner rather than later." she said softly, you nodded in agreement. You hated fighting with Erwin, but you knew that if you didn't say something about how you felt, then he would never catch on. Admittedly, you wished that you'd handled the whole ordeal sober, but there was no going back now.

"Yeah I guess." you agreed as Hange pulled the two of you onto Erwin's bed. She smiled at you, pleased with herself.

"So, want to tell me about the party last night? Seemed like fun!" she said as she fell back onto the bed on her back. You remained seated as you tried to think of where to start.

"It was fun...we mostly just sat around and talked." you shrugged as you turned to gauge her reaction.

"Annie's got a huge house." Hange commented with a chuckle, you nodded in agreement.

"She does"

"Did you see Jean?" She asked, propping herself up on her elbows to study you.

"Yeah, he found me after you left. Sat with me in the bathroom for a little bit before we went back with the group." you nodded, giving her a smile.

"You call him out?" she quizzed as her eyes widened.

"Not really, I think that he's got some stuff going on and I don't want to give him too hard of a time." you shrugged indifferently, you were over that drama.

"Ah I see, well there's plenty of fish in the sea." Hange plopped back down onto her back and fell silent.

"Yeah and lots of trash." you huffed, Hange snorted.

"Damn right."

__

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Hange and Erwin in his room, Erwin continued to work as you and Hange sat on his bed talking and scrolling through your phones. The winter days were short, so by the time that five had rolled around, the sun had already sunk below the horizon. Erwin's phone chimed and he paused his work to glance at the lit screen.

"He says to come now." He said, shutting his laptop and crossing the room to throw on a fresh shirt.

"Took him long enough." Hange grunted as she stretched and stood up as well.

"What movie are we watching?" you asked as you shoved your phone into your pocket.

"Probably Pulp Fiction, it's his favorite you know." Hange said with a wink as she stooped to pick up one of her bras off the floor. Your nose scrunched with slight disgust as she pulled her shirt off and pulled the bra on. You were also guilty of wearing the same bra more than once, but the thought of Hange and your brother doing stuff made you want to barf.

"Hm okay." you said as you went to go double check your appearance in the bathroom. You decided that instead of wearing sweats, you would change into a pair of leggings so you didn't look like a complete hobo. Once you were changed, you rushed down the stairs to meet Hange and Erwin at the door.

"I can drive since you drove last night." Hange said, spinning her keys around her pointer finger as she watched Erwin pull his shoes on.

"Fine" Erwin agreed as he slid his arms into his letter jacket, you pulled your own shoes on and the three of you carefully made your way out to Hange's car. You sat in the back, bouncing your knee anxiously as you neared your destination. You felt both excited and nervous, although you spent a lot of time with Erwin and his friends, it wasn't often that they invited you along with them for outings like these.

Hange pulled up to Levi's house, a modest home with two cars parked in the driveway, one you recognized as Levi's and another that you knew to be Kenny's. The three of you walked up the the front door and Erwin let himself in after a curt knock. The front door led you right into Levi's living room, where Kenny was passed out asleep watching some car show. The three of you tip toed past him and into the kitchen, and down a short hallway, pausing in front of a door. You looked at the pictures on the wall, most of them of Kenny and a young woman that you assumed was Levi's mother. There were a few younger pictures of Levi, one with his mother, but most of him and Kenny.

Erwin pushed the door open and led the way down to the basement. The t.v was already on and you could see the hazy smoke of Levi's dab pen lingering in the air. You could make out the top of his head peeking over the small couch. The basement was small, not much beyond two small couches and a tv. Although there was a pool table jammed into the far corner. You noticed a small shelf with a record player on top, a neatly organized stack of records filed underneath it. Levi didn't acknowledge the three of you as Hange and Erwin plopped down onto the couch opposite of Levi. You sat stiffly on the opposite end of Levi's couch. He scrolled through the tv before pulling up The Goonies. The movie started and Hange and Erwin cuddled up together and began whispering and giggling.

Levi sat his phone down and leaned back into the couch, you curled your legs up beneath yourself as you tried to get comfortable. Levi glared at you as you shifted for the millionth time.

"Quick wiggling around" he scolded and you paused, your legs now spread as you leaned back into the leather couch.

"Sorry" you mumbled as you tried to pay attention.

"You want a blanket?" Hange asked as she grabbed a neatly folded balnket off the back of her couch. You nodded and held your hands up to catch the bundle. She tossed it and you covered yourself quickly. Erwin and Hange had already found a blanket to wrap up in, you watched as the police scene in the movie continued to unfold. You doubted that Levi would bring up the night prior, especially seeing that he hadn't even bothered to greet you yet. You brought your legs back up to the couch and grunted in frustration as you tried to find a comfortable position.

As you finally settled on leaning agains the arm of the couch with your legs slanted sideways, but this positon hurt your knees, so as you moved to throw them back over the edge. You sighed and glanced longingly at Hange, wishing that she would sit with you. You considered squeezing in next to her on the couch, and decided to give it a try. You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders and stood up, Levi glanced at you, his eyes narrowed into slits. You shuffled across the room and plopped down onto Hange's lap. She wrapped her arms around you and leaned back into the couch.

"What's wrong little baby?" she teased as she held you.

"I'm just cold" you lied as she rubbed your arms to warm you up.

"Sureeee" Hange said, poking your cheek. Erwin scoffed and pushed you off Hange's lap. You fell with a thud onto the ground, you gasped as you looked up at Erwin.

"Jerk" you huffed, throwing the blanket off and lunging at him. He easily knocked you back onto your ass, but stood up to his full height. You came at him once more, this time trying to throw him off balance by tackling his midsection. He chuckled and allowed you to throw your weight into the attack, your sock covered feet sliding against the carpet comically. Finally Erwin tired of watching you struggle and looped an arm under your own midsection and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Levi scoffed as Erwin dangled you near his face, you clawed at Erwin's back, looking for anything to grab onto. You flailed around, but you couldn't do much since Erwin had you flipped upside down, your back against his own broad back. Finally you fell still, relaxing your muscles and allowing the blood to rush to your face.

Levi's eyes widened at the sight of dark purple marks that were littered along the column of your throat. He felt a rage spark in his chest, his eyes zeroed in on the bruises, the edges of them still prickled red and irritated. They had to have been from the previous night, but from who? That jerk that cheated on you? Or that blonde that you'd dated the previous year? The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

Erwin dropped you down and you quickly smoothed your clothes down, giving him a weary glare. He fell back onto the sofa by Hange and with a heavy sigh, returned his attention back to the TV. You gave Hange's lap one last longing look before returning to your seat by Levi. You felt the tension radiating off him in thick waves, you also tensed, trying to prepare yourself for whatever had set him off this time.

"Levi, can we have some popcorn?" Hange pleaded, her hands clasped together as she gave Levi soft pleading puppy eyes.

"Tch." Levi threw his blanket off and stood, for once he was happy to have an excuse to escape the stuffy basement.

"I'll come with you" you offered, jumping to your feet and following him up the stairs. Levi stalked through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where he riffled through the cabinets and pulled a handful of popcorn packets. You shifted awkwardly near the small table before deciding to take a seat. It was an interesting shift in the dynamic that you'd become so familiar with, usually you were the one jumping through hoops to please your guests. While Levi was by no means going to great lengths to ensure his guests' comfort, it was still fun to watch him fill the role of host for once.

"Want to tell me about what got into you last night?" Levi's cold voice made you flinch. You felt the guilt seep back into you, making you feel heavy and a tad sick.

"If I'd known you were coming back I wouldn't have gone." you said honestly, your eyes falling to your lap.

"That's a shit explanation." Levi scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter. Your head snapped up, rage filling you once more. It wasn't fair of him to dictate your social life when he went and partied whenever he pleased.

"It's not like you don't go to parties like that." you replied, your eyes meeting his dark ones.

"Doesn't mean it's right." Levi said as he pushed off the counter and stalked across the kitchen to stand on the opposite end of the table.

"Look, I appreciate your concern but it was my choice, and I was having fun until you guys showed." You stood up and glared daggers at Levi.

"Right, and I assume that whoever gave you those disgusting marks was having fun too?" he snarled, his hand gesturing towards your neck. Your hand flew to your throat to cover the marks Annie had given you.

"If you're jealous just say so." you growled, as you matched his shitty attitude.

"Why would I be jealous? If I wanted you I would already have had you." his words cut through you.

"Then quit acting so psycho! You're giving me these crazy mixed signals." you snapped, your voice cracking with emotion.

"I'm not the one giving mixed signals, you're the one who kissed me and then gave me blue balls." Levi hissed has hand slapped loudly against the table in his frustration and you flinched, eyes widening at his sudden outburst.

"I was seeing Jean and you  were with Petra, it doesn't matter how we felt. It was wrong of us to do that." You argued, your voice surprisingly level despite the turmoil of emotions underneath the surface of your facade. Levi scoffed and placed his other hand on the table as he leaned onto the surface.

"Doesn't change the fact that it happened." Levi reasoned, you knew that he was right, that in your moment of impulsiveness when it boiled down to it, the both of you had made a bad decision. One that had not only damaged the already fragile relationship between the two of you but also the relationship between your friends as well.

"I know..." you sighed, the frustration seeping into your tone. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked down at the table, not wanting to meet his gaze. The kitchen fell silent, the sounds of Kenny snoring in the other room and the popcorn popping made you feel as if you were dreaming.

"Look" Levi sighed as he ran a hand down the side of his face, which was twisted into a scowl. You turned to look up at him.

"When-When I'm around you, god this is stupid." He huffed in frustration as he covered his eyes with a hand, his cheeks flushed red. You waited patiently, knowing that moments like these with Levi were few and far between.

"I question everything I do and I get all...jumbled up inside I guess." he continued after a moment. You remained silent, waiting to see if he was finished yet.

"I know that when we kissed it was wrong but I didn't care because, my judgement is all clouded when you're around. And I hate it." he finally took his hand off his face and your stomach dropped at his words.

"But at the same time...I kind of like it?" Levi groaned and dropped into one of the chairs, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the roots.

"Levi-"

"Don't, I don't want to hear it." Levi interrupted you, holding a hand up as he sighed heavily. The microwave beeped and he stood up quickly to pull the hot bag of popcorn out and pour it into a bowl. You stood up and waited patiently for him to finish once more.

"Levi just listen okay" you pleaded, standing between him and the basement.

"Fine." he relented, placing the bowl on the table gently.

"I like spending time with you too, I just know that you're going to college and I guess that it felt a bit unfair that you finally started paying attention to me right before you had to go." you told him, kicking your toe against the floor as you looked down at the immaculately clean floors. You heard the floorboards creak as he shifted as well, unsure of what to do or say next.

"I see..." he muttered as he watched you fidget, your ears felt hot as you still refused to meet his gaze.

"Its settled then." He said, closing the space between you, he caught your hand in his and held it firmly in his grasp.

"I'll stay here, with you." He ran his calloused thumb over your knuckles, and you inhaled sharply, as good as those words felt, you knew that it would be insanely selfish to hold him captive here.

"I can't ask that of you." you said, finally daring to look up at him, his silver eyes were soft in the dim lighting.

"It's not like it's all that bad around here." Levi shrugged as he continued to toy with your fingers, his dull gaze held no fire any longer, making your heart squeeze.

"I know but people say that these next few years of your life are the best, I couldn't ask you to stick around here and miss out on college life." you spoke softly, knowing that if you weren't careful that you could set him off again.

"That's a load of shit." Levi scoffed, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a small peck onto your knuckles. You flushed, becoming a bit frustrated with his reasoning.

"I think you're missing my point..." you said as he looked up at you, his gaze hardening at your tone.

"Which would be?" Levi asked incredulously as he brought your hand up for another sweet kiss.

"My point is that I don't want to be heart broken when you leave for college or whatever it is that you decide to do." you huffed, but allowed him to kiss the inside of your wrist, feeling his lips curl into an almost impish smirk.

"So you admit that being apart breaks your heart?" Levi asked a tab coyly as he looked at you, eyes shining with mischief. You stuck your tongue out and looked away in an attempt to hide your flushed cheeks.

"Of course! If there's one thing I learned over these past few months it's that I hate being away from you, even if when you're around you're just a jerk." you admitted begrudgingly, saying it out loud made you realize how the situation seemed a bit toxic, but you couldn't care too much about that in this moment.

"Then I won't leave, I'll go to school online and work for my uncle." Levi shrugged nonchalantly and you felt your heart flutter, but you squashed your feelings before they could swell too much.

"Levi, is that what you really want?" you asked, squeezing his hand to hold his attention. Levi's brows furrowed thoughtfully as he watched your fingers intertwine with his.

"I don't know what I want, school wise that is. But I do know that I want to be with you." He said, his voice steady and confident as you smiled at him softly.

"That's good enough for me." you sighed, standing to your full height as he grabbed the popcorn, the two of you had kept Erwin and Hange waiting long enough.

[blanknamed]

trial and error pt. 2 [senku x reader]

NOT ME FORGETTING TO POST CHAPTER TWO LMAOOO SORRY HERE IT IS THO

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER TWO: CONTEMPLATION

How did I get myself into this situation? [Name] asked herself desperately, watching Ruri shuffle around her hut, staring at the dresses given by the village women lined up neatly on the floor. She held up a blue dress [Name]’s way, who only stared at the shortened skirt. Just the look alone was enough for Ruri to understand that she didn’t like it, causing her to giggle at the reaction.

“You don’t seem to be happy about this even though you were the one who gave Senku the idea.” Ruri stated as she kneeled behind her to start braiding [Name]’s unruly hair.

“Just because I gave him the idea doesn’t mean I wanted to be his little test subject.” [Name] groaned. An unreadable look passed Ruri as she watched the younger girl’s growing discomfort. If she was even more redder, she would’ve matched what she had looked like a few hours ago.

“Huh?” [Name] asked as she stared at Senku, who only looked at her pointedly. Quickly, blood rushed on every part of her face as she started stutter. “Wha--I--you did not just say what I thought I heard you say.”

“What part did you not understand?” Senku asked dismissively, talking as if he hadn’t just asked out his childhood friend on a date. “I might as well take you on one to get good feedback. No one else gives any as specifc as you.”

Feedback.

Feedback.

The word kept repeating in [Name]’s head, almost making her dizzy. What did she expect, though? She told him, a scientist, to treat it like an experiment. Test a hypothesis. She was pretty sure he only wanted to take her in particular because (1) he wanted good feedback, like he had said, and (2) if there was even a slight chance he was going to take another girl on a date, Senku was going to force [Name] to come along to examine and analyze. Which was, by common sense, not really going to be a date.

“Oi, you don’t say that to a girl, especially if you just asked her out.” Chrome called out, punching Senku on the shoulder. “Not to mention isn’t that a breach in--what was it? Ethnics? Right?”

“Ethics.” Gen corrected before nodding in confirmation, looking at the two friends. “There’s a lot of things that could go wrong because you’re not following the right rules here, Senku-chan. Wouldn’t it be better to just pair up two different villagers who are single and see how romance can be attainable from there?”

[Name] could see slight movements from her side, where a few of the younger villagers turned a hue of pink as they glanced at one another, probably thinking about the prospect of being one of Senku’s experiements. Seeing that the benefits outweighing the negative prospects (not getting injured in any way possible, no one being able to see them except possibly Senku, and the prospects of a lover), it looked like a few of them were already making the decision to be part of it.

But this was Senku. He wasn’t about to play matchmaker if he himself couldn’t even find a reason to think that love wasn’t some illogical construct to fill up human loneliness. She wasn’t the only who was thinking that, though, as Kohaku spoke up.

“But this is about Senku thinking he can’t have those types of feelings so its gonna have to be him.” She replied blandly. “[Name] was probably chosen because he wants her to be there to watch him for any signs, regardless if its here being taken on a date or not.”

“That and she proposed the idea so she’s going to do it.” Senku piped up, sending [Name] a teasing grin.

[Name], burning even redder, stuttered some more. “You-You’ve got to be kidding me Senku. This must be some type of joke. I only said that to make conversation.”

“It was an interesting conversation and a weird statement that I wanna experiment on. Nothing less expected from you, though, [Name].” Senku replied as he kept slurping at the last of his ramen. “Besides its not like you have anything to do tonight.”

“Yeah, but--wait, tonight? Don’t you have get things in order--start out a claim, set up the experiment?” [Name] rambled, now even more confused. 

Kohaku met Chrome’s eyes with a deadpanned expression. Leave it to [Name] to treating it like an actual experiment and finding the faults. Though, Senku wasn’t usually one to leave out so many variables that could ruin the experiment.

“These are special cicumstances; have you ever participated in your own experiments? Adjustments will be made, yeah, but we might as well start it today and talk about it during the date. Just meet me by the bridge tonight. We’ll go to the field, go on a date, and then you can report to me anything you saw. Sound good? Cool. Now lets get back to work.” Senku said, standing up dusting off his pants, leaving a bewildered [Name] and possibly most of the village in his wake.

If it hadn’t been for a few of the village women, [Name] wouldn’t have been pulled out of her daze and internal panic. She’s had crushes on boys, yeah, but going on a date? Not really. She was too busy with school and helping her mother out at the store. There were a few times where she had almost gone on a one, but something always made her call in for a raincheck and then never proceeding afterwards.

But here she was 3,700 years later, sitting in a priestess’s hut, getting ready to go on a date with the world’s biggest asshole.

Kohaku had been the one to think about bringing the younger girl up to Ruri, explaining what had went down. Surprisingly, the village priestess was the least bit shocked about the events, deciding to (calmly) agree anyways to help relieve some of the immense stress [Name] was feeling. At the mention of Ruri helping created some domino effect with the village women, all offering to help [Name] get ready, much to her dismay.

“Its not like Senku’s gonna make the effort to dress nicely. I swear he wouldn’t have showered if I hadn’t made Chrome and Kinro drag him to the river a few days ago! Not to mention he’s only doing this to prove a point; that’s why he’s rushing it so quickly. So I really don’t think all of you should be treating this as anything special.” [Name] tried to reason as she watched the women pull up rope-like jewelry up to her body.

Kohaku scoffed. “Its not like boys know how to take care of themselves in the first place. I’m pretty sure one of the men in the village has his head screwed on properly or most likely Gen is gonna make him dress up just a little bit. Not to mention if this is an experiment then he’s most likely not trying to botch it to just prove a point.”

“Then why was he being so… So…” [Name] trailed off, not quite putting a word on it.

“Adamant?” Ruby offered as she held up a pretty necklace with a jewel attached to it.

“Excited?” Garnet said next as she pushed her chin up to spread something on her mouth. Lipstick? [Name] inquired. I guess the need for makeup never changes after so many years.

“Not really excited but--hold on, didn’t you three want to go on a date with Senku? I thought you’d be mad or something.” [Name] stated, clearly remembering the usual formula of girl’s behaviors during the modern era. It usually involved in some type of “she said he said” situation, where rumors ensued. At the very least, the three sisters should have been upset with her for Senku’s selection in dates.

Sapphire shrugged as she plucked at [Name]’s baggy dress. “We were for a few hours, but we might as well help since you look like you don’t know the first thing about going on a date.”

“Wha--Hey!” [Name] retorted, offended before backtracking. I mean, it’s not like they’re wrong.

“Maybe he actually likes you.” Kohaku suggested as she sat across from [Name]. Silence filled the room as all the girls stared at them. A moment passed between the two girls as they looked at one another until [Name] bursted out laughing, almost smearing her cheek against the lipstick hovering in front of her.

“Not possible. I’m pretty sure he sees me more of a germ than a person. Not to mention he’s never really found the girls in his own grade--the ones older than me--attractive so what’s the likely chance he sees me that way?” She asked when she stopped. She recalled a rumor swirling around the school about Senku rejecting over 10 girls during Valentine’s Day, all of them varying in popularity and looks. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, [Name]-san.” Ruri commented as she held another dress up to her, this one looking a little more decent. “You’re easily one of the prettiest girls here.”

“Don’t make me laugh again…” [Name] mumbled to herself, flinching when she felt Sapphire poke at her waist once again. “Oi, why are are you poking me?”

“I’m trying to see what your shape is like so we can let you try on one of the dresses.” Sapphire replied, pouting. “Why do you have to wear such baggy clothes?”

“Practicality.” Was the only response [Name] gave as she tried to keep still when makeup was being put on her.

“That’s a lame excuse. I bet you’re just hiding the fact you have small boobs.”

“My boobs have nothing to do with my clothes. Besides, small boobs or not, it shouldn’t matter what people think about them--!” [Name] yelled out, embarrassed, as a dress was thrown onto her lap.

It was blue, like most of the villager’s clothing, but it seemed more simple and less body-hugging like most of the clothes. It flowed down near the bust, where it had folded nicely around it to adjust to anyone wearing it. The sleeves were puffy and ended where her biceps began, looking kind of like neatly made muffins. Instead of a rope, a thin piece of cloth of the same color was tied to the front, giving a nice, simple finish for the clothing.

If Mom was still alive, she’d probably be looking at how well done this dress was with just a simple loom and needle. [Name] thought as she marveled at the tiny needlework near the waist, creating tiny little flowers near the top. Looking up, she met Ruri’s gentle smile. “That should fit you since one of the village women is identical to your body shape. Now, lets get you dressed; you have to meet up with Senku soon.”

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