#expression practice turned into an entire comic

[wifelinkmtg]

TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

#phyrexia #not defining the ditch except by implication #thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia #this is technically the march of the machine review also #or as much of one as i care to do

[b1rds3ye]

AAAA i loved that 141 + masked reader one!! omg you're filling my head with mask ideas now...

what if reader had one of those LED masks that showed different facial expressions? just walking around going ":D" ":]" "^-^" "?" ">:(" as a substitute of their real expressions. omfg imagine them coming back from a mission and price is praising them on their work or smth and they just hit him with the "uwu"

I'm glad so many people are liking the prompt, I had a lot of fun with it too!! This is very much giving me Watch Dogs 2 Wrench but also Rina Tennoji omg there are so many legendary masked characters-

The rest of the 141 were confused at first. While the mask provided anonymity, there was also the benefit of hiding facial information to an enemy. But now with these LEDs your emotions could be read like an open book, but ultimately they found it endearing.

Soap in particular loves your mask. Johnny loves surprising you to generate "!"s over the eyes and finds himself smiling every time your mask switches to a new emotion. As demolition expert, he prides himself over the one time he got you so riled up that an error message flashed across your mask. He's also genuinely curious about the mask and will gladly try to help if there are any technical difficulties or if you want a hardware upgrade. He's also the most unnerved out of the 141 if you ever turn the LEDs off, immediately by your side to comfort you as he can no longer read your mood.

Gaz doesn't often provoke you but he does find himself snickering whenever your expressions change from others. It's also an easy way for Kyle to keep track of how you're feeling, even when no one's around your mask automatically goes ";-;" when you're feeling down and he'll check up on you. Whenever he does make a joke though, he's immediately looking to your mask to see if someone will appreciate his humour. He also wishes you turned off your mask more during missions, the little angry face your mask makes isn't intimidating in the slightest and he can't risk getting distracted cooing over you during an op.

Ghost is very curious. Your own mask has him wondering if his own needs a bit of an upgrade - perhaps an LED skull mask with a moving lower jaw. Simon's heart warms up a bit at how you've picked a mask that's still so comically expressive, he enjoys interacting with someone that's so upfront with their emotions. He won't admit it but he finds it cute how your mask goes "-_-" whenever he says one of his horrendous "military humour" jokes. He's considerate of your mask and ensures that there is no water or liquids nearby.

Price's first concern was practicality (how the hell were you going to use night-vision?) but once the mask seems to work without a hitch, he now checks on your mask to not only gauge your mood but as a visual indicator of the overall atmosphere among the rest of the task force. You're now his favourite person to praise. He doesn't give it freely of course, but most of his subordinates will try to hide their smiles as they glow under his praise as they keep up their tough soldier persona. You though? The sudden "! o !" and then consequential "^_^" as you walk away with a hop in your step is probably the sweetest thing he's seen in his entire military career.

It's all fun and games until you turn off the LEDs - usually done in dark/covert missions or when you're interrogating the enemy. That's when you're truly unreadable, a masked terror. As you eliminate enemies in close combat the last thing they will see is their own face contorted into absolute terror as it is faintly reflected like a memory against the bottomless darkness of your visor.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #anon mail ❤️ #/*avery actually writes*/ #/*avery checks the mailbox*/ #/*cod x masked reader*/

[radiosteve]

Casual

Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.

Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 11.3k+

Knee deep in the passenger seat

The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.

“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F. 

“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.

“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.

The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.

“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”

“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.

“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut. 

“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics. 

But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.

The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.

“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.

“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes. 

Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.

“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.

“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.

“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.

“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.

“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him. 

Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.

His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.

“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.

That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.

“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit. 

Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.

“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. 

He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.

You said “Baby, no attachment”

“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room. 

“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.

Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.

As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.

Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.

You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.

“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.

“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.

“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.

“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child. 

“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.

“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.

“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.

“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.

“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him. 

“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.

“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.

Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.

“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.

“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.

“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.

“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.

“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.

On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.

“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.

“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.

It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.

“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus. 

Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.

Dream of us in a year

The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door. 

It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.

“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.

“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.

“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.

“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.

“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.

“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.

“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.

In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.

He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.

“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…

You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.

“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.

“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.

“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.

“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.

“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.

“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.

“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.

“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.

“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.

“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.

“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.

“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours. 

It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.

Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did. 

You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.

Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.

“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.

Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.

With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.

Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder. 

Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours. 

Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.

“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.

You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.

Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind. 

After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up. 

The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened. 

Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.

The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself. 

But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.

I’m still hanging around

Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.

They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.

“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.

“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.

Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.

Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.

“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.

“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.

“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.

“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.

“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.

“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.

“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.

“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.

“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.

“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun. 

Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.

I know what you tell your friends

Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.

“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.

Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.

The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.

The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.

“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?

“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.

“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.

Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter. 

“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.

“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.

“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.

“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.

You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him. 

Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.

“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.

“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.

He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.

“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.

“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.

You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust. 

His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant. 

“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.

You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?

Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.

“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around. 

“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.

Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been. 

Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now. 

Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.

“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car. 

The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.

“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you. 

“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.

“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.

“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.

“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.

Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.

Someone you couldn’t lose

“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.

“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.

“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.

In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.

Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him. 

The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.

“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below. 

The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence. 

Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.

Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer. 

Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence. 

With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.

“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.

“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.

A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.

“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.

“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.

His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.

He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.

“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.

Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.

“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.

“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?

“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.

“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.

After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.

“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand. 

“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.

“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.

“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.

“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.

You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.

“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfics #stranger things fic #stranger things fics #stranger things slowburn #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fics #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrinton fanfics #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x femreader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem! reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #joe keery fic #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery fanfic

[unamused-boss]

The Player and The Cheerleader

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader Reader

Summary: All Billy thinks cheerleading is that's it's just flips and splits. The view changes when he has a run in with a certain Hawkins High School cheerleader.

...........................................................................

Billy didn't care for anyone by any means. Either it be in Indiana or California. If he doesn't see you as someone worth his time then he didn't talk to you or give you the time of day. One of those groups in specific were cheerleaders. From his point of view they were only pretty girls to look at, that's pretty much how everyone treated the cheerleader at this point. Pretty things to look at.

The cheerleaders sometimes had to share the gym with the basketball team. Which did peeve some the guys on the team but as long as the cheerleaders were pretty they could handle it. But there was one odd ball on the cheer team, the captain. Always mouthing off the players when they got to close to the cheerleaders or a ball got to close to hitting one of them.

"Hey! Shit for brains!" A voice can be heard from then other side of the gym. "I thought the point of the game was to get the ball in the basket?!"

"Jeezu..." Tommy huffed. "Can you seriously be pissed about the same thing every time? It's just a ball." He answered to you. Clearly tired of your constant shouting at the basketball team when a ball would go the wrong way.

"And it's just balls between your legs, and they can just as easily deflate." You sassed back. To Billy, it was almost comical to watch. You with the tough guy act, puffing up your chest to a dude way taller than you with colorful pompoms in each hand on your hips.

"What a bitch..." Tommy huffed again.

"Oh get over it." Billy snapped. "What's captain pompoms gonna do?" He laughed at his own statement. Like said before he found the whole conversation comical-

WHAM!

A basketball went flying right into Billy Hargroves head. He snapped his head around to see the who had the nerve to hit him. His eyes met with captain pompoms. The two had a stare off. That's what it felt like for the rest of practice. The two practically eyeing each other the entire time.

After that stunt was over, after constant staring at one another, Billy had only one reaction in mind. A big one.

The next day followed. Billy knew where he could cut you off and corner you, in-between Mr. Johnson's chemistry class and Mrs. Shoffer's English literature class. It happened fast no one could react to it, actually you doubt anyone saw it happen. What you thought was just another normal day of school turned out to be more than that. A harsh hold took your arm, taking you away from the crowd into the more secluded part of the hall. Where you came face to face with a fuming Billy. His jaw was clenched and eyes held anger.

"What, you think you're real funny for the shit you pulled yesterday?" He interrogated. "Try it again see what fuckin happens..." His threats did not stop. Well his empty threats. As much as you are terrified of what he could do, you knew he'd never act on them. Your brave front was standing strong. Taking in every threat, comment, and remark he could throw at you. To get a reaction, if you were a guy you would have answered with your fists at his first remark. But you are not. You are you. You knew the exact thing that would make him even more angry.

" You are nothing but scuff on the gym floor, and that's all you will be."

Billy did not like that one bit. Who does this bitch think she is? His fist rose into the air, readying to strike. The force came down, you felt the air brush past your face, to only make contact with a metal locker. The sound ricocheted through the hall.

You open up your eyes. Now, again, staring at him. Anger was not held in his eyes anymore. If was fear and sadness, to you it was peculiar expression to see on his face. The actions that just happened finally caught up to you, you inhale deeply not knowing you stopped breathing. Everything caught up to you.

SLAP! Your hand came down, striking Billy Hargrove in the face. Hard enough to leave a mark. Not knowing that one had just been healed from another hand. "What the hell is your problem?" You yelled, agitated. "God, you fuckin creep." You make your way back to your class leaving Billy stunned. He didn't know what to do. He has never had someone react to him like that before. It intrigued him. He had an interest in you now.

After that encounter Billy made it his mission yo agitate you as much as possible. I mean, how else are you supposed to show someone you like them. From poking you with a pencil in class, purposefully missing the hoop so the ball bounces into your direction, anything at all just so you could look at him. He was succeeding and he was royally pissing you off. Until on fateful autumn day, everyone had gone home for the day. Except for the extracurriculars that took place after school. Two of those being basketball and cheer practice. Just as the practices were about to start, Billy took notice that you weren't with the cheer team. Which he thought was odd, but instead he chose to go smoke a cigarette before practice. He made his way to the small alley like way that was outside the gym that lead to the track field. And the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. there you stood cheer practice outfit and all with a lit cigarette hanging from your lip.

"I thought cheerleaders didn't smoke?" Billy joked to you, giving you his famous smirk.

"And I thought shit stayed in toilets, but I guess I was wrong since you're here." You said taking a huff of your cig.

"Damn, always ready with a comeback are you?" Billy said, lighting his cigarette.

"Why are you messing with me Hargrove?"

"Ouch, last name basis now sweets?"

"Shut up." You won't deny it, that dumb nickname that he started calling you grew on you. "Is this because of me smacking you?"

"No."

"Was it me hitting you with a basketball?"

"No." He said blankly again.

"Then what is it?"

Billy took a huff of his cigarette then looked you in your eyes. No hate or anger, something you can only describe as adoration.

"I find you interesting." Was his only answer.

"What?" you were confused by this answer. What was so interesting about you that made Billy intrigued. " Your like curious about me or something?"

"Exactly."

"You know curiosity killed the cat, Hargrove." You sassed.

"And satisfaction brought it back, and I am not satisfied yet so get used to me sweets." He said taking his cig a stomping it out onto the ground walking away.

You grumbled at his response, inhaling the last of your cigarette with blushing cheeks. Stomping out your cigarette then making your way into practice. 'Why does this asswipe make me blush'.

...........................................................................

Weeks of this teasing have gone by. Everyday Billy would find a new way to make you mad, blush, or embarrassed to get a reaction out of you. He claimed "It's because you so cute." Which made you blush even more. Gosh, you couldn't stand half of the guys at this school. Why was Billy the only one making you feel this way?

Truth be told, Billy had seen you around way before he had met you. How you walk down the hall with your head held high, looking away in disgust at the "popular" kids, over all not conforming to what a cheerleader is by Hawkins view point. You fought, yelled, got in people faces. Billy love all of it, it made him excited. Excited to talk to you and ask you questions, even ones you deem are stupid. All he wanted to do was to be around you. Damn, he loved it in a way.

Practice had ended for the day leading off into the weekend. A light rain pour had come down, everyone else had a ride to get them home. Everyone except you, well you did but he was running very late. Billy made his way outside to find you standing in the walk way waiting to be picked up. Cigarette hanging from your mouth.

"What are you doing here?" Billy asked.

"Waiting." You simply put.

"Do you want a ride?" He asked.

"No, I have a ride." You said. "But he's running late."

"What your boyfriend?" Billy said, the words had jealousy behind them.

"No." You sighed. "My brother you dipshit."

"oh..." He sighed. A silence fell between you two. Not uncomfortable, but nice enough for you two to be around each other. But Billy had something building in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He hated it. He needed to tell you something.

"Hey." He called to you, you turn your head to face him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened."

"What?" You were confused by what he just said.

"I said I'm sorry, did you not hear me?" Billy said, He turned his body to face you. "I said I'm sorry." You just stood there silent. Still taking in the fact he is saying sorry. "I'm sorry that I almost punched you into a locker. I realized I was acting like someone I didn't want to be, and you calling me on my shit. It made me look at you differently. I noticed more about you. How you always make sure the other cheerleaders are okay, how you genuinely care about the people you have around you, and you don't take any shit. And- shit I'm bad at this." He's now embarrassed by everything he just said. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears.

You step toward him, placing your hand on his arm. "I thought you were doing pretty well." You smiled, comforting him in a way. He just looked at you. You never smiled at him directly but now that your smile was intended for him. 'damn' He wants you to smile at him all the time.

"Do you want to go on a date?" He asked straight out. You were shocked by his forwardness, but not entirely surprised.

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?" He made it seem like you were speaking a different language. "Listen one date is all I ask, her if you still think I'm a piece of shit I'll stop everything that I'm doing."

Your smile grew even wider. "I would love to go on a date with you Billy."

"Dang, back on first name basis already? Looks like I'm getting a second date already." He joked to you, in turn caused you to laugh.

For the remainder of your time you and Billy talked till you had been picked up. You both talked about anything and everything. It was pure bliss, you loved every second of it. You both were abruptly interrupted by the honking of your brothers car.mYou said your goodbyes to make your way to the car. The smile that held your face did not drop. I didn't drop on Billy's either, when getting home Max found it incredibly disturbing to see her step brother so giddy.

That following night Billy arrived to your house to take you on your promised date. Which one date turned into another and another and another. Till it reached throughout the whole school that Billy Hargrove and the cheer captain were finally official. With many guys questioning Billy as to why he picked you out of everyone, to which he said if they insulted you again he had no problem with dealing with them himself. Girls just snuffed their noses up to you since you now made Billy officially off the market. Not like you cared, he's your boyfriend now and you have him all to yourself. So you could say everything did work out in the end. You and Billy have each other.

"So I guess we have Tommy to thank since he is the reason we met?" You joked.

"Hell no, I would have went after you even if you didn't hit me with that basket ball." He smirk.

"Jeez, you are something Billy." You smiled, leaning into him to seal your lips in a kiss. Yeah, nothing could beat this.

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#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x fem reader #gn reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x female #billy hargrove fluff #enemies to lovers #cheerleader #chrissy cunningham #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #max mayfield #robin buckley #eddie munson

[mizading]

Breaking Up With JJK Men

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami. 

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, obsessiveness, mentions of death, begging, threatening, stalking, paranoia, etc. 

Synopsis: How these JJK men react to you attempting to leave.

Satoru Gojo:

The type to beg

Gojo would immediately break down. He can’t bear you leaving; he’s lost too much already.

Something about Geto walking out of his life prior makes Gojo unhealthily attached and dependent on you. You’re Gojo’s safe place; he can’t lose you, no matter what.

Before you can say another word, he’s on his knees at your feet, holding onto your legs as tight as he possibly can. Gojo will refuse to let go unless you agree to stay with him.

He’s a crying mess, tears soaking your legs, hair disheveled as he sobs uncontrollably. As much as Gojo wants to control his emotions, he simply can’t.

If you still don’t give in, He’ll cup your face, forcing you to look in his direction to “see what you did to him”. Gojo tries to win you back the only way he knows how, by begging and making you feel absolutely awful for what you caused.

Before you know it, he’s wrapping his large frame around you, keeping you trapped in his tight embrace. If Gojo has to keep you with him using force, then he’ll go there in a heartbeat. 

He apologizes for his excessive touch, but he needed to feel you in some way to help soothe himself. Gojo was practically having a panic attack before your eyes.

As Gojo locks you in his embrace, he can’t help but express how much he needs you. Gojo doesn’t know how he’ll manage without you; is there any point to life with you gone? Regardless of what you think, Gojo truly needs you.

Your heart breaks seeing him in this state—body shaking, eyes dull, and choking on his own sobs. Did you really have the heart to leave him? Seeing the strongest man alive behave in such a way over you leaving affected you mentally.

If you decide to stay, it’ll take a long time to improve his state. He needs to be 100% sure that you won't change your mind or leave when he’s off guard. Gojo becomes annoyingly attached to you physically; he cannot keep his hands to himself.

Gojo will slowly but surely get better. He’s still quite clingy weeks after the event, but he seems to be in the right headspace for the most part.

In the end, he’s just relieved to have his baby with him.

Suguru Geto:

The type to threaten

Geto’s first instinct is to laugh. He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you’re only joking with him. When he finds out that you’re being serious, his entire demeanor changes.

Everything quickly turns bitter. Are you really going to leave after everything that he’s done for you? Geto finds it comical.

One thing that Geto will make clear is that you won't be leaving. He can’t seem to accept it, so it won’t happen.

The way that his dark, haunting eyes bore into your soul makes you immediately rethink your decision. How could such a warm and comforting face turn so dull and haunting?

Geto will blankly stare into your eyes silently, allowing you to change your mind before things get worse.

You’ll suddenly be pulled into his lap, harsh enough for you to notice his slight hostility but soft enough for you to not say anything.

“You don’t want to find out what I'll do to myself if you leave, right?” His words made you nauseous almost instantly. Geto spoke in a soft, comforting voice, but his words were sick.

He would caress your hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your temple, allowing his words to sink into your pretty little head. “I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to be the one to blame if I went through with anything precious”.

It was all sick; he was doing it on purpose. You knew that Geto struggled with his purpose of living, but you never knew that he would go to this level.

You couldn’t fathom the thought of not having Geto in this world; you still loved him even if you wanted to separate from him. You agreed to stay for the sake of keeping Geto alive.

Geto reverts back to his usual gentle self almost immediately when you tell him that you’ll stay. It was scary how rapidly he could change. Geto knew this, and he used it to his advantage.

Even if you planned to go through with leaving, he wouldn’t have let you. You’re his main purpose for living; Geto can’t lose that.

Kento Nanami:

The type to stalk

Nanami would spend a bit of time asking you to reconsider, but if you want to leave, he’ll let you go.

A few tears will be shed, but not much. Nanami doesn’t waste too much time begging because he knows that you’ll ultimately end up doing what you want.

Before you leave, Nanami will ask you for at least a hug and a kiss. As heartless as Nanami seems, he loves you to bits and pieces.

Nanami didn’t plan on stalking you; it just happened. He started by simply driving to your house to give him peace of mind, then peeking through your windows late at night.

A few weeks after the breakup, you take notice of an unfaltering feeling that someone is watching you. There wasn’t necessarily anything out of place; you just felt it. You couldn’t tell if it was because you were alone now or if someone was actually watching you.

Once you finally let the feeling go, everything gets worse. It starts with flowers at your doorsteps daily. You couldn't help but shake the feeling that Nanami might have been the one doing it.

It all escalated to feeling followed every time you left the house. You couldn’t help but notice someone's presence every now and then when you were about your day. You started to leave the house less and less because of it.

Nanami feels guilty for following you around, but he can't help it. Nanami can't bear the thought of something happening to you when he’s not there to protect you. His only resort is to secretly keep an eye on you as much as he can.

Everything was unbearable. Ever since the breakup, you have felt terribly paranoid and scared. You sit up at night sometimes thinking about how safe you would be if you had only stayed with Nanami.

You attempt to continue on with your life, but none of it ends. Your paranoia was consuming you whole. Thoughts of just running back to Nanami were becoming excruciatingly loud. Who else would protect you?

You tried desperately to continue on without him, but the truth is that you couldn’t. Not before long, you found yourself at his door once again. Regardless of whether he was stalking you or not, you just wanted it all to end.

Nanami would happily welcome you back with open arms. His desperation for you led to him doing things that he never thought he would do.

Nanami puts your mind at ease when you explain what you went through after leaving. He made sure to make you feel like he could protect you from absolutely everything in this world, which is why you came back.

Nanami can’t help but have some type of guilt in the back of his mind because of what he did to you. At least he has his baby back in his arms.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto headcanons #geto x reader #geto suguru #nanami headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami kento #anime

[sleepyangelkami]

ECHOING NEED (c.g)

a/n: whump-ish drabble to tie y'all over while i write a smutty series !

pairing: carl grimes x fem!reader

summary: you come home dishevelled as ever after being missing for an entire week and carl attempts to pull the question out of you, where had you been.

warnings: blood + gore, violence, ptsd, traumatised reader, mentions of the saviors, medical attention, reader has hair, swearing, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🤎

words: 803

you sat against the infirmary chair, hair matted against your bloody forehead. the bags beneath your eyes were not a light pinkish colour but a deep purple, eyes cast away, as if your mind was replaying the moments you were trying so desperately to forget.

in all the time that carl had known you, he'd never seen you in such a state.

"you're okay, baby." his words fell on deaf ears, his hands gently soothing against the bloodied fabric of your jeans. in all the while he'd been staring at you, you hadn't dared to look back. "you're safe, you're home."

above him, denise stood over you, attempting to tend to the wound that sat on your forehead. a gash, deep enough, possibly the worst out of all the wounds your body had encountered.

behind him, glenn and rick stood. glenn had been the one to find you.

"help! someone help!" his words caught the resident's of alexandria's ears with evident stress. "somebody help me!"

carl had been standing with his father, ready to give everything up. there was a bag slung across his shoulder and his brows were furrowed together angrily. he was arguing, stating he was able to go find you himself, he wasn't going to wait on the people of alexandria to do their job. they were simply doing it too slow.

then he heard it, the stressed yells from glenn and daryl dixon standing off to the side, his face held little expression, but there was something in his eyes that sent a shiver running down carl's spine.

you, laid in glenn's arms, limp and covered in blood.

you woke in the infirmary minutes after you'd been placed on the bed. then, you'd downright begged to be sat on a chair, you didn't want to lay down, not with the flashing lights above you and everyone standing around, looking down at you.

you'd cried, begged and then you hadn't opened your mouth again.

"sweetheart?" carl had been trying to coax it out of you. what had happened, where you were. ricks questions didn't help and carl rushed forward, stating he could do it. you needed him. always. "what happened?" your eyes slowly turned to him, tears stinging the red outer corners, he'd wondered how long it'd been since you slept. he felt denise walk away, joining rick and glenn. "baby, I need you to talk to me."

you shook your head again, eyes letting the tears fall loose. "carl." you choked out, unable to breathe. all you wanted was to be cuddled up against him in his bed as he read his comics to you.

"hey, you're home, you're home." he sat up on his knees against the chair. his arms slowly wrapped around you. "nothing's gonna hurt you anymore, not while I'm here."

you knew carl enough to know he wasn't lying about that.

"baby, just tell me what happened." his fingers soothed against your hair. "just tell me what happened and it'll all go away."

oh how desperately you wanted to believe that. and in all your pain, throbbing head and haunting memories behind your eyes, your echoing need for your boyfriend was evident. "the saviors." you practically whimpered out, unable to keep it inside for any longer.

"atta girl." you felt him mumble into your hair as he took you into his arms.

for the first time in days, you felt at peace. his arms around you, soothing you gently as he hushed and cooed. you could finally bring yourself to sob, cry and ache for what had happened. carl only felt his own eye tear up lightly. he hated to hear you cry but he held you nonetheless. as much as he despised seeing you upset, he'd rather it be him than anyone else in the world comforting you. and he knew you wouldn't have wanted it any other way either.

it didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, obviously sleep deprived from wherever you'd been. carl didn't hesitate to lift you to the bed, draping a blanket over you and holding your hand gently.

he'd make sure he was the first you'd see when you'd wake up.

by now, it was just you, he and rick in the hospital room. his eye slowly lifted to his father, evident anger on his face. not even anger, pure rage. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."

rick only pursed his lips. "she needs you right now." hoping his son didn't run to do something stupid.

"I know." gazing softly at your sleeping features. "I'll take care of her until she's better. then negan better count his fucking days."

rick couldn't even argue. on the contrary, he and the rest of the group were going to help.

the saviors should know better than to mess with you.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

a/n: writing this on my phone and currently sleep deprived please ignore !!

#carl #grimes #carl grimes #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl x you #carl grimes x you #carl x y/n #carl grimes x y/n #carl imagine #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes drabble #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes smut #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes angst #carl drabble #carl oneshot #carl smut #carl fluff #carl angst #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd imagine #twd fluff #twd angst #twd oneshot

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter five - late library nights

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1337

author's note: hello friends!!! it has almost been a month and i would like to offer my sincerest apologies!!!! i have entered my final semester of university so things have been rather hectic. i appreciate all the love you guys have given this series this far <3 thanks for being the absolute best. kiss kiss

also if i missed you for the taglist plz let me know!!! its been a min hehe

song inspiration: bewitched by laufey

Thanks to Lavender’s rather loose lips, the entire student body of Hogwarts seemed to be buzzing about your secret, not-so-secret admirer. Three days later and you could still hear the giggles of second-year girls as they discussed just who your mystery man could be steps behind you and your friends. You even had to endure a public love confession from both Fred and George, the red-headed twins bickering and quarreling over who loved you more in their newest prank. They both claimed to have been your secret admirer and demanded that you choose the twin you cared for more. It quickly devolved into a passionate, highly embarrassing competition that had the crowd which had slowly grown howling in laughter. George had even torn his shirt open, claiming that ‘the fires of love were burning within him and that clothes could not contain his ardent affection any longer.’ The whole affair might have been more comical had you not been its victim. Suffice to say you were adequately embarrassed, as if the burning blush on your face had not been enough evidence to that fact.

However, even with all the attention now placed on you and your secret admirer, no one had sincerely come forward to claim responsibility. You could hardly blame them, given the reactions of your fellow students. Still, you couldn’t help yourself grow more and more curious as days continued to pass without any additional clues.

“So…I hear you’ve got yourself a bit of an admirer, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned towards Theo to find a smirk resting smugly on his face. “Merlin, not you too, Theo. I swear it’s impossible to go ten minutes without someone mentioning it.”

Theo laughed at your response and the obvious annoyance in your expression. “Bit of a touchy subject?”

You sighed. “Sorry. It’s just—bloody hell, I’ve got loads of people coming up to me trying to chat about it and well, it’s a bit much.”

The tall Slytherin nodded as he scanned his Potions textbook, looking for the next set of directions for the Wolfsbane potion you were currently brewing. “I didn’t mean to pry, really—”

“No, no it’s all right. I’m just a bit on edge recently.” You and Theo both reached for the crushed moonstone, hands bumping clumsily into each other. “Sorry, ‘m all over the place today.”

Theo gave you a gentle smile before grasping the vial, gingerly adding it before meeting your eyes with his own. “S’all right. Besides, we both know it’s better if I handle things, considering I’m the better Potions student any—ow!” Theo rubbed his arm where you had lightly smacked him.

“Just because you beat me by one whole point on the last test doesn’t mean—”

“It means I am better than—Salazar, woman!” This time Theo rubbed his other arm which you may or may not have hit. “You’ve got to come up with a better comeback than physical assault. I could report you to Slughorn, you know.”

“Oh please, you’d never snitch on me, Theo. We’re potions partners after all—you’re stuck with me.”

A wide grin made its way onto Theo’s face, along with the faintest blush that he desperately hoped you couldn’t see in the dim lighting of the classroom. “Yeah, ‘spose I am.” Realizing he was looking at you in a bit of a daze, he cleared his throat. “I forgot to mention, Pucey’s set a last-minute quidditch practice for this afternoon. I know we’re meant to work on the project for anti-venoms, but is there any chance we could push it until later?”

“Tsk, tsk, Theodore. Choosing quidditch over Potions, eh? And you call yourself the best Potions student?” you teased. Theo let out a sharp laugh, dropping three murtlap tentacles into the cauldron bubbling before you. “That works for me, actually. Where did you want to meet?”

“I can catch up with you on the quidditch pitch. We can head over to the library from there.” Stirring the concoction clockwise, Theo looked at you from the corner of his eye, “Thanks for being flexible.”

“’Course. It’s what you would expect from the best Potions student, right?”

“Alright, pipe down.”

“You’re no fun, Theo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now hand me the wolfsbane leaves.”

“Only if you admit I’m the better Potions student.”

“Y/n.”

“…Here you go.”

Tugging at the sleeves of your sweater, you made your way towards the quidditch pitch, just as the sun was starting to set over the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. The practice had evidently just ended as players began to descend from the sky at the sound of Captain Adrian Pucey’s dismissal. Walking over, you saw Theo dismounting from his broom alongside Enzo. Upon spotting you, the pair walked over to greet you.

“Rough practice, huh?” The boys before you were out of breath, chests heaving with obvious exhaustion.

Enzo gave you a look, “You’ve no idea.” Beside him, Theo nodded in agreement.

“Pucey’s got his tail in a twist about the game this weekend against Gryffindor,” Theo said. “We can’t catch a break.” Theo grabbed the end of his practice jersey to wipe at the sweat on his brow, revealing a lean, toned abdomen. His tongue swiped quickly at his pink lips as he continued to breathe heavily. As he let go of his jersey, one of his hands went to run through his unruly curls and you couldn’t help but stare at the more than pleasant image before you.

Fucking hell…Godric save me.

As if sensing your train of thought, Enzo smirked, mirth dancing in his eyes.

The sound of Theo’s Italian accent broke your reverie. “I’ve got to hit the showers, so I’ll be ten minutes or so. You alright with waiting?”

Clutching your Potions textbook to your chest, you nodded, giving Enzo’s look of obvious amusement a glare. “’M fine. Go ahead.”

Theo flashed that wide grin of his that you were becoming fond of before trotting off to join the other players in the locker rooms. By now, Enzo’s grin had become a full-on beam.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Enzo—well, don’t think it.”

The Slytherin raised his hands in mock confusion. “What could you possibly mean, Y/n? I was just wondering—”

“Enzo, don’t make me hit you with this book.”

“Jeez, I guess Theo wasn’t lying when he said you were violent.”

“Hey!”

Hours later in the library, you swore words were beginning to dance off the pages of the endless tomes you and Theo had been rummaging through for your upcoming project. Beside you, Theo seemed to feel the same exhaustion, groaning as his forehead dropped onto one of the thick volumes.

Grasping your quill, you gently brushed the feather by Theo’s ear to grasp his attention. Still faceplanted in a book, the tired boy simply turned his head towards you rather than sitting upright.

“I reckon we call it a night, yeah?” Theo’s curls shook as he nodded his head, eyes beginning to droop in exhaustion. “You’ve probably got to be up early for the game tomorrow too.” Your Potions partner glared at you for the reminder before finally sitting up.

You began to tidy up the sprawled-out texts before Theo broke the quiet resting over the library. “You going?”

Turning to look at him, you paused, “Going to what?”

Theo laughed softly, “The game, Y/n.”

“Oh.” You grinned sheepishly, “I don’t know. Hadn’t decided yet.”

Theo hummed at your response. Moving sluggishly, he began to help you pack up.

“Well…you should go. It’s supposed to be a good one.” You met Theo’s eyes that were already peering into yours.  

“You want me to go, huh? To show off or something?”

Theo laughed at you, gently flicking one of your hands reaching for a stray quill. “Or something.”

You smiled, “Well, if you want me there, I’m there.”

Having finished packing up, Theo stood in front of you and mirrored your grin. “Well, I do…want you there, that is.”

Walking out of the library together, you gently bumped the taller boy’s shoulder. “Then, I’m there.”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7, @adoraspace, @spencerreidsthings, @crimsntwlip, @readingthingsonhere, @sbrn0905, @violet2022, @aemiliazzz, & @hoeforvinniehackerrr

#yall its been a MONTH #mine #harry potter #harry potter au #lovebotmo writing #theodore nott x reader #lovebotmo #slytherin boys #theo nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanficsl #slytherin boys x you #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #theodore nott fanfic #Spotify

[maknaeswrld]

a life remembered | l.mh, h.js

wc: 4.6k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: primarily Han pov; illusions to suggestive conversation; concert highs; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I feel like they need a warning lol, love them the most); arguing but bc they care (not between the soulmates); please let me know if I missed anything

part one: a life forgotten

Soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

When Lee Minho walked into JYP Entertainment for the first time, Jisung didn’t know what to do or how to react, and looking back on it now, it was comical. Minho was, in Jisungs opinion, one of, if not the most, handsome man he’d ever seen. It had struck a chord in him he’d chosen to interpret as jealousy.

When Chan told him he wanted to include Minho in the group he was creating, Jisung couldn’t decide if he was giddy or nervous. He’d met the other boy twice and couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that they knew each other. It wasn’t until their third meeting, the first one in an official capacity, to learn the song Chan wanted to showcase, that Jisung realized why.

The small space of the practice room they were designated to made the group circle a tight one, Minho rushing in and dropping to the floor in the open spot between Jisung and Felix, accidentally brushing against Jisung in the process and shooting them both headfirst into a memory both could swear wasn’t theirs.

Water surrounded them in every direction, the sounds of laughter filling the air. The ship rocked gently as the waves pushed it along steadily.

Minho took Jisungs hand, leading him to the edge of the ship. 

“Where is your beautiful mind right now, my love?” 

And although it didn’t feel like he was talking to Minho, and there was no response, Jisung’s smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling in pure content.

“Come back to the group, love. The boys are going to start their whining if you ignore them for too long.” Minho groaned.

Again there was no response, as if a chunk of their memory for this specific moment was still missing.

“You know how your boys can get.” Jisung waved nonchalantly, hand grasping at thin air before the two turned back to join the rest of the crew.

Practice was immediately derailed as they were brought back to the present, everyone looking worried as they surrounded the pair.

“What just happened?” Changbin asked, holding Jisungs shoulder to keep him steady.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Jisung couldn’t stop himself from seeking out Minho’s eyes, which were already on him, holding the softest expression Jisung has ever seen in his life.

“Please tell me you saw the ship too.” Minho whispered, voice unsure, hand grasping Jisungs for dear life and all he could do was nod. Minho started nodding along with him, the two slowly morphing from shock to joy as smiles spread across their faces.

Tears pricked at Jisungs eyes the more the realization hit him.

“We’re soulmates.”

````

Five years. 

In five years, so much had changed for Han Jisung. In just five years he’d met not only the love of his life, but also his soul brothers, a realization they came to some time after the soulmate realization, as Minho and Jisung saw the rest of the members in almost all of their past lives. 

In five years Stray Kids had also risen to a level of fame not one of them had predicted. They were living a life their younger selves could have only hoped to dream of, and they were so beyond grateful and happy to be able to keep doing music together.

But also within those five years, Minho and Jisung had come to the conclusion that something was missing. They were absolutely positive that they were soulmates, of that there was not even a shadow of a doubt, but there were too many holes in their shared memories, conversations that felt one sided, moments in bed with a gap between them that shouldn't be there if they were at peace with one another. But the confirmation that they were missing a piece came in a memory that surfaced much later than the rest, one with Jisung storming up to Minho’s door, fist banging in anger, wedding band adorning his finger but not Minho’s. 

That memory was one of Jisung being angry with Minho and not even knowing who he was, with Minho knowing of Jisung but not knowing him personally, of them both being in love with a person that wasn’t the other. Minho is positive he’d despise cheaters in every life, yet was accused of sleeping with a married person. Neither Jisung, nor Minho could remember Jisungs spouse's name, what they looked like, what gender they were, all they knew was that both of them loved them, and they both loved them as desperately as they love one another, and that was enough to convince them that the piece missing was a third soulmate.

They didn’t know how to go about it, they couldn’t even be allowed to share the truth of their relationship and thousands of Stays were claiming to be each members soulmates daily just for a chance of meeting them. The chances of finding their third and final piece was slim at absolute best. 

People always say trust the soulmate connection and that time would bring them together, but that was hard knowing you couldn’t remember someone you love. 

Han Jisung spent far too many concerts and fan meets searching the crowd in hopes that you’d be there, that he’d finally find you and the trio would finally be complete. Likewise, he’d spent just as many nights disappointed that you were nowhere to be found. With their fame came the higher likelihood of you being able to find them, but that also meant it’d be harder for them to find you. However, Chan and his soulmate, Riley, gave Jisung hope that he would find you.

Lee Minho wanted to find you just as badly, though he looked for you in the mundane. Whilst his partner expected you to reach out via their fame, Minho hoped more for bumping into you on the sidewalk or in a coffee shop, it made him feel more attainable. Minho knew that whilst Riley and Chan made it work, and even Bee and Changbin, there were just as many people that would be scared off by celebrity soulmates as there are seeking them. 

Another concert, another night of Jisung daydreaming about finding you in the crowd and whisking you away after to finally meet you and remember you. Riley gave Chan a knowing glare, the parental figures of the group concerned about their younger friend. Ever since the two soulmates came to the conclusion they have a third one, which isn’t unheard of but is fairly rare, their friends have been doubtful to say the least. 

No one likes seeing the kicked puppy look on Jisungs face whenever someone mentions that maybe there isn’t anyone else out there, or the way Minho gets defensive when they try to talk to him about the possibility of their memories just not having fully solidified yet. Both in the firm belief that five years connected at the hip was enough time to remember everything. But that didn’t stop the worried glances and strained smiles when they’d start talking about their ‘other soulmate’.

“They’re gonna be here tonight.” Jisung stated as if it were an absolute fact.

“You said that last night, Sungie.” Hyunjin muttered.

“Yeah, but I can feel it this time. They’re in the crowd right now, I’m positive of it.”

“Ji, you have an incredible soulmate already, why are you so eager to find another one?” Bee asked from their almost permanent place snuggled into Changbin. “I’m just saying, I can’t imagine dealing with more than one Binnie.”

“They’re not another Minho, they’re mine and Min’s missing piece.” Jisung argued. It was a conversation that felt all too familiar, and every time one of his soul brothers or other lifetime friends make comments, he feels himself getting just a little more hostile but also a little more defeated.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe there wasn’t a missing piece and they truly just haven’t had the best relationship in every lifetime. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to believe that. Seeing how whole Bee and Bin, and Riley and Chan, were, how they didn’t have memory gaps or questionable moments and conversations, made him feel like there was no other explanation aside from another person to fill the void. It wasn’t like Jisung thought Minho wasn’t enough for him, he wasn’t seeking more from outside their relationship, he loved Minho with every fiber of his being, but he knew Minho wasn’t the only one he’d hold these feelings towards. And Minho knew it too, it was a long conversation to have, one that ended in tears but mutual understanding that they would always have each other and weren’t seeking out this third person for any reason other than them wholeheartedly believing they are also their soulmate.

As the time to go on stage got closer and closer, Jisung felt more antsy. He wasn’t sure why tonight felt different, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Minho tried to calm him down, but was just as on edge. 

The concert went smoothly, they always did, but Minho and Jisung both spent far more time engaging towards one specific area than they ever had before. It’s like they couldn’t abandon the section for longer than a few minutes and they always ended up right back there the second they could. Jisung felt better than he had in a long time, adrenaline pumping through his veins and a smile plastered on his face. He felt good, he felt whole for the first time in a long time. Jisung couldn’t explain it, but that stage was the most at home he’d felt since he first found Minho.

As they said their goodbyes to Stay and made their way backstage, the overwhelming peace Jisung had felt slowly faded. He couldn’t think of any reason why, but as he watched Riley smother his leader with kisses and Bee put his best friend into a headlock, he felt himself growing more numb. 

Minho wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder, relieving the aching feeling sinking in so fast it would have given Jisung whiplash if he weren’t already used to the other boys' affect on him, body and mind. Jisung could feel giggles bubbling up in him with each soft kiss placed on the base of his neck.

“You were radiant out there tonight, my love.”

“And you were very sexy.” Jisung giggled.

“Hey now! There are children present!” Riley scolded, breaking away from Chan to cover Jeongin’s ears. “Go foreplay somewhere else.”

“Yeah!” Bee shouted from Changbin’s back. “There’s dressing rooms for a reason!”

The look of absolute dismay Riley shot Bee was priceless, “That’s not what the dressing rooms are for.” 

“It’s not? Did you know that bro?”

Changbins ears were red. “Please don’t call me bro while talking about this.”

“How about we just all get showered and changed and go grab something to eat?” Chan suggested in a tone that left no room for argument, clapping his hands together and pulling Riley back towards his body. “And stop babying Innie, he’s worse than Bee these days.”

“I will never stop babying my baby, but I am hungry.” Riley muttered in agreement. “If y’all take too long in the shower, we’re leaving without you.” Riley pointed at Bee and Changbin, who’s ears somehow got even more red. Bee just winked at their best friend, shiteating grin plastered on their face.

Twenty minutes later, Jisung piled into the van with his bandmates and additional soulmates, Seungmin and Hyunjin discussing what they wanted to eat whilst Felix snuggled into Bee’s side, the two looking at memes while Changbin pouted.

Jisung felt more drained than he had in a long time, his social battery past empty and moved on to completely fried. Minho pulling him into his side eased some of the anxiousness starting to well up.

“No panic attacks after amazing shows.” Minho whispered.

Jisung buried his head further into the other mans neck. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” He kissed the crown of his head gently, smiling softly while tightening his hold. “I’m seriously so proud of you.”

The ride was uneventful out to the opposite side of the city, in hopes less people would recognize them so they could have their meal in peace. Minho and Jisung were the last of the group to venture out of the vehicle and towards the restaurant. They didn’t get too far before a voice rapping along to Han’s part to All In stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Y/n, please, you’re in public.” 

“You’re wasting your breath, you know how they are about their spotlight songs.”

Han’s eyes landed on the person rapping his line with such ease it was as if they’d written it themself. He felt excitement flood through him instantaneously, rushing over and joining them, singing along to the song playing quietly in the outdoor speakers overhead.

He watched your eyes light up as the two of you sang along together, ignoring your friends and focusing on one another. Not a thing in the world was registering to either of you as you both turned to Minho, watching as he rolled his eyes, smile already playing at his lips, joining in for the last parts of the song.

Your laughter filled the air as the song came to an end, and Jisung could swear it was already becoming one of his favorite sounds. 

“Took you long enough.”

Your voice was laced with amusement.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You know I don’t like singing by myself.” You nudged his shoulder lightly, causing him to wrap his arm around your shoulders and squeeze tight.

“But your voice is so nice!”

A blush lit up your cheeks in an instant, mouth opening to respond when someone clearing their throat behind you drew the groups attention.

“Y/n, um, what?”

“Min! Sungie! Hurry your asses up or we’re gonna eat without you.” Bee shouted from down the way, drawing Jisungs attention just long enough for you to slip out of his hold.

By the time he or Minho could focus back on you, you were gone. No trace of a person having been standing with them, as if you’d been a figment of their imagination.

“Sungie…”

“I know.”

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Minho was staring off into the direction you had to have gone in, itching to run after you. Jisung stared at his hands, in disbelief that just moments prior he was holding the final piece of his puzzle in those same hands.

You, the random stranger unabashedly performing one of their songs in the middle of the street, were the one person Jisung and Minho had been looking for incessantly. The person they knew they couldn’t remember. 

“Do you ever wonder what we’d be like if we didn’t find each other? What’d it’d be like if we don’t keep finding each other?”

Jisung was used to thinking these types of questions, but hearing you ask them out loud hurt more than him thinking them ever did.

“I’d rather imagine we’ll always find each other.” Jisung grumbled, tightening his hold on both of the bodies on either side of his.

“Okay but what if-”

“There are no what if’s, my love. We’ll always find one another, in every lifetime, even if some take a little longer than others. I don’t see a reason to dwell on the impossibility of not ending up right back here every single time.”

You snuggled deeper into Jisungs chest, hand squeezing Minho’s.

“I suppose you’re right.” You mumbled. Minho squeezed your hand comfortingly in response. 

Jisungs arms shifted entirely around you, squeezing as he rolled over to toss you in the middle, both of your soulmates wanting to hold you close. You sighed in content, snuggling into your boys happily.

“I am so dead serious right now, you two. We will absolutely eat without you if you don’t- why do your faces look like that?”

“We found them.”

“Found who? Why are you being cryptic.”

“We found our other soulmate.” Jisung said.

Bee’s mouth dropped open and within moments all of their brothers and Riley were there, bombarding them with questions.

“Okay, so is no one surprised that they actually have another soulmate? Is that just me?” Hyunjin said, a smack from Seungmin following shortly after. 

“Which direction did they go? We need to find them!” Jeongin said, already shifting from one foot to the other as if he were ready to sprint in any direction in a moments notice. 

“We didn’t actually see what direction they went in because somebody distracted us.” Jisung glared at Bee.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m hungry and didn’t know.” They huffed.

“We were facing that way so they definitely couldn’t have gone in that direction.” Minho cut in, knowing a grumpy Jisung and a hangry Bee is never a good combination. They loved each other like siblings but damn could they argue until they both turned blue.

“Alright, everyone pick a direction and let's find our boys’ soulmate.” Chan said, “Go in pairs and meet here in one hour, no exceptions. Even if everyone comes back empty handed, we have to at least try.” Turning to his first and last children, his eyes and tone softened. “Is there anything we can use to recognise them?”

Jisung immediately jumped into a full description, followed by Minho simply saying, “Ask if they know ‘All In’. They were singing it with us just now.”

Nods all around as people started pairing up.

“Okay, I’m going with Ji.” Riley stated, looping their arm through Jisungs. “Channie, you take Min. Bin and Bee, separate. I am not dealing with soulmates getting distracted and off mission right now.”

Before Jisung could even think about protesting, he was being swept away by Riley in the first direction he would have guessed you ran in. Jisung struggled to keep up with the pace set by Riley as they ducked into shops and restaurants, checking bathrooms and fitting rooms as they went. Riley wanted to cover as much ground as possible in the one hour timeframe given, which Jisung was appreciative of. However, Jisung hoped Minho and Chan were having better luck, or anyone else for that matter.

He wanted to find you more than anything. Knowing he had you in his arms was enough for him to get addicted to you, and if he stopped for a moment and focused on his memories, he was sure you were already fitting yourself into almost every single one..

Every one sided conversation suddenly being completed, all those nights spent with an unnecessary space between himself and Minho being filled by you. Your presence for those four minutes he got with you had already led to a downward spiral of need to be close to you, to hold you in his arms once more.

In combination with the presence of you in old memories, as if you’d always been there, there was also a small onslaught of new memories, ones without Minho but including you. Ones that further solidified your rightful place within his life.

As another memory flashed behind his eyes, he took a seat on a bench outside of a small corner store.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked, always a mother hen.

“I’m fine, just, check this one without me, I need a moment.”

Riley seemed to understand and didn’t ask questions as they pat him on the back and wandered into the store.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” A voice whispered in your ear as hands made their way around your waist. “Because I feel like we’ve met before and I’d like to get to know you again.”

You could smell the stench of alcohol emanating off the stranger feeling you up in the middle of the dance floor. Rolling your eyes, you ripped his hands off you, turning around and shoving him back for safe measure. 

“I do believe in soulmates, and you sure as hell ain’t mine. But the guy who is doesn’t really take kindly to strangers touching what's his.” 

Before the idiot could open his mouth again, Jisungs arm slid into place across your shoulders, pulling you in for a downright make out session right in the middle of the bars dance floor.

When he finally pulled away, the dude was nowhere to be seen.

“Took you long enough.” You said teasingly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He smiled gently, and then led you to the booth he’d been watching you from.

You shook your head as you splashed water on your face in the bathroom, your best friend, Lia, pacing behind you.

“I thought you wanted to avoid them?”

Lia was the only person you’d confided in after coming to terms with the fact that your soulmates were not one, but two international superstars.

“I did, but, I don’t know. It was like being like that with them was so natural I didn’t even register that we don’t know each other. It felt right.”

“Do you think they know?”

Sighing, you lightly tapped your head against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know. If they don’t yet, we’ve met now, it’s only a matter of time before I start filtering into their memories.”

“Do you want to keep hiding from them? Y/n/n, they know now, there’s no avoiding them not remembering you anymore. Don’t you think avoiding them now will just cause unnecessary pain?”

“I know that! I do. But, I’m not sure I could handle being in their world, and what if they end up resenting me for ruining the good thing they already had? They’ve been together for so long, and then I just blindside them with my existence? What if they didn’t even know they had a third soulmate?”

“Then they do now and they’re probably looking everywhere for them. Those two don’t seem like the type to resent you for coming into their lives, but they might if you enter it just to disappear forever. I get the feeling now that they know, they’ll never stop looking for you. Do you understand that?”

You opened your mouth to answer when the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just looking for someone.” The stranger looked flushed, as if they’d been running, but even so you could tell they were stunning. “Um, neither of you happen to know the song All In, do you?”

You and Lia shot each other confused but nervous looks, which seemed to be enough for this stranger who finally let the bathroom door shut behind them, leaning against it and eyeing you both.

“So which one of you is the runner?”

“What do you mean?”

“One of you just met your two soulmates and then booked it while they had their backs turned, which was it?”

Lia threw her hands up in defense, pointing at you in the process and backing up.

“Traitor.” You mumbled, causing her to stifle a laugh.

The stranger blocking the exit landed their gaze on you, “I ran too.”

Of all the things you were expecting them to say, that was definitely not on the list of possibilities.

“It’s scary,” They continued, pushing off the door and walking towards you. “But the separation is worse. I promise you, it’s better than you can possibly imagine. The company takes good care of us, and while we aren’t allowed to be public, we go pretty much everywhere with the boys if we want to. They don’t do anything to risk our relationships.”

“I’m sorry but, who are you and what do you mean by our?”

“Oh! I’m Riley, I’m Chan’s soulmate. And Changbin found his as well, their name is Bee. I went through the running and being scared of falling for someone in the industry but Bee was already in the industry themself when they found Bin, so it was slightly easier for them. Sorry, I’m rambling, but my point is we’re both here for you and we both understand how you’re feeling. And that those men you just left in the dust are two of the best I’ve ever met, and they’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

That comment shocked you to your core. 

They’ve been looking for you.

“How could they be looking for me, they couldn’t have even known about me.”

Riley seemed to hesitate. “To be honest, none of us believed them. For a while we really just assumed that they found each other at such a young age they’ve never experienced anything but one another, so the whole third soulmate thing was just sort of a way to come to terms with the fact that they wanted a change of pace or something. But, here you are, and we stand corrected. 

“They may not have known you, or known how to find you, but they’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.” Then Riley quirked their head in a very parental like motion. “You already knew, didn’t you.”

It was phrased as a question, but was completely an irrefutable statement.

“How long have you known?” Where you were expecting harshness or judgment, you received only the sound of sheer curiosity.

“Almost a year now.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around yourself for a sense of security. 

Riley blanched. “A YEAR?!”

You just nodded. 

“Damn hun, I would’ve lost my mind if I’d known who Chris was for a whole year. How the hell did you manage that?!”

“By convincing themself that Minho and Han were already happy and better off without them, that they’d just throw a hitch in their lives that they didn’t need.” Lia stated, you could practically hear her rolling her eyes at you. Riley’s eyes softened at her words.

Grabbing your hands in one hand, Riley brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, gently cupping your cheek. “I know exactly how you feel. When I found Chris, I ran too. I didn’t think I could survive his work schedule, the expectations placed on him, all the fans claiming him, but he is so worth every single difficulty and so much more. I know you’re scared right now, and it’s probably worse for you because it’s just Chris and me, but Min and Ji already adore you, they could never be happier without you than they will be with you, I can promise you that much.

“I understand if you’re not ready yet. I wasn’t ready for a long time myself, so if it’s okay with you, I want to give you mine and Bee’s numbers, you can reach out to us with any and all questions, concerns, whatever. Heck, if you just want to use them to get to know us, that’s fine too. I didn’t have anyone to help me, but you have us, we’ll help you all the way. Think about it, okay? All three of you will be so much happier together. You aren’t meant to be apart.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You knew Riley was right, you’d always known you’d be happier with them, but you also knew there was no way for you to get their attention, no way for them to actually find you, now that you had, now that they knew you, you were truly out of logical reasons to avoid taking your place by their sides.

Because soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

next part: a life eluded

a/n: ahhhhhh part two, I feel like it’s been done for a while but I’ve been like nervous about it idk, anyways I hope you enjoyed!! I know it’ll run for at least two more parts with potential for spin off(s) on the others finding their soulmates or even ‘prequels’ of Riley and Chan as well as Bee and Changbin🫣🤭 please feel free and encouraged to leave your thoughts and opinions and also lemme know if you’d be interested in being tagged in upcoming parts? ciao!! 🫶

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #han jisung #lee know #lee know x reader #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han jisung fanfic #lee know fanfic #han x y/n #han jisung x y/n #lee know x y/n #minsung x reader #minsung #poly!minsung x reader #soulmate au #idol au #reincarnation au

[midnightloversmusic]

hii, for flufftober, what about muggle!reader doing poly!marauders halloween makeup looks?

(it can be platonic or romantic)

thank you, have a good day!

Face Paint & Kisses

Flufftober day 2

poly!marauders x reader

Hey anon! Thank you so much for requesting I loved this idea so much. I made it romantic, I hope that's okay :)

enjoy!

"When he pulls away your brain is fuzzy and you feel so full of love you might just melt in his arms. He moves to sit back up on the counter and you retake your earlier position in between his legs. 

“You ready to do it all again baby?”

“Sit still” 

“I can't,” James says in almost a whine.

The boys had asked you to do their makeup for the Halloween party Marlene was throwing. You had all your boys sit on the bathroom counter while you stood in between their legs. 

Remus sat still the entire time, to be fair his make up only included some black face paint making triangles around his eyes and some black lipstick making his smirk more noticeable. 

Sirius surprisingly also stayed pretty still. He's used to you doing his makeup and sat still as long as you agreed to kiss him after every step and have Remus hold his hand as somewhat of a reward. His makeup was black smudged eyeliner with shiny dark red lipstick. He wanted to be some sort of seductive pirate. 

James on the other hand just wouldn't stop wiggling.

“James, baby, I love you but if you move one more time I might just leave you here with a half done face of makeup” 

his pout makes you question your choice of words. You have tried everything from putting on a show behind you to kissing him after each step like you do with Sirius. But James isn't Sirius, he's James and James needs to move. 

James wanted the most complicated look of all. He wanted the skeleton makeup look that Tate Langdon wore in American Horror Story. Doing this look on Remus would have been difficult in itself but on James? You really had your work cut out. 

“Alright, new strategy!” you yell out after almost stabbing James’ eye with the brush you were using when he jerked his head to the side to see what Sirius was doing. 

“Sirius,” He turns to you immediately looking at you with his puppy eyes waiting for instruction. He's adorable, you thought to yourself quickly.

“You go stand on the far wall of the bedroom”

“Yes ma’am," he replies, doing a soldier's salute on his way out of the bathroom.

“Remus,”

He looks up from the book he's reading,

“Yes, love?”

“Can you lay on the bed for me?”

“M’kay” he hums and he leans over your shoulder and places a light kiss on your cheek and a kiss on James's forehead on the way out.

“Now, James”

The poor boy just looked confused now, wondering why his boyfriends had been ordered to leave the bathroom. You find the crease between his eyebrows incredibly endearing. 

“I’m going to set a timer for 3:00 minutes and do as much makeup as I can. You can play with my rings while I do it, just try your hardest to stay still. After the three minutes are done I want you to get up, run to the bedroom, go give Sirius a big kiss anywhere you see fit.”  You see his eyes sparkle up with mischief  “not that”  “And then I want you to flop down onto the bed give Remus a hug and a kiss and then come back here and sit back up on the counter and give me a kiss. Sound good baby?”

James was already bouncing in his seat, already wanting to go do his new task. Seeing that you caved and said

“Why don't you go do a practice round real quick?”

“Can you time me please?”

“Of course baby”

With the confirmation he dashes out of the bathroom and promptly  jumps onto Sirius who lets out a “hmph” in response to getting the breath knocked out of him. James decided to give him a big wet kiss right on the cheek and he pops off with a comical smooching sound. Right when he's done he runs to Remus, who is already bracing himself to be jumped on, and he flops down right on top of him.

James looked down at Remus with a lovesick expression and whispered a soft “Hi”

Remus just giggled and replied with a soft “Hey baby” although that's all that he could get out before James smothers him in kisses from his forehead down to his collarbones.

He must have remembered he was being timed at some point because he jumped up off the bed and ran full speed at you. You're a giggling mess before he even reaches you, and then when he does reach you he quickly grabs your waist and one of your arms, twirls you (yes he actually twirls you like you were in a romcom) then he dips you down and kisses you. A sweet long kiss that makes your head spin and frankly you're surprised that your legs haven't given out because of it. 

When he pulls away your brain is fuzzy and you feel so full of love you might just melt in his arms. He moves to sit back up on the counter and you retake your earlier position in between his legs. 

“You ready to do it all again baby?”

#remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #poly marauders #sirius black #marauders x reader #poly!marauders #flufftober #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #james potter x you #remus lupin blurb #remus fluff #james fleamont potter

[starrgaziinggg]

begin again | hwang hyunjin

chapter thirty -> bonus chapter (wedding bells)

"SO HELP ME GOD!"

You physically jolt, awakening yourself from your slumped position on probably the most uncomfortable chair you'd ever had the misfortune of sitting on. Stretching your back out, your eyes found themselves darting towards Myeong, who was storming into the room you'd been in for the past half hour.

Despite not being a bridesmaid, you'd been roped into acting as though you were the wedding co ordinator. You didn't mind much, since it gave you something to focus on, rather than sit idly like your poor friends as they waited for Myeong to walk the isle.

"I swear to fuck, if I'm still friends with those bitches after this wedding, it will be a miracle," Myeong huffs, turning to you with an expression that could only be described as pure fury. "They've lost my damn veil. How am I supposed to walk the isle without a veil?"

You smirk at her, standing up from your slumped position on a rather uncomfortable chair and handing her the veil that you'd found discarded in the room you were currently in, presumably by Myeong's friends (and unfortunately, her bridesmaids). The stress dissipates from Myeong's face as she squeals, grabbing the veil and giving you an air kiss.

"This is why your my favourite person on this green earth," she sighs dreamily, as you take the veil she hands you and turn so you can fit it to her head. She looks at herself in the mirror beside her, fretting with her hair and smoothing down her pristine white wedding dress. "Well, except my soon to be husband, of course."

It's comical that you hear a knock on the door, Changbin's voice echoing from outside.

"Myeong?"

Myeong's eyes fill with terror as she screams, covering herself up as if that would have any effect in stopping Changbin from seeing her dress.

"NO! Fuck off, you can't see my dress!" She screams, turning to you and moving you to be in front of her. You can't help but openly laugh at the action, trying to hold it in because you just know Myeong's nervous about walking the isle in (hopefully) fifteen minutes.

"I'm not coming in, idiot. I just wanted to make sure you're ready!" Changbin shouts back, and you can practically picture his smirking laugh.

"Okay," Myeong replies cautiously, turning to look at herself in the mirror for the millionth time. "I'm almost ready!"

"Okay, my sisters coming in, by the way!" Changbin shouts again, before presumably disappearing when his sister opens the door and walks through. You loved spending time with Changbin's sister when you were kids, and you hadn't seen her in so long until you'd reunited with her (and all the other guests) last night.

Changbin and Myeong had decided to have their wedding in Jeju Island, taking control of an entire lavish hotel for the weekend. The whole hotel was decked out in decorations, and it looked beautiful, though you hadn't been able to spend much time admiring it.

"Jesus, Myeong. I adore you, but your friends are..." Changbin's sister starts, trailing off as she makes a face and can't find the words she needs. You cut in instead.

"Uptight and annoying?" You finish, looking at Myeong with a laugh. You two had bonded over how incompetent her bridesmaids were over the last couple months.

"Precisely," Changbin's sister winks, moving her long brown hair behind her ears. Her short dandelion yellow dress was absolutely gorgeous, and she looked beautiful, though you knew she'd be a balling mess as soon as she saw her little brother standing at the altar.

It was nothing on Myeong's dress, though. Her extravagant white gown had cost a pretty penny, but it was so worth it. Unlike the ballgown you thought she'd opt for, she had decided upon a form fitted, satin gown, paired with the most gorgeous silver heels you'd ever seen - she looked like a princess. Her hair was down, the front pieces pinned back with diamonds, and you may or may not have shed a tear when you saw her after you'd gotten ready yourself this morning.

"Do I look okay?" Myeong asks, turning to look between both you and Changbin's sister. "Tell me the truth. If I don't, it will just ruin what's supposed to be the best day of my life, no biggie."

You don't know whether to laugh or cry at poor Myeong, opting to give her an air hug instead. No way would you ever risk making a mark on her dress, not after she'd spent the last five hours getting ready. Yeah, five full hours. She'd been up since four in the morning, and you reckon she'd be out like a light by nine pm latest.

"You look absolutely beautiful," you say honestly. She looks up at you with her big Bambi eyes.

"Really?"

Changbin's sister hums, looking Myeong up and down and nodding approvingly. "I would put thousands on the fact that you're the most gorgeous person currently on earth."

Myeong cracks a smile at that, taking a deep breath, focusing her attention on Changbin's sister to ask her, "Did you need me for something important or did you just want to hype me up before I walk the line?"

"Actually, I came to get her," Changbin's sister points a thumb at you, turning to face and talk to you directly. "You're boyfriend is getting worried Myeong's murdered you or something, and he wont shut up, so please come and...I dunno, shut him up?"

You laugh, knowing Hyunjin is probably whining like a baby without you. Even after months of dating, he was still as clingy as ever.

"Sounds like Hyun," you turn to Myeong. "Shall I get your dad? He should be waiting in the room with your bridesmaids and Chan, and I think they could both use some saving right about now."

"Yes, yeah," she says, smiling. "God, dad's going to ball his eyes out when he sees me. Tell Chan he only needs to spend ten more minutes max with them, and go kiss your boyfriend since I can't kiss mine until he's my husband."

You blow her an air kiss, letting Changbin's sister take your wrist and lead you into the other room. Chan practically jumps at you as the door opens, moving away from the three girls trying to drag him into conversation to his left. Changbin's sister goes to Myeong's dad, letting him know she's ready for him to see her and prepare to walk the isle, before heading through to the main room where everyone is waiting.

"Fuck me," Chan hisses, widening his eyes as you walk over to him, looking dashing in his black suit. "Once Myeong and Changbin are married I hope I never see those girls again."

"That makes two of us," you chuckle. "You ready for your big moment?"

"Oh yeah, I'm under strict instructions from Dambi on how I should walk with her down the isle," he groans quietly, trying to avoid the prying ears of the three girls behind him. You chuckle at him, patting his shoulder. "I'm not kidding. She made me practice synchronising our steps like a billion times."

"Just think about getting to spend the rest of the day with Jaehwa and everyone," you remind him, watching as his face lights up at the mention of his girlfriend. He gives you a quick side hug, careful not to muck up your dress.

"Bets on that Hyunjin is whining like a baby about missing you?" He laughs, letting you go to where you needed to be - sitting on your bench, beside your boyfriend and the rest of your friends.

"Oh, he already is," you smile, watching Chan roll his eyes. "That's why I've been sent away."

"He's so whipped," Chan laughs, shaking his head as you leave the room, following the rows of flowers and decor to the room holding all the guests. You try to make your entrance as discreet as possible, since you'd be the last person to enter the room until Myeong's big moment, but of course as you walked down the isle to the front of the room, all eyes were on you.

They instantly turned around again, clearly disappointed you weren't the bride, and you chuckled to yourself as you neared the third bench from the front, where Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin were staring at you. Changbin, who had already made his way to the altar, standing up at the front and facing you all, rolls his eyes at you with a smile. You slide into the bench beside Hyunjin, watching as Jisung turns to look at you from the bench in front of you.

"Way to ruin the moment," he scoffs. "Just as we finally thought Myeong was ready to get this show on the road, and it's you."

"I think my ass has lost all feeling," Felix contributed to the right of him, just as Minho turns behind him from Jisung's left to look at you all. "You look pretty, though."

You smile warmly at him, trying to flip Jisung off in a low-key way, since your mother (and all of the boys, minus Hyunjin's and Minho's, as they were both swamped with work and couldn't get the time off) were a couple rows behind you. Hyunjin absentmindedly places a hand on your knee and squeezes gently, giving you a grin.

"Took her long enough to get ready," Jeongin scoffs. "I wanted to take photos with her before Myeong took her away all morning and she didn't get out the room until 8am."

"That definitely wasn't because she was getting ready, Innie," Minho says, giving you and Hyunjin a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle.

"Getting undressed, more like," Seungmin adds cheekily. You reach past your boyfriend to swat at him, shooting Minho a pointed glare.

"At least Hyun will stop crying like a baby now," Jeongin rolls his eyes, to which your boyfriend only sends him a grin, making Jeongin fake gag.

"Shut up, all of you," you hiss. "Not in the place of worship."

"This isn't even a church," Jisung points out with a roll of his eyes. "We're in a fucking hotel."

"No swearing, either!" You add, nodding your head backwards to the rows where your mothers were enjoying catching up with one another after years apart.

"Sheesh," Felix groans. "When I get married, I'm letting everyone start drinking as soon as the sun comes up and saying my vows in two seconds, none of this waiting around crap."

"I fear for your non existent future partner," you say with a tilt of your head.

"I think it's romantic," your boyfriend speaks up, a love struck look plastering his face. He rests his head gently on your shoulder. "When we get married, I'd like to do it the traditional way. You know, all drawn out, in a church with big windows..."

"All in favour of not going to Hyunjin's wedding say aye," Seungmin starts, followed by a chorus of 'ayes' from your friends. You'd either laugh or scold them if you weren't still reeling from the fact Hyunjin referred to his wedding as yours, too.

You don't get the opportunity to scold them, though, since the music starts and the large hotel room is silenced. You all turn in unison, watching as Chan starts walking down the isle with Dambi by his side. Jaehwa was annoyed to be missing the ceremony, but she'd had a modelling job for Dior (yup, jealousy was a disease and you were highly infected) yesterday, which meant she couldn't get a flight until early this morning. She'd be arriving in the next hour or so to join everyone for lunch and the celebrations following.

Chan sends you all a wink as he passes you, followed by the next two girls and the men accompanying them - Myeong's two brothers. The girls don't even so much as shoot a glance in your direction, which you're honestly thankful for.

Changbin shakes his hands out, clearly nervous, before Chan nudges his shoulder once he reaches his right. You already feel the tears coming, unable to keep stable in this situation. You know there's a couple minutes until Myeong walks, as she comes down during a certain part of the song, so you lean towards Hyunjin, Jeongin and Seungmin.

"Who's the first to cry, Changbin's sister or his mum?" You whisper, nodding towards them both in the first bench in your row.

"You, judging by your watery eyes," Seungmin chuckles quietly, raising an eyebrow. Hyunjin frowns lovingly at you, a sparkle in his eye as he brings a hand up to your face and places a finger in the corner of your eye to remove the tears.

"At least hold out until they say their vows," Jeongin grins, shaking his head at you. The music picks up to the part where you know Myeong starts walking, so everybody starts standing up. After what seems like a minute of silence, but could only have been a couple seconds, Myeong and her father walk into the room.

Myeong's smiling brightly, from ear to ear, and you only take your eyes off of her for the smallest second to see Changbin's reaction. He's trying so hard not to, but you watch as he sheds a tear and laughs it off, shaking his head with a smile as he watches his soon to be wife walk towards him. Myeong's dad kisses her cheek before taking his seat, and soon after Myeong is standing at the alter, facing Changbin.

Thankfully, the vows are quite quick, but super emotional. You're in tears, the guys are holding back sobs - even Minho's lip trembles at one point. It's the first marriage of your friend group, almost as if signalling the end of your childhood. You, Hyunjin and Chan were in serious relationships, everyone was content with their jobs...you weren't all kids anymore.

You think back to your teenage years - boisterous Changbin who made it his mission to keep a smile on everyone's faces. To watch him place a ring on his wife's finger was so fulfilling, and you couldn't have been happier for him and Myeong.

"And with that, I pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant smiles. "You may now kiss the bride."

Changbin grins before swooping Myeong into his arms, kissing her dramatically. Everyone stands to clap and cheer, and you watch Chan's tears fall as he smiles at them. At this point, you're a mess - makeup definitely ruined. Hyunjin is balling beside you too, pulling you into his side and patting your hair gently.

Myeong and Changbin walk back down the aisle hand in hand, an upbeat love song playing to their exit, accompanied by the continuous noise of the guests. It's at that point you all file out of the room, bounding up to the newly weds to say your congratulations.

Myeong hugs you tightly, finally allowing herself to cry. "I'm married! I'm actually marrried!"

You laugh the tears, smiling brightly at her when you pull apart. "I know! You're the most beautiful bride I have ever seen."

She swats at you, blushing nonetheless. "Thank you for everything you've done to help me today, I genuinely don't know where I'd have been without you."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly, pulling her in for one last squeeze before she's ushered away in all the commotion. It's Changbin you turn to then, pulling him towards you. He wraps his arms around you before ruffling your hair.

"You idiot! I took one look at you sobbing in the crowd and I was a gonner," he scolds you, a smile plastering his face.

"I couldn't help it!" You fret back, wiping under your eyes haphazardly. "You and Myeong looked so happy, and your vows were so cute."

"Yeah, well, I've had them written since our third date, so," he grins, and you shake your head with a smile. He's pulled away by your mother then, her pinching his cheeks and cooing as he accepts it openly.

"Our Changbin, all grown up," she smiles, patting his cheek. "You're going to be an excellent husband, my darling."

And that sets you both off again, Changbin giving your mother a hug after not seeing her in so long. It's at that point Myeong claps her hands, letting everyone know that food will be served in an hour and the bar is open for drinks in the meantime. She winks at you, which you take as your queue to follow her upstairs and fix up both of your destroyed faces.

You find Hyunjin in the large crowd, his newly dyed bleach blonde hair sticking out in the crowd, letting him know you'll be back down soon.

"You're leaving?" He says instantly, concern on his face. You laugh at him, rolling your eyes.

"My mum isn't going to grill you, Hyun," you say, knowing exactly why he's been so worried about you being away from him this trip. Obviously, Hyunjin had met your mother many a time, yet he'd been nothing but a ball of stress about formally introducing himself to her.

Since you'd all been rushing about like headless chickens with the wedding preparations, you hadn't been able to properly catch up with your mum, save for a very teary eyed greeting and the promise to tell her everything since you'd last seen her. This also meant Hyunjin hadn't been able to meet her as your official boyfriend, which you'd tried to convince him would be fine, but your dramatic as ever boyfriend didn't believe.

You give him an encouraging thumbs up before Myeong's dragging you to her room, the two of you chatting excitedly about the reception as you reapplied your makeup. She's all smiles and excitement, and you take the opportunity to get some pictures just the two of you before you're rejoining the wedding party.

Everyone's milling around the bar, or already sitting at their assigned tables. You knew the seating plan had you, Hyunjin, your mum, Jeongin, Seungmin and their mothers on it, and to your surprise your boyfriend, who had been a bundle of nerves not half an hour ago, was sitting with a glass of champagne in hand, talking your mums ear off.

You shake your head, smiling at the scene of just the two of them at the table, walking towards them and giving your mum a hug before taking your seat in between them.

"My baby has finally joined us," your mother says, patting your knee gently. "Now, Hyunjin here was telling me all about your trip to America!"

She looks back at him expectantly, so he continues his story, shooting you an excited glance.

"I was just talking about how my mom has been desperate for us to visit again," he informs you, before directing his attention back to your mum. "It's my sister's birthday next month, and she's specifically asked us to fly out to visit. My mom was also wondering if you'd like to join us? She hasn't seen you in so long, and now that we're together, she wants to be able to spend time with you."

Your mum claps her hands in agreement. "Oh I'll be there! I've never been to the states, and I have missed your darling mum," she grins at you, tilting her head. "Aren't you lucky to have a millionaire boyfriend!"

"Mum," you whine, rolling your eyes at her. Hyunjin only chuckles.

"No, I know, I'm only teasing. Honestly, I knew the two of you would end up together. Your mum said the same thing, Hyunjin. And Chris kept me in the loop," she winks, and you both want to murder Chan for being a little snake and jump up and down with joy because of how clearly your mum accepted Hyunjin as your boyfriend.

Your happiness was short lived, however, as Jeongin and Seungmin walked up to your table.

"Why the hell have we been stuck with the lovebirds," Jeongin groans, which your mum slaps him gently for. He yelps dramatically, laughing at your mum as she pretends to be mad at him.

"Now Jeongin," she says adoringly. "You will find your perfect person one day! Don't let your recent romantic failure make you so miserable."

Seungmin snorts as Jeongin sends you a pointed look. "You told her about me being stood up by that girl I was seeing?"

You hold your hands up in defeat, laughing loudly when he pretends to punch you after your mum excuses herself to stand with Jeongin and Seungmin's mothers at the bar.

"You two are sickening," Jeongin says, taking his seat and sticking his tongue out. Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him, placing an arm around your chair. "It physically pains me."

"I don't hear any complaints about Changbin and Myeong or Chan and Jaehwa!" You point out. "Why is it always us that gets the brunt of your abuse?"

"Well for one, because it's Changbin and Myeong's wedding day, so they're allowed a free pass," Seungmin informs you. "And Jaehwa isn't here."

"Wrong!" You head Jaehwa say, which you whip your head around at. She bounds up to you as you stand up, hugging her and admiring her gorgeous pale blue midi dress. You'd both gotten to know each other well over the past months, and she'd quickly become one of your favourite people. You were so thankful the guys had good taste in girls, because it meant you had gained two best friends.

"You look incredible! How was Dior?" You ask after giving her a squeeze. She 'ah's in adoration, swooning at the thought.

"Phenomenal, I'm truly so lucky! How was the reception? I was gutted to miss it," she sighs, quickly waving hello to the boys.

"Beautiful, of course," you answer, to which you hear Jeongin mutter 'long' and Seungmin sigh 'drawn out' under their breaths. You shake your head at you friends, coaxing Jaehwa over to your mother. "Mum, this is Chris's girlfriend, Jaehwa. Jae, meet my mum."

The two woman share a hug, your mum gushing at how beautiful 'my darling Channie's girl' was. You take a seat beside Hyunjin, all smiles.

"So? Not as scary as you expected?" You ask him, tapping his leg with your foot. He grins in response, shaking his head.

"Nah, easy peasy. Older women love me," he smirks cockily, clapping his hands. "She's already started calling me 'son'."

You roll your eyes, saying goodbye to Jaehwa who goes to find her boyfriend, standing amongst a group of people and chatting their ears off.

"What do you guys want to drink?" Seungmin asks, to which your mum scoffs at.

"Don't you worry yourself, I'll get us some drinks," she reply's, cooing at your younger friend and standing up instantly, making her way over to the bar.

"I forgot how nice your mum is," Seungmin chuckles, shaking his head. "She's like God reincarnated into a beautiful middle aged woman."

"Don't tell her that, it'll go straight to her head," you respond with a smile.

"I forgot how stressful weddings are," Jeongin sighs. "I feel like this is the first time I've sat down since we arrived in Jeju."

You nod. "God tell me about it, I'm so ready for a damn drink."

It's at that moment your mum returns, two bottles of champagne in hand, which you all crack open and pour yourselves hefty glassfuls. Seungmin and Jeongin's parents join you, already tipsy and cooing at how cute you and Hyunjin looked together.

"I've heard my son has made a pretty penny from betting on your relationship,"Seungmin's dad teases, which Seungmin looks all too proud at.

"Easy money dad. These fools really thought I didn't have a clue they were together the entire time."

"It was a lucky guess!" Your boyfriend interjects, scowling at the younger man.

Seungmin's mum swats at him, making Jeongin howl with laughter. You and Hyunjin just shake your heads at each other, your mum smiling away.

"I don't know what's so funny," Jeongin's mum interrupts, her gaze set on her son. "I heard you'd lost out on a tonne."

Jeongin groans. "Don't remind me."

After more gossiping and catching up, everyone takes their seats and the food arrives. They'd spared no expense, hiring a renowned caterer, which you thanked the gods for. It was safe to say there wasn't a plate on your table that hadn't been licked clean.

Once your dessert had been successfully demolished, you hear the tapping of a glass, turning to Chris who's standing at his table.

"Oh god, here we go," Seungmin rolls his eyes.

"Hi everyone!" Chan starts cheerily, microphone in hand, instantly capturing everyone's attention as the room falls silent. "I'd like to start by thanking everyone for coming today, especially those of you that had to travel a ridiculous amount because a certain someone had always dreamed of a Jeju wedding."

Myeoung scowls at Chan, earning a laugh from the crowd.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm kidding - you've done a beautiful job, Myeong. I think we can all agree this has to be one of the most spectacular weddings we've attended."

The crowd hollers in response, and you clap alongside them, grinning up at your best friend.

"I'll keep this relatively short and sweet, since long wedding speeches are killer and nobody wants to hear me drone on for hours, despite how much I could talk about two of my favourite people.

I'd like to call myself a bit of a matchmaker, though for some reason my glorious group of friends and I all seem to have had ridiculously bad luck in the romance department. Sorry guys," he grins cheekily, which your friends all scowl at.

"However, saying that, recently things have started to look up. When Myeong and Changbin started dating, I thought 'this is it, they're meant for each other', and although the many dates I'd set up for Changbin had ultimately failed, and my title as matchmaker was in the dust, I couldn't have been happier.

Changbin has always been the mood maker, the class clown - the one that ultimately held us all together. He's an amazing person and," he directs his gaze to Changbin's parents. "You've done an incredible job raising him. I wouldn't be who I am without him today. Not only is he the best music producer CBH entertainment has ever seen, he has always looked on the bright side of life, no matter what was thrown his way.

So when I was introduced to the first girl that had ever managed to tie our boy down, I knew she was the one for him. Myeong compliments Changbin's energy completely, whilst simultaneously keeping him on his toes."

Myeong giggles at this, pinching Changbin's cheek, to which he swats at. You feel the tears welling up again, and Hyunjin pats your knee lovingly.

"Myeong is phenomenal. She's beautiful, hilarious, and the perfect person for our Bin. I truly am so thankful for your presence in his life, Myeong. And I know he will treat you like a goddess, because he worships the ground you walk on."

"Stop making me sound so sappy!" Changbin interjects, which you laugh at.

"Right, okay, sorry mate!" Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Anyway, it's obvious they're perfect together. And as sad as it makes me to see us all growing up - like, what the hell, Bin, you're married!"

The crowd chuckles once more as you feel the tears fall.

"I couldn't be happier for our newly weds. You both truly deserve the best of the best. So, before I start to full on bawl my eyes out, let's toast to the happy couple. To Changbin and Myeong!"

Everyone repeats the words, clinking their glasses together and clapping for Chan. He'd always had a way with words, and you genuinely couldn't wait to hear what he came up with whenever you and Hyunjin got married.

"Man, these idiots need to stop making me cry," Hyunjin laughs, clearing the tears away from his eyes. "My face is all puffy now."

"You still look handsome as ever," you grin, mimicking has action and checking your makeup in your phone camera. "God, I just can't get a grip of myself today!"

"Yeah, you two need to wise up," Seungmin teases. "When you guys get married, you probably won't even be able to say your vows over the sound of you both hysterically crying."

You punch him in the shoulder for that one, but you don't get the chance to make an equally as irritating remark back as you're hauled off of your seat and pulled onto the dance floor by Myeong.

The party hits full swing, all of your friend group dancing to the music the DJ was playing without a care in the world. You took it in turns to bust out your best moves, Changbin twerking as Myeong filmed, Jisung hitting the whip and nae nae so furiously he almost pulled a muscle, Felix full on breakdancing until Minho gently pushed him to the ground with a laugh.

For hours you guys stayed like that - taking photos together, drinking your stresses away. It was bliss. Pure, genuine bliss to be dancing and laughing with your friends, Hyunjin by your side. Amidst an argument between Minho and Seungmin about who was the best at doing the moonwalk, Hyunjin gently tugged on your arm and led you outside for a breather.

The hotel sat directly on the waterfront, a gorgeous balcony lining the side of the large room you were all in. It was beautiful, lights shining onto the gently rippling water and the sounds of laughter and happiness echoing from inside.

You were both sweating at this point, out of breath and in stitches from laughing with your friends. He pulls you into his lap as he takes a seat on a bench, you making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

"I think I'm the happiest I've ever been," Hyunjin says quietly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. You hum in agreement.

"Everything went so perfectly. It's been the best day," you smile down as him, placing a hand to his cheek and placing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I hope our weddings as lovely."

"You know, you talk a lot about our wedding for someone who is not engaged," Hyunjin laughs, earning himself the daggers from you.

He smiles all the same, thinking about the sparkling diamond ring sitting in a box, hidden away in a secret location back at your guys' apartment. He'd picked it out a week after you'd started officially dating, not a question about it. After FaceTiming Chan a billion times to show him ring after ring, his eyes had landed on the one he ended up choosing and all he saw was you.

He knew you didn't care about how he'd propose, you never did for things like that. Whether it be snuggled up in bed after binging a drama, or at your work office (which you had successfully christened, almost immediately after you'd finished placing your items at your desk. They were subsequently knocked off and Hyunjin did have to replace half of them) - you'd say yes to him in a heartbeat.

But, Hyunjin was a traditional man. He'd ask you after meticulous planning when the time was perfect. He was old fashioned like that. God forbid there wasn't an event of grandeur attached to him placing a ring on your finger to let the world know you were forever his.

"You know what I mean," you mumble, snapping Hyunjin back into the present. Hyunjin chuckles in response, tightening his embrace around you.

"I love you," he says then, making you smile. You place another kiss on his lips, your thumb rubbing circles around his cheek.

"I love you more."

"Factually inaccurate," he says immediately, which you giggle at, knowing it was a competition you'd never win. Hyunjin loved you, you loved him - it was known. Your friends could tease you to their hearts content, but it was obvious they loved the two of you together.

After a series of horrific dates (courtesy of Chan), a fake dating scenario that left your brain in a state of mush, a secret that almost ruined the blossoming romance between the two of you and finally throwing caution to the wind - you had him. You were together, and you'd be damned to ever let him go.

It was always him. And for him, it was always you. Right from the minute he laid eyes on you as a teenager. He could curse Chan a thousand times over for keeping you from him back then, but Hyunjin knew everything worked out the way it was supposed to. He'd never let anything come between the two of you again.

You'd began again, and this was it. The happy forever.

low and behold. After like, two years the final chapter is complete. This story is my baby, the first thing I'd ever written and completed. It started as a story I wrote to occupy my time over a boring summer. It turned into a community of people on tumblr and Wattpad who I cherished interacting with, and who loved this story as much as I did. I read every single comment, and they all make me grin from ear to ear. You lot are fucking funny.

I want to thank you for taking the time to read this, and to anyone who has interacted in a positive way, I adore you. I hope this is a nice ending. I think it is.

Peace and love

#stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #jeongin #lee know #skz #felix lee #han jisung #bang chan #Changbin #seungmin #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut

[greenbean-4ever]

lloyd x reader

really pretty eyes

you were peacefully walking through the almost empty city. today had been a good day, you went to school, had a calm shift at work, went to the comic store, and now, you were heading home. to finish the day right, you were blasting music in your headphones, and since the streets were practically empty, you were dancing to the music. so concentrated in the music that you didn't think twice about the car that was going too fast to stop at the red light you were just crossing. what sounded like a distant honk was much closer than you realized. there was nothing you could do but close your eyes and brace for impact, but it never came. or it did, but much softer than expected. confused, you opened your eyes and only saw green.

focusing, you saw the most beautiful eyes the color of emerald stones and golden sunsets with lashes that could easily beat you own delicate ones.

"are you alright?" said the stranger in front of you, who was holding you by the waist.

"um, uh- your eyes are really pretty."

the stranger laughed "thank you, but are you okay?" he said as he stepped away, letting go of you.

finding your balance you realized that he wasn't a normal stranger but the Green Ninja himself.

finally reacting, you said "oh my gosh, I said that out loud didn't I? um yes! I'm alright. thanks to you of course, in a bit of a shock but okay either way. reality settling in and still rambling, you said "if it weren't for you I'd be- oh no. I would've have definetly be- your eyes started watering.

before you could say anything else, the Green Ninja said "hey hey! it's okay. breath with me alright?" looking directly at you, he said "inhale and exhale" you were confused, barely processing his words but did so anyway. doing the exercise a few times calmed you down.

"I'm sorry."

"it's okay, you shouldn't say sorry. better now?"

wiping your tears, you replied "I think so yeah"

"is it okay for you to go home?" he asked with concern.

"yes" you sniffed "I'm good now"

"that's great. you should be a little more careful next time even though it wasn't entirely your fault." "I'll catch the driver another day and have a talk with them" he mumbled that but you heard him anyways making you feel a little relieved that he was taking this seriously. you thought that compared to his big accomplishments, saving you was nothing. you couldn't have been more grateful for his timely appearance and comfort.

"thank you again"

"anytime." he said and you thought he smiled? you weren't that sure because of the mask but his eyes were quite expressive. with a nod and a smile of your own, you turned around and started walking.

"your eyes are really pretty too"

you quickly turned around suprised "um, thank you."

"until next time." he said with a two finger salute.

you waved back. "see you then." turned around and started walking again. a soft blush creeping up to your cheeks.

#ninjago #part 2? #[insert you favorite song here] #lloyd #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #my writing♡ #lloyd x reader #lloyd x y/n #lloyd garmadon x reader

[roetrolls]

Squabble

It’s Nymira’s second time bursting into her brothers’ kitchen in twice as many days, but tonight she is not here for comfort. The godling is stiff when she enters, hands wrapped so tightly around the book she carries with her that it sends tremors through her limbs.

“You stole her arm.”

Cylion looks up and furrows his brow, his face the perfect picture of innocence. 

“What?”

“Marrie’s arm. Why did you take it?”

He rises to his feet to approach her, letting his expression morph into concern. “This again? Marrie’s fine, Mira. It was a dream.”

She squares her jaw, eyes widening in indignation, and Cylion must beat back his irritation.

“Mira,” he tries again, maintaining his patience with practiced ease, “you’re confused.”

“You… You’re lying,” she accuses him with a shaking voice, the strength of the statement superseded by her own disbelief. “Why are you lying?”

“Did you just wake up? Are you feeling alright?” He reaches out to lay a hand on her forehead, but is blocked when Nymira flings open the book and turns it around to thrust the pages in his face.

M A R R I E.

The doll’s name is scrawled across the journal in thick and shaky script, the paper warped by tear stains and blood.

Cylion freezes like a deer in headlights, mouth falling open without an excuse to stand on. He needs to rectify this, now, but the only thought rattling around his head coherent enough to verbalize is…

“Where did you get that?”

The question, quiet and tense, serves only to fuel her anger.

“She gave it to me. For my pens.” Inky tears begin to well in the godling’s eyes. “You hid my pens.”

“Mira–” Cylion tries, fighting to keep his voice level. He can fix this. He just needs to think.

“Y-You lied,” she chokes again, breath becoming rapid. “You lied to me.”

The prophet’s head pulses with the feeling of phantom claws around his skull, their father’s warning suddenly feeling far more pressing.

This wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for Favion. And now Cylion is going to be blamed for failing to clean up his messes. His entire life given to their father, to her, to this thankless fucking job, all for a puppet to be his undoing.

Were happening to anyone else, he’d call it comical.

His sister is bordering on hysterics, shoulders shaking with stress and rage, and her gaze is almost pleading. What she wouldn’t give to be wrong right now.

“You’re a liar.”

His eyes bore into hers. She swallows a stormy sob and squeezes the journal, her lifeline, to her chest.

“You’re a liar!” the mutant cries, voice breaking with the pressure.

Cylion opens his mouth, preparing to deny, minimize, console. Then the frustration swells in his chest like a wave, and he feels his mouth break into a nearly manic grin. 

“Yeah? Welcome to Alternia.”

The anger vanishes from her face, overtaken by confusion, and whatever confidence she had been counting on for this confrontation goes with it. He takes a heavy step forward and unfolds his wings, flaring them out behind him to enlarge his frame.

“What are you going to do about it, Mira?” he sneers as she stumbles back, intimidated.

Before he can make use of the change in her demeanor, though, she plants her feet and fans her tail in a threat display of her own, matching his size. “I… I’m going to tell Father.”

Cylion clenches his jaw until something pops, annoyance quickly giving way to fury.

It was never supposed to be like this. She was never supposed to have this kind of power over him. How is it fair, that she can make a threat this effective? Why does she get to turn his own ancestor against him?

“Did you already forget you’re mad at him, then?” Cylion advances another step, looming over his sister with a dark, brooding look behind his eye.

“Father didn’t lie to me!” she howls, striking at his chest with an open palm. 

He catches her wrist and snarls, nostrils flaring. “Do not. Hit me.”

Nymira’s face falls. Whatever expression Cylion is wearing, it’s finally enough to rattle her. She tries to pull her arm away, but he holds firm, clawed fingers curling tighter around her skin.

“Cylion,” she whimpers, voice suddenly very small. “You’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

Her breath catches in her throat and she jerks her arm again, still to no avail. “I’m going to tell Father you’re scaring me!”

A low growl rattles in Cylion’s throat, and without a word, he tugs his sister into the hall, dragging her towards her room. He ignores her as she beats her free hand against his arm and shoulder, sobbing at the consequences of her own petty threats.

“Stop it! I-I’ll get Somnia!”

He lets out a cold, humorless laugh. “You think Somnia listens to you?”

At the door to her bedroom, he releases her wrist and storms inside, tuning out the godling’s panicked questions and frantic pleas as he throws open her desk drawer and scatters their contents to the wind.

Before long, he finds what he’s looking for, turning around to show her the shiny blue doll thrashing uselessly in his fist.

“Little Friend!” she wails, stumbling forward and swiping at Cylion’s hands. He raises the thing above his head, out of her reach, and glowers down at her. “Put him down!”

“Father stays out of this,” Cylion warns her, shoving past his sister to return to his own room with the toy still wriggling in his palm.

#dream sequence arc #dream sequence curated #guest star! #cylion #writing #:) hey guys. guess what. heh. #things r uh. things r movin now #nymira writing

[waklman]

Fake It

Teaser

synopsis: a pair of best friends, one apartment, and one fake dating ploy to get jake’s ex girlfriend back, will end well right? wrong.

paring: jake seresin x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n, smut 18+, drinking & light drug use, jake and reader are both 20.

college au, fake dating trope, roommate trope, childhood friends trope

fake it masterlist

“...It’s not that noticeable.” Jake suggests with a tucked lip, fully aware that he’s dead wrong. 

The sight in front of you two fully contradicts his statement, the canvas stretched onto the wall ahead is obviously tipped over—hanging at a 45’ degree angle. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that it’s not set straight.

You blink at the crooked mural, soaking in Jake’s comment. 

If you hadn’t just watched him hang the large painting, you would’ve assumed that someone stalked right into your living room and smacked the painting on its side for the hell of it. But no one has. The only people to even step foot inside the apartment thus far were you, Jake, both your parents—and the desperate landlord who leased it to two college students in the first place.

It’s almost laughable how the corner piece of the artwork comically points down towards the preowned couch below it—bringing its mystery stains to your attention. 

You swallow.

Maybe you should've put yourself in charge of deep cleaning the two-seater, you think to yourself. You can practically make out how the grime of the sofa would feel against your skin if you were to sit on it.

Besides you, Jake is stiff, remembering how he was too preoccupied with stalking his ex on instagram to give it a scrub down—but you didn’t need to know that.

He cautiously looks at you from the corner of his eye, hoping you don’t notice the soiled cushions. Jake assumes you don't catch it, once your face scrunches up in concern for the crooked artwork.

Almost like a mirror image of one another–you both unsurely tilt your heads, trying to get a visual on how the decorative piece would look–if it was displayed correctly. “We might have to look at it like this from now on,” you propose, unconfidently.

Jake snaps his head back in place, perturbed by the way his ear presses against his shoulder.

He massages the side of his neck. “I know what we can do,” he voices, eyebrows puckered together.

“..You do?” You turn, with childlike curiosity written across your face. The expression almost makes Jake reconsider what he’s about to do—almost. 

The genuine look on his face drops, completely replaced by a psychotic grin–mouth wide open and all. The white man smile is what you dubbed it.

Ever since Jake realized that his horror movie-like smile scared you when you were kids–he hasn’t stopped doing it since. It always made an appearance whenever the blond was up to no good. Realization fully hits you right when his eyes completely gloss over, making him look drained of life. “Yeah,” he whispers wickedly, making grabby hands at you.  

Your body enters the state of fight or flight immediately—socks slipping against the dusty floors—starting to make a run for help with outstretched arms, reaching out towards his parents in the kitchen. Your cry for help doesn’t get to leave your mouth as Jake’s hand sneaks up from behind you–slapping over your entire face. 

Everything happens all at once, from Jake pulling you into his warm chest—to him throwing you down against the couch without mercy—and squashing your face into the smelly felt. “J-ake Seres-in!” You flip your face around, still sandwiched under him, trying to suck in pockets of air. 

You gag from the nauseating scent of dirt and bodily fluids marinated into the seats—and Jake finally lets up with a grin–releasing the back of your head from his palms. 

“That–that wasn’t funny. You know I’m germaphobic!” You tut, turning your face away from him.

For a brief second, you appear as the little girl that turns her back to six year old Jake Seresin–making his little chest tighten in adoration.

He hopes there’s never a day you stop doing it—that you’ll always be there to give him disapproval of some sort.

Jake softens, knowing his teasing didn’t coincide with the move-in day stress well. “Hey–c’mon Princess don’t cry,” he coos, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You dip your head away from him, with a growl. “Did you just—dodge me?” He scoffs, incredulously. 

Not far off from where you two are, Jake’s parents are laughing amongst themselves at the playful scene. “Were we like this, in college?” His mother reminisces, leaning into her husband’s rumbling chest.

Mr. Seresin grins down at his wife, puffing out another laugh. “Denial of our feelings for eachother included?” 

Seeing the nod of her head, Jake’s dad provides his answer, “Then yeah. It’s like looking into the past.”

She chuckles against him. “You were one cocky bastard, y’know.”

“Happy to see the humble trait passed on, Honey.” 

note: princess and jake are here!!!! so excited to share their story :) feel free to ask me questions to learn more about them!

join taglist for this series here. or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @wkndwlff @bubblegumbeautyqueen @averyhotchner @angeliccks @atarmychick007 @olivia21blunt @stark3ys @s-u-t

#fake it #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm au #tgm fic

[shingekinomyfeelings]

preservation (Reiner x gn reader; drama/fluff)

sfw. canon universe, 104th cadet era. ~1,600 words. no content warnings.

Your over-eager recklessness lands you in the infirmary, and your boyfriend is, well, a little pissy about it...

notes: oh, I know it's not sexy, but I really really love this one, and Reiner acting like an immature grump is always super funny to me. Y/n likes to push his buttons a little, but you definitely love each other. Reiner deserves a bit of a hard time now and then anyway. originally published January 2023.

The first thing you’re aware of is that you’re in a bed – not on the hard forest floor you remember rushing towards you at a terrifying speed – and that fucking hell, your body aches. Blinking a few times, your fuzzy vision clears and you find yourself staring up at a ceiling – not the barracks?

It takes a moment, but you soon recognize that you’re in the infirmary.

‘Why the infirmary...?’

Okay, maybe you got a little too competitive with the training dummies, and maybe you were going way too fast, and maybe trying out some of those fancy maneuvers you’d seen some members of the Survey Corps practicing on the training grounds the week before wasn’t the best idea you’d had recently, but who could really fault you for that?

“Do you actually get some kind've weird kick out of making me worry about you?” A gruff voice to your right makes you glance over in surprise, the room seeming to wobble and tilt just a bit as you turn your head too quickly.

Reiner is seated in the chair next to your bed, slouching to the side with one elbow braced on the arm of the chair so he can prop his face against his hand. He doesn’t even look at you as he poses this question, and the sight of this huge man sulking in a chair that was probably intended for a much smaller person is almost comical enough to make you laugh – except for the intense pain that sears through your ribs when you give a single huff of amusement.

When this immediately makes you wince and take a sharp gasp, you could swear you saw him twitch a muscle, but he keeps his gaze fixed on the opposite wall.

‘So fucking stubborn.’

It’s a little endearing, but at the same time it makes you want to needle him back a bit.

“I mean, of course I do. Practically the reason I get up each morning. Today for instance, I woke up and thought, ‘man, I don’t wanna get up, but I just gotta so I can fuck up a maneuver at full speed and bust my ribs because I’d love to see the look on Reiner’s face when that happens.’ I ate breakfast in a hurry and everything.”

It doesn’t sound as antagonistically flippant as you meant it to sound, sadly, because it actually hurts to talk right now, and because you actually are a little annoyed that he won’t look at you. You can’t even really see his expression, but from the way his brow looks extra furrowed and his nose seems to be crinkled a bit, you imagine he looks like he wants to smother you with your pillow.

With some effort, you push yourself to sitting more or less upright, though still leaning against the headboard, and take a look around. The infirmary is mostly empty but for a few other occupied beds, and afternoon light is spilling through the open windows on a gentle breeze. No one else seems to have any visitors right now.

Reiner is still wearing his body harness, the ODM gear on the floor to either side of his chair; you realize he must have abandoned the drill entirely to follow you here, giving you a pang of regret for being sarcastic with him. Even if he is being a little petulant right now, he’s so sweet…

A moment passes in awkward silence.

“Hey… can you bring me some water, please?” you ask softly, a hint of apology in your voice.

“Get it yourself,” he grumbles, and you can tell he’s trying his best to sound indifferent as he casts you a look from the corner of his eye. “Your ribs aren’t broken, just bruised. That cut on your leg looks pretty nasty, but seeing that you’re already fully capable of being a pain in the ass, I’m guessing the bump on your head didn’t do any lasting damage, either.”

Okay, he’s being really petulant right now.

You give him a look that says, ‘Are you kidding me?’ before swinging your legs off the side of the bed and getting to your feet.

A full body wave of pain draws a trembling exhalation from your lungs, threatening for a heartbeat to throw you off balance… and then Reiner brushes past you to briskly cross the room, returning a moment later looking like a fluffy blonde storm cloud, carrying a glass of water that he pushes into your outstretched hands with an irritated snort.

“Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?”

An incredulous look flashes across your face before you laugh, dropping yourself back onto the bed a little too hard and splashing yourself with some of the water in the process. A long whimper of pain escapes around your laughter, and you lay back against the pillows as you recompose yourself. Now Reiner’s just looking at you with an expression somewhere between frustrated concern and a confused pout.

“I’m sorry, Reiner, but coming from you of all people...” You look back up at him with a grin despite the pain, and the cold water all over your shirt. “Were you hoping I’d just keep asking you for water or something?”

His pout deepens; of course he’s not going to admit that…

"Come on, sit down,” you implore, setting the water aside and motioning him towards the chair. “Please?”

He sits back down in the chair as it creaks, but facing you this time. You’re able to snake your hand out to grab the harness running across his chest and tug him closer, and though he gives a halfhearted grumble, he allows you to pull him forward so that he’s slumped against the bed, his cheek resting on your stomach. This way, you can relax against your pillows while running your fingers through his hair and lightly grazing them across his cheekbone.

“You mad at me?”

“Hrmm.” You can feel him relaxing against you a little, and he can’t resist resting his eyes for a moment. “Dunno if I’d say angry, but it’s getting pretty damn aggravating how often you’ve been doing shit like this these last few months. You know you don’t have to test your limits in every dumbass way that gets into your head, right?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be pushing ourselves to become stronger?” You brush your hand across his forehead, him looking up at you now with those piercing golden eyes. “Besides, I don’t see you holding back. I mean, I’m not saying I think I’m as strong as you are, but--”

“Hey.” He cuts you off with a firmer tone than before, though he doesn’t lift his head, and his cheek is still smooshed against your belly. “I don’t want you going around with the idea that I think you’re weak or something, cuz I’ve never thought that. I just worry about you, and you’re a little over eager with the risks.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me.” You gaze out the window briefly before you continue, “But, if I get stronger, maybe you won’t... have to, y’know?”

Reiner gives a little huff of annoyance at this.

“Listen, even if you were stronger than the rest of the 104th put together, I’d...” His features tinge a little red as he struggles momentarily to maintain his grumpy expression with you. “I’d still wanna keep you safe ‘n stuff...”

Seeing the downright soppy look that you can’t keep from crossing your face in that instant, he clears his throat and glances aside with a forced air of impassivity before adding, “And I’d still worry about you, especially when you run around acting like you barely worry about yourself.”

You’re searching for the right words when the nurse suddenly enters the room, but – bless her – she merely pretends not to notice the pair of you as she tends to the other patients. You both fall silent for several long minutes as she minds the others, and when she finally leaves again, it’s Reiner who picks up the conversation before you can.

“You know, in another few months, we’re not gonna be cadets anymore. I know you’re still planning to join the Survey Corps. What the hell’s gonna happen to you when you’re out there if you don’t reign it in a little?”

Sighing, you decide that as long as he’s being all emotionally honest here, you may as well do the same. “Look, I get it. I wanna keep you safe, too… I wanna become strong enough to do that. That's all.”

Reiner isn’t sure how to reply, nor what emotion he should ascribe to the swelling feeling that grips his heart, and the strange but pleasant way his stomach seems to do a flip. He opts to just bury his face against your stomach and take your hand in his own, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m really gonna need you to work on your sense of self preservation for me, okay?”

“I will, I promise – as long as you’re gonna let me look out for you, too.”

“Deal. You are gonna have to rest until your ribs heal up, though. I’ll tie you down if I have to.”

“Aw, you just want an excuse to tie me up on a bed, don’t you?”

“Huh. Not gonna lie, you got me thinking about it now...”

You can only imagine how badly the other patients wish the two of you would shut up now.

#reiner #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x gender neutral reader #reiner braun x y/n #reiner x reader #reiner x reader fluff #reiner x y/n #low key tsundere reiner #mild bickering ensues

[striderl]

I have a general art-related question, if that's okay. I admire how _quickly_ you seem to be able to produce art -- whenever someone sends you a character-based ask, you seem to always answer it with a nice little picture (not just a scribble or something) with lineart and often colouring too! Do you have any advice for acquiring art stamina like that? I used to enjoy drawing, but got burnt out on it because every piece felt like so much WORK and it drained the enjoyment for me. I absolutely could not match the output you do!

Thanks for the compliment, lensman! Your drawings are equally cool too! I'm engrossed in the textures especially. And yes, sometimes I’m even amazed by the many asks I’m able to answer in a single week. Usually, I answer them within 3 days, in rare occasions, it may take me 2 weeks or so to answer them.

As for insights, there you go.

#1: Practice is the key. To not get art block, you need to be constantly practicing, like doing scribbles on your sketchbook when you have time. It can be anything, from basic shapes to “whatever you can spy with your little eye”. Also, improve your speed while doing it, and limit your time to finish an acceptable rough draft, so you won’t lose the motivation to finish the entire drawing.

#2: Mastery. READ THE MANUAL AND INSTRUCTION of whatever platform you are using to make art, and master the tools, so you won’t drag on too long on a single project. Personally, I use a mixture of Procreate and ibisPaint X to make art and comics. And the skills don’t come for free, you need to constantly learn new features in order to keep up the pace and limit the time you spend on each project. Honestly, I think I spend more time on Youtube, Pinterest, and Instagram scavenging art tips and resources than doing other things with them. The result is rather rewarding, the knowledge I gained about the color wheel, anatomy, and platform features like multiply and overlay are really helpful.

#3: Reference. I always have available anatomy or art references on my side, usually from Pinterest, so I don’t need to waste time speculating what the result would look like. I also collect references I’m interested in whenever I have time, so I’m well prepared whenever I want to start a new project.

If you want to check it out, this is the cover I made for Foley’s playlist, which I finished within 3 hours.

#4: Motivation. You need to truly enjoy the process of producing art in order to not get an art block. I think I never get a single art block period so far. Why? It’s the only way I get to relieve my anxiety. College can be really harsh sometimes, I have a really small social circle, and on top of that I need to deal with stress which most of my peers don’t even need to worry about, like managing an apartment, doing accounting on my own, taking care of electric bills, and more. What’s worse is that people can be massive suckers sometimes, and I just turned 18 a few months ago. I know I can’t just throw a tantrum or jump off a building whenever I feel stressed, so I just move on and focus my attention on doing better in art. If people want to insult me, I just insult them back with my talent.

Also, I mentioned this in my reblog to your Skibidi Toilet anniversary post. My parents don’t approve of me doing art like this, because it’s “unrealistic” and basically “useless”, I just want some space where I can express my creativity. Ironically, defiance can be a motivation sometimes.

Plus, I just purely enjoy the feeling of sitting in my room, listening to my favorite playlist, and sipping on a cup of hazelnut matcha, while doing art. And I always, ALWAYS appreciate people putting comments in their reblogs, it’s like an accomplishment, and it shows that people really check out my content and READ IT, instead of “wow, cool art”.

If I don't feel like doing art, I'll just go for a 5 miles run instead. Physical health is still important : }

#Ask #lensman-arms-race #Art advice

[sailtomarina]

Study hard

If he read a single word more, Draco was going to explode.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra reading, or writing, or practical application. He’d read everything there was to read, written every stance imaginable, and wand waved until his arms nearly fell off. He needed a break. He deserved a break.

Shoving his chair away from the table, he made to stand up, but found himself impeded by two warm arms winding their way around his neck and a weight settling against his back.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Granger. 

Like him, she’d returned to Hogwarts for her 8th year to finish out her N.E.W.T.s, but unlike him, she’d chosen to do so of her own free will. He was given no such choice in the manner. Draco Malfoy was to graduate from Hogwarts on court order, and spend the next decade devoting himself to the Ministry in a field of his choosing. It was a favorable outcome, all things considered. He could have been like his father, sentenced to half a century in prison. He could have had his wand revoked, or his memories of the wizarding world wiped clean. He could have been forced into house arrest for the remainder of the school year as a remote student—this was actually his first preference.

Preferences were not an option. Draco found himself bundled up onto the Hogwarts Express with a mission to graduate with honors. No exceptions.

Then she happened.

Hermione Granger—know-it-all, rival, rebel with a cause, former prefect—sauntered into his train car, sat her sweet arse down in front of him, and demanded a fresh start. No more name calling, no guilt trips. Following through on her defense of him in front of the entire Wizengamot, she declared the two of them equal. How could he refuse?

They shook on it, and she settled in for the rest of the train ride with her nose buried in a book looking as natural as a cat in a box. Draco? He was the caged canary.

The weeks that followed were some of the most challenging and invigorating weeks of his life. Obviously, he received all the derision and disregard that he deserved from most of the student body. In exchange, he found himself in a nonstop race to the top of every class with Hermione Granger, their names trading places from exam to exam. On the rare instance when Theo or Boot usurped their reign, they’d take the top spots back with a vengeance.

This is actually what prompted them into regular study sessions together. Call it a pooling together of resources, or perhaps combining forces for the greater good. Weekly meetings turned into three days a week, and then eventually into daily meetups. The sight of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger sitting together at their table in the back by the window became a regular, even expected, sight. Heated arguments over scholarly disagreements took place in the 8th-year common room, far from the disapproving eyes of Madam Pince.

“I’m going mental. I need a break. Or maybe a vacation.” Draco kept his voice low—they were still in the library, after all.

The arms around him tightened, and Granger nuzzled his neck like some kind of grooming cat. “If you don’t study hard, I’m bound to beat you.”

He adjusted his pants. If she kept hugging him like this, he’d be forced to drag her off somewhere private. He wasn’t sure he’d make it very far.

“I highly doubt you’ve studied any harder than I have. I just happen to know when to call it quits and take some well deserved rest.”

“Is that what you Slytherins call it? Rest?”

Sweet suffering Salazar.

“I could actually use another reference from the Restricted Section. Care to join me?” His fingers played with the buttons of her cuffs, and he dropped his head back to lock his gaze with her own.

If only his father could see him now—his only son and heir trading heated looks with the girl he’d spent the entirety of his school years reviling. It was comical, really, how Draco had mistaken his own infatuation for animosity. His eyes were clear now. He knew without a doubt that he was one lucky wizard and that, Hermione-willing, he’d spend the rest of his days living up to her high expectations.

The smirk that slid onto her face was frighteningly similar to his trademark, yet another influence their classmates noticed more frequently as each day passed. Releasing her hold on him, she held a hand out in agreement, allowing him to lead her into the stacks far from prying eyes and ears.

If anyone had asked them later who ended up snatching the top scores that cycle, they would have been hard pressed to remember. In truth, they were both winners that particular day, and every one after that. Restful, well referenced winners.

WC 822

#dramione prompt #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy