#pictures i took hanging out the window like a fucking idiot

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 4: Add You To My List

Summary: After you spend the night together, you wake up to a surprise. You and Javi spend the morning getting ready together after he offers to spend the day running errands with you.

Warnings: Smut (18+), unprotected P in V sex (wrap it up, y'all), shower sex, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, some teasing kissing, mentions of panic/anxiety, mentions of food, language, Lorraine occupying space in Javi's mind

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: This got split into two parts after their morning together and their shopping trip got WAY too long. Osita is me, as I too also take showers the same temperature as the surface of the sun.

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Sunlight spilled through your windows, slowly waking you up. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept that well, especially the last time you slept wrapped in someone’s arms. The fact that Javi’s arms were so strong and sturdy only made it that much more pleasant. You scrunched your face, stretching your body to try and wake yourself up. 

“Good morning” you mumbled, still half sleeping. 

No response. 

You turned over, assuming Javi was still asleep, not bothered by the sunlight. Except, he wasn’t there. Sheets were left tangled on his side of the bed where he had slept last night, the space he once occupied empty. 

Trying to use every ounce of rationality you, you took a deep breath. It’s fine, he’s probably just in the bathroom. Still naked from the night before, you slipped out of bed to grab Javi’s button down you had sported the majority of last night. 

His clothes were gone. 

Your heart started to beat faster as you grabbed an oversized shirt from your drawer and quickly tip-toed over to the bathroom. 

Lights off, door open. 

Maybe he’s in the living room? Kitchen? You were trying so hard to convince your brain to not panic, but it was getting harder. 

“Javi?” You softly called out to an empty living space. 

No response. 

In a last ditch effort to convince yourself there was any chance Javi hadn’t up and left, you looked by your entry way to find both his shoes and keys missing. 

Fuck. 

You could feel the tears welling behind your eyes as devastation flooded your body. You fucking idiot, you curse silently to yourself. How had you gotten your hopes up that much? Of course he left. You got way too comfortable. You told him you really liked him. You wanted to go on a date with him. You had just met this man and you thought it was a good idea to show him a picture of you as a kid with a sharpie mustache? You got way ahead of yourself. God, was it the sex? You knew it had been a while. It was amazing for you, was it not good for him? Was he mad that you put out after barely any time hanging out with him? Fuck. Your head was spinning with doubt as the tears you were trying too hard to suppress came streaming down your cheeks. 

Defeated and heartbroken, you grabbed a blanket and curled yourself up in a ball on the couch. You knew all of this had to have been too good to be true. Trying to find any temporary distraction to ease your disappointment, you reached over for the remote on the TV to turn on Sports Center to turn on highlights from hockey playoffs you missed yesterday. Your watery eyes blurred last night replays, sniffling to yourself, curling deeper into your blanket. So distracted by your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the door open behind you. 

“Oh, you’re up!” A sweet, low voice carried across your living room, prompting you to peek your head above the couch. 

There stood Javi, dressed in last night’s outfit, holding a sizable to-go bag and two travel coffee cups. Immediately noticing your red, wet face, he set down everything on the entryway shelf and made his way to you. 

“Hermosa, what’s wrong?” His big hands gently cupping your face. 

You could barely form any words from the confusion and embarrassment rushing through you. “Wait, I thought that- I woke up and- it’s just, you were gone, I thought I did something wrong and you were mad, and I-“ 

“Did you think I got up and left this morning?” 

“Yeah…” 

“No, of course I didn’t leave. I just got up early and knew you didn’t have a lot of food so I figured I’d go get breakfast from down the street. Osita, I’m sorry, I left you a note and put it on the door, did you not see it?” 

“Wait, a note? What note?” You looked over at the door in confusion.

“Fuck.” Javi got up to look around your doorway, after a few seconds, he held the slightly crumpled sticky note in his hands and passed it off to you. 

Osita,

Went to get breakfast. Figured you didn’t want to eat Mac and cheese this early. Be back soon. 

                                                                -J 

P.s. you’re cute when you sleep, even if you took up the whole bed last night 

“It must have fallen off when I closed the door behind me. Shit, I’m sorry. I figured I’d be back in enough time to be back before you even woke up. You striked me as someone who isn’t happy if they miss out on breakfast so I wanted to have food here when you got up.” 

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you took a deep breath of relief. “No it’s okay, I didn’t even think to look on the floor. I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing. But you are right, I do get grumpy if I don’t eat in the morning. Thank you.” You both laughed quietly as you unwrapped yourself from your blanket cocoon and Javi pulled you up to stand. 

Heading back to the entryway, he picked up the food and coffee and set it down on the kitchen table. “Wanna eat?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Yesterday, it became very clear to you that in the bedroom, if Javier Peña was anything, it was through. It obviously must’ve carried into all aspects of his life, because he pulled out just about one of every breakfast item out of the to-go bag. 

“How many breakfasts were you planning on eating?” You giggled as the contents spilled on to the table. “This is like Mary Poppins’ bag.” 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got a lot to choose from.” 

“Lucky for you,” you opened the container of pancakes, “breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and I will eat it at any and all hours, morning, noon, or night.” 

You reached across the table for one of the coffee cups. “Do you want anything for your coffee, or do you just do it black?” 

“Just black.” He responded, opting for what looked like some hashbrowns and eggs from the bag. 

“Gross.” 

You brought the vanilla coffee creamer you had from the fridge over to the table to turn your coffee from a dark, rich brown to a very light pale tan. 

“Gross? Hermosa, that’s creamer with a little bit of coffee.” 

“Sorry I’m not manly enough to drink straight black coffee.” You teased. 

“It’s not even a matter of manliness, I just don’t think you really like coffee.” 

“I do. Just with lots of cream.” You smirked and shrugged as you began cutting up the pancakes in front of you. “Thank you for all this. You didn’t have to do that. Sorry again for putting myself in a panic over something I didn't need to. You are right, though. It does beat breakfast Mac and Cheese.” 

You both quickly downed your breakfast and packed the leftovers into your sad looking fridge. Looking at its limited contents, you scribbled down some much needed items on the grocery list you had clipped to your freezer. Realizing the list now spanned front and back after neglecting to go last week, you let out a huff knowing this was about to be a long grocery trip and you didn’t want your inevitable Sunday To-Do’s to interfere with your time spent with Javi. 

“Never seen someone so stressed about a grocery list.” Javi laughed, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Well, I didn’t go last week and I pretty much have nothing left in this house, so it’s about to be a big trip.” 

“Why don’t I go with you?” 

You whipped your head around and gave Javi a bewildered look. “What do you mean?” 

“Go grocery shopping with you.” 

“But it’s grocery shopping?” 

“Do you not want me to go?” 

“No, I do, but again, it’s grocery shopping? 

“And?” 

 “It’s like the most boring thing to do. I have to run other errands while I’m out too, I don’t want you to be stuck with me if you have other things to do.” 

“Well wouldn’t it be much less boring if you had someone with you? I have no plans today, Osita. I’d love to spend the day with you, if that’s okay. Even if it means grocery shopping.” 

You licked your tongue over the top of your teeth, trying to keep your grin from spreading all the way across your face. “It would definitely be much less boring if you came. Guess grocery shopping just got a lot more exciting.” 

Javi stood up from his chair and made his way towards you in the kitchen. “Do we have to leave right now?” He leaned down as your lips met his, giving you a quick kiss and wrapping his broad arms around your body. 

“No…” You pressed your body closer into his. 

“Do we have to leave any time soon?” His lips met yours again, this time lingering longer, his hands moving down your hips to grab your ass. 

“Also no…” You reached your arms up to hook around his neck, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes. “Any reason why?” You mocked, knowing exactly why he had asked the question. 

His answer as to “why” was lifting you up so that your legs wrapped around the small of his back and carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. After fumbling your way down the hall, Javi practically flung you on your bed, shrieking in delight as he did. You pulled at the ends of his opened button down to bring him closer to you. It didn’t take long for Javi to work his hands under the hem of your shirt, softly squeezing your breasts under your oversized t-shirt. Prompting you to lift your arms over your head, Javi helped you shed your shirt, leaving your underwear the last thing he needed to remove. You were already drenched, a wet spot pooling in your panties as Javi hooked his fingers under the edges to slide them down your legs. Nudging your knees open, he smirked at the slick already forming, your pussy glistening from its wetness. 

“Always so wet for me, Hermosa. Anyone else ever made you this wet, huh? Anyone else ever made you feel this good?” 

He was confident, but he wasn’t wrong. You shook your head as you stared into the dark, lustful pools of his eyes. You wiggled your bottom half, shifting around on the bed, trying to do anything to put friction between your legs to ease your throbbing ache. 

“Answer me, Osita. Answer me and I’ll give you what you need.” 

“No, Javi. No one has. Fuck, you make me feel so good. Please touch me, please.” 

“Needy, are we?” 

Two fingers slowly circled around your entrance, gathering your slick and barely rubbing it against your clit. You could tell Javi was teasing you, taking his sweet time as you got more and more worked up. You were absolutely desperate for him to do something. 

“Javi, pleaseee…” You whined. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you. 

One finger dove inside you, thick and finally satisfying your emptiness. The worn pad of his thumb ran back and forth over your clit as a second finger quickly joined the first. Your moans were breathy and desperate, realizing just how worked up you were. Javi’s fingers curled, bumping up against the sweet, soft spot inside you. The wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filled the room. You could tell Javi was talking it all in, mentally mapping in his brain the things that made you lose your mind in the best way possible. You weren’t going to last much longer. Your pussy began to clench tighter around Javi’s fingers and the feeling in your stomach began to build. Javi knew you were close- He had already stored those clues away in his mind. 

“So tight, baby. I know you’re close. Come for me.” 

Only a few more thrusts of his hand and your body was shuttering as it was sent over the edge. You grasped on to your sheets as your orgasm pulsed through you, euphoria running through your veins. Last night, Javi brought you down from your high, slowing his pace before removing his fingers. This time, it was not the case. After you came to, you felt Javi’s fingers still plunging into you. Worked up and on the edge of overstimulation, you looked at Javi, who now had a satisfied smirk growing across his face. 

“Gonna give you one more, Osita. I know you can take it. Gonna be a good girl and come all over my hand again?” 

“Yes, holy fuck.” Words barely forming in your brain. 

Javi played with you in a way that kept you craving more. You were already so on edge, you knew it wouldn’t take much. 

Magic dick AND magic hands. 

His pace intensified both with his fingers and his thumb rubbing over your throbbing bundle of nerves. You could feel your legs shaking as your second orgasm built inside you. It didn’t take much to send you reeling once again, coming even harder than you did just moments ago. The soft screams of Javi’s name echoed against the walls as your body filled with pleasure. 

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Did so good for me.” Javi mewled, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you. 

Out of breath, Javi gave you a few seconds to come back to life before landing a hot, wet kiss on your mouth. 

“I’m adding magic hands next to magic dick on the tombstone of the grave you’re about to put me in, Javier Peña. Fuck, that felt so good.” 

You could feel how painfully Javi’s cock must have been straining against his zipper as the denim bulge in his jeans rubbed across your thigh. Your hand reached down to palm the outside of his jeans, and made your way up to his belt buckle and zipper. “You want me to take care of you, baby? So hard already.” 

Javi rolled his head back as your hand crept down his pants. He absolutely did, but right now, he had other plans. 

“Fuck, Hermosa, I do. But I wanna fuck you first. Wanna fuck you from behind and see that pretty ass of yours. Can I, baby?” 

“Holy shit, yes.” 

Javi quickly undressed the rest of himself, shuffling his pants down his legs, sliding his boxers along with them, freeing his cock, already red and leaking precum from its tip. Leaning over you, he reached down in your nightstand drawer, his hand shuffling around the condom box. He moved his hand around the insides once more to make sure. Empty. 

“Hey, uh, Hermosa,” He pulled the box out of the nightstand. “We’re um, all out.” 

“It’s okay.” 

He looked down at you curiously. 

“I know we didn’t talk about it yesterday, but I’m on the pill.” You shifted under him to reach in your drawer, pulling out the half-finished packet. “I take it religiously, and I had my OBGYN check everything just to be safe, but I, uh…” 

“But? It’s okay, talk to me.” You swore there was something about looking into those chocolate brown eyes that would have made you spill any of your secrets in a heartbeat. 

“It’s embarrassing.” Javi said nothing. Those sweet eyes coaxed it right out of you. 

“I’ve um, I…I’ve never had sex without using a condom before.” 

Javi froze. He looked shocked. You cut him off before he even had a chance to ask anything. 

“I know, I know, it’s dumb. I always used them and I started taking birth control years ago but I still made Paul use condoms because I think subconsciously I was terrified of even the most minute chance of him being the father of my children. But it didn’t really matter anyways because he was too busy fucking somebody else that we never had sex anyways.” 

“Osita, if you still want me to use a condom I can. I haven’t been with anyone since I got back from Colombia and I got checked when I got home too but I want you to be comfortable-“ 

“No. Unless you really want to. Javi, I want you to-”

Your mouths were crashing together again, your body grinding into his. He pulled you in closer, the hair on his mustache tickling your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Tell me what you want, baby girl. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” His words left you dripping, desperate to ease the emptiness between your legs, you moaned. 

“I want you to cum inside me Javi. I want you to fill me up. Please. I need you in me.” 

“Jesus, Hermosa. Keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me bust right now.”  The Adam's apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed and let out a deep exhale. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

“Hands and knees, baby.” He gently nudged you to turn over as you lifted up your ass, playfully shaking it at him. He grabbed the soft flesh, kneading it in his hands. “Fucking love your ass.” He leaned down to kiss where his hands once grabbed. Spitting in his hand, he stroked himself a few times before running his tip through your folds. “You ready for me?” 

“Please, Javi.” 

Just like that, Javi carefully sunk himself into you. Holy shit, did it feel good. You could feel every inch of him against your walls. On top of that, the way he had you propped up on your hands and knees had his dick pushing in you in a way that somehow felt even better than before. He took his time with each stroke, letting you adjust to his uncovered length. Your brows scrunched at the sweet pinch of him stretching you out in the best way. He began to pick up the pace of his thrusts as you pushed your ass back into him, whimpering at how good it felt. Javi lightly smacked your ass, massaging it after. 

“Does it feel good? Feeling all of me baby, knowing I’m gonna fuck you full of me?” 

“Yes, fuck, fuck, Javi it feels so good. I love feeling you in me.” 

His fingertips gripped your hips, pulling you deeper on to him. One hand slid between your legs, rubbing back and forth against your clit before grabbing you and flipping you over on your back. Grabbing underneath your calf, he took your leg and propped it over his shoulder keeping his pounding pace steady. His forehead glistened with sweat, making his dark curls stick to it. The muscles on his arms strained as he held you in place, filling you with each thrust. 

“I wanna see you when you come, baby. Not gonna last much longer after you do. Wanna watch how good it makes you feel when I fill you up.” His voice was low and raspy, grunting with each thrust. God, his filthy words and voice alone was almost enough to finish you right then and there. His hips snapped into yours, picking up speed. He knew you were close from the way he could feel your pussy begin to flutter around him. Suddenly, something in you snapped. You could feel yourself gushing around Javi’s cock, screaming his name, feeling like you had been lifted off into another dimension. You came so hard you practically felt like you were seeing stars. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet when you come for me, Hermosa. Still want me to give it to you? Cum inside you and fill you full of me?” 

You came so hard that you couldn’t even think straight. Some way or another your fuzzy brain frantically nodded “yes”, desperately. Javi lowered the leg on his shoulder down to the bed as you wrapped both of your legs around his back, keeping him as deep in you as possible. He took his arm and slid it under your back, pulling you up to sit on his lap. As he pistoned into you, you could feel his movements become more sloppy and frantic as he came closer to his release. Only a few more pumps, and you heard Javi begin to let out a low moan, followed by the feeling of him spilling into you, his spend covering your walls. You could feel his sick throbbing inside you, milking himself of every drop he had in him. You could feel the mix of both of you running down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap. He laid you back down on to the bed, slowly pulling himself out of you, making your oversensitive heat clench at the loss. Kneeling over you, he leaned down to nibble at your ear and whisper. “Everything you’d hope it be?” 

Still breathless, you ran your fingers through the damp locks of his hair and nibbled at his chin. “Even better than I could have imagined. Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me, Osita. Feel honored to have been the first.” The possessive part of his brain hoped he’d also be the last. “Let me clean you up. Do you have a towel I can use?” 

“Yeah, there’s washcloths and towels underneath the sink in the bathroom.” He kissed your head and made his way to the bathroom in all of his naked glory. This man seriously looked like he was sculpted by a Greek God. You giggled as you watched him walk away. He turned around, hearing you. 

“What are you laughing at?” 

“Just admiring. You realize how fucking hot you are? What’s not to admire?” you gestured with your eyes around the width of his broad body.

Javi blushed, taken aback by your compliment. Smiling and turning back around he disappeared into the bathroom, emerging moments later with a wet washcloth in hand. Sitting next to you, he gently took the warm towel and wiped up the mess the two of you had made and threw the towel across the room into the hamper. 

“Okay, Michael Jordan, nice shot!” You laughed, impressed by Javi’s throw. 

“Oh, he’s that basketball guy, right?” He replied, trying to make sure he understood the reference. 

“The basketball guy?! Chicago Bulls former superstar? The greatest athlete in the world? God, you really did miss out on a lot when you were in Colombia. Guess we have a lot of catching up to do.” You playfully nudged him. Feeling bad about bringing up anything about his time away, you felt the need to reassure him you were just joking.  “I’m just giving you a hard time.” 

“It’s okay, Osita, I know. I’m glad I’ll have someone around to get me up to speed on everything.” 

You both sat next to each other, exchanging soft smiles. Something about being in each other’s presence felt so comforting, even in the small moments of silence that fell between you. 

“Well, as great as this has all been, I should probably shower before we go out to do anything. I’m pretty sure I reek of sweat and sex, which is not a stench I need to be rockin’ out in public.” 

“Yeah, a shower is probably a good idea. Do you wanna go first? I don’t mind waiting.” 

“What do you mean, do I want to go first?” 

“Like, take a shower first?” 

“You don’t want to just shower with me? There’s room for both of us in the shower, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Just didn’t want to intrude. Wanted to give you your space if you needed it.”  

“Well that’s very sweet of you, but I don’t mind at all. Just like grocery shopping- It’s a lot more fun if you do it with someone else.” 

Javi couldn’t think of the last time he had showered with someone. He hadn’t really afforded that luxury to any of his informants back in Colombia. Fuck, the last person he must have showered with had to have been Lorraine. The last time he had talked to his ex-fiancé was a few years back on a HR mandated break where Javi had been home for a week or so with his dad. Before that, it was the night before their wedding, packing his bags and getting ready to leave across the country, and leave her at the alter. He had tried to shower with her a few times in their on again, off again relationship, but every time he tried, she was always annoyed with his presence, wanting him out of her way so she could hog all the hot water and carry out her 4,000 step beauty routine in peace. But right now, she was the last thing Javi wanted to think about. He knew it was baggage he was going to have to unpack to you at some point, but right now wasn’t the time. 

He watched as you retrieved two big fluffy towels from under your sink, placing them on the edge of your bathroom counter before heading over to the shower to turn on the water and let it heat up. Your bathroom was a surprisingly decent size for being a one bedroom apartment, without constantly bumping into each other. He could tell you were quietly humming to yourself as you pulled a brush out of the small linen closet and focused in the mirror as you detangled the messy ends of hair. He couldn’t help but gawk at you, his eyes running up and down the lengths of the curves of your naked body. God, you were beautiful. He stared at your reflection in the mirror, his eyes locking with yours, catching you by surprise. 

“What?” You giggled, face still focused on brushing your hair. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head, still smiling at you. His words had said “nothing”, but his tone meant “everything.” 

“What are you humming?” 

Your cheeks turned pink. You hadn’t even realized you had been signing to yourself, which was embarrassing enough, let alone the song. 

“A song by Queen.” Hoping that would be enough to fend off the next impending question. 

“What song?” 

Dammit, Javi. You knew there was no point in lying- this man really could read you like a book. 

“Um, it’s uh, Somebody to Love.” You didn’t think your cheeks could get any redder than they were right now. The 4 letter word at the end of the song title felt like a bomb about to explode. You had known Javi for 5 days. Not even a week. There’s no way you could feel that way about someone in 5 days, right? Fuck, you didn’t feel this way about Paul once in the 3 years you were with him. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone you’d ever been with. Something about Javi made you feel so safe, at home, like you had known him forever. Everything felt so easy. Was it too easy? 

“Oh, I’ve uh, heard that one before actually. It’s been a while, don’t really remember it. You’ll have to play it for me sometime.” 

At least the bomb was partially diffused, for now. 

“Glad you’re asking me to play it and not sing it for you, I’ll spare your ears.” 

“I heard you sing yesterday when we were cooking. You have a pretty voice.” 

One shade more shade of red and your face might have well been a tomato. 

“Thanks. I don’t mind singing, I know some people hate it. Being an elementary school teacher I just end up singing random things to the kids to help them remember to do stuff or remember what we learned.” 

“My mom would do that, too. Me and my dad would always get annoyed with her because she would have the songs stuck in her head all day and then get them stuck in ours when she got home.” 

“Do you remember any of them?” It filled your heart to know Javi was comfortable talking about his mom in front of you. You had heard stories from you co-workers about what a great woman she was, and you would have never pried to get him to talk about anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

“Not really… Except for that God awful one about what day of the week it was.” 

“The one that is set to The Addams Family?” You smirked, hoping it was the song you were thinking of, considering you sung it to your class every day. 

“Fuck… You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

“Days of the week… Days of the week… Days of the Week, Days of the Week, Days of the Week.” You sang in an obnoxious tone to the show’s theme song. 

“This song is the worst, you know that right?” Javi loudly stated over your continued singing. 

“There’s Sunday and there’s Monday, there’s Tuesday and there’s Wednesday. There’s Thursday and there’s Friday, and then there’s Saturday!” 

“I could go my entire life without ever hearing that song again.” You both burst into full on laughter at the ridiculous sight of you nakedly serenading him with a song about the days of the week. 

“Can’t say I blame your mom for that one. If we have to suffer with that stupid song every day, so should you.” Still laughing, Javi playfully smacked your butt. 

“Get your ass in the shower, Osita.” 

“Fine. I will warn you for future reference, I am a chronic shower singer, but I will spare you any more concerts today.” You winked as you slid the shower curtain open and stepped over the edge of the tub under the running water. You let the water run down your face, pushing your hair back and out of the way as Javi stepped in behind you. 

“Holy shit!” 

“What? Are you okay?” 

“The water is fucking hot!” 

“It’s not even that hot! This is my starting temperature!” 

“Starting temperature? Osita, this is hot enough to burn your flesh! It’s hotter than Hell in here!” 

“Fine, ya big baby, I’ll turn the heat down.” 

You twisted the knob and turned around you face Javi. “Better?” 

“Yes, now that it’s not the surface of the fuckin’ sun in here.” 

You went to reach over Javi towards the shower caddy hanging on your wall. “Can you pass the shampoo, please?” You squeeze a sizeable glob in your hand, before passing it off to Javi, who did the same. You repeated the same routine with the conditioner, switching spots every so often to let each other rinse out your hair. 

“Body wash me!” 

“Which one? There’s two.” 

“Doesn’t matter. You pick.” 

“What one did you shower with yesterday?” 

“The mango coconut one, why?” 

“You smelled good yesterday.”

“You were smelling me yesterday? Weirdo.”

“No, I uh-“

“Javi, shhhh I’m just kidding, don’t worry. Mango coconut it is.” 

Javi shook and squeezed the contents of the bottle into your hand. This time, instead of scrubbing down yourself, you lathered your hands together and ran them across Javi’s chest. You felt the tenseness of his muscles ease as you worked the shampoo across his body. You worked your way across his back and arms, feeling his heavy sighs releasing his stress. Your hands began to roam lower, squeezing his butt before trailing down the V of his hips. You could feel him half hard against your leg with the little distance between you. Lowering your grasp, you reached around his girth, now hard and heavy in your hands. 

“Can I take care of you?” 

Javi leaned his head back. “Fuck me- Yeah, baby.” He let out a low breathy sigh as you lowered to your knees. You continued twisting around his base as your tongue met his tip, hot and heavy against you. Twisting your tongue around before taking a long, slow lick along his length, you could hear Javi swearing under his breath in a mix of Spanish and English. You began to take him further into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth until he reached the back of your throat. You could feel the veins of his cock pulsing along your mouth as you continued to work around him.

“Where do you want me baby?” 

Batting your lashes to look up at the broad figure hovering above you, your mouth slid off of him with a pop before you answered. 

“In my mouth. I want you to come down my throat. Want to taste you so bad.” 

Your words just about did him in. “Jesus Christ. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to come down your throat, fill you with me again?” 

“Please.” You nodded before kissing his tip and then engulfing him back into your mouth. Your twists and sucking became faster and sloppier, knowing that Javi was hanging on by a thread. You felt him place his hand along your jaw, guiding your head back and forth along him. 

“Fuck, Osita. I’m close. Fuck, fuck, I-“ 

His cock pulsed in your mouth as his sweet, salty release coated the walls of your throat. A low groan followed as you swallowed his seed and licked the rest dribbling along the tip. “God damn, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that.” 

Helping you up off of your knees, he pulled you in closer to kiss you, the taste of him still heavy in your mouth. 

“Yeah, it felt good?” 

“More than good, baby. Fucking amazing. You want me to take care of you?” 

There was no denying that what just happened had left you dripping, but the amount of times that Javi’s thick fingers and huge dick had been inside of you in the past 12 hours, and the long dry spout you had before last night had you feeling a little tender. As much as you wanted to, your body needed a break.

“No, it’s okay, you've gone down on me more than any man has in the last 5 years combined, I just wanted to do something to return the favor.” 

Javi wasn’t convinced. “You sure? Am I doing something you don’t like? If I am, you can tell me, it's okay, I promise, I just wanna make you feel good.” 

“Oh my God, no Javi. The opposite, actually. You’re fucking amazing. So amazing that I am a little bit sore from your magic hands and magic huge dick, and lack of sex up until this point. Plus, it makes me feel good knowing I made you feel good. You went down on me like 4 times last night, believe me, its the least I can do.” 

“Okay, Osita. Well, if you change your mind, just let me know. I'm more than happy to make that number 5 times whenever you want me to. You still okay if I wash you?" He smiled at you gently, squirting the sweet smelling soap into his hands.

“Thanks, Javi. Are you just looking for another excuse to touch my butt?" You giggled as the bubbles built in his hands from scrubbing them together.

"Maybe." He smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips.  

Javi gently scrubbed around your body, his huge hands engulfing you in his grasp. You let him enjoy his extra time working around your boobs and ass, knowing he was very much enjoying himself. You both took one final rinse under the shower head before turning it off and stepping out to wrap yourself in the fluffy towels you had set out. He ran the towels through his wet dark curls before wrapping the towel around his waist and resting his hip along the bathroom counter. You wrapped yourself up as well, grabbing a smaller towel from under the sink to wrap up your hair and a caddy with some beauty products to put on the counter next to Javi. 

A dismayed look spread across Javi’s face. "Is it okay if I stay in here while you get ready? I can leave if you want me to, sorry."

“Why are you apologizing? You don’t have to be in here if you don’t want to, but I'd love to have you in here with me. I don't think I've ever met a guy who's wanted to stick around after I'm not naked from the shower anymore. I asked Paul once if he wanted to hang out while I got ready and he looked at me like I had asked him to shove an octopus up his ass. I’ll kick ya out if I need to, don’t worry.” 

Javi laughed to himself as he sat on the lid of your toilet seat for the next 20 minutes watching you with his puppy dog eyes as you got yourself ready. The bathroom was filled with a quiet, comfortable silence as you focused on finishing your routine quickly. You were convinced that Javi’s eyes hadn’t left you even for a moment. The beautiful, half naked man sitting next to you in your bathroom was making it much more difficult than usual to concentrate. Your last step was brushing your teeth, globing your toothbrush with minty toothpaste.

“Do you want a toothbrush? I have extras.” Your mouth half foamy as you brushed. 

He nodded as you shuffled around in your closet to pull out a new toothbrush and hand it to him. After reaching over you to fill his brush with toothpaste, he stood behind you, his broad frame filling the mirror. It was so simple. You two standing in your bathroom brushing your teeth. Something you did every day, without thought. A simple moment that filled your heart contently. You both spit out your toothpaste, and went to set your brushes back on the cup you had on your counter. Without a word or thought, Javi put his right next to yours. Like it had always been there.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x f!reader #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena fluff #javier pena imagine #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x ofc #pedrohub #javier pena headcanon #javier peña smut #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x reader

[sansxfuckyou]

as it was

Summary: Kyle gets high easily, Kenny lives in the woods, Cartman learned how to sew, Stan brought a potted plant of marijuana- they all miss hanging out together like kids

Warnings: mild blood, weed, swearing, check Ao3 port for full tags.

Authors Note: ngl, i took the wrong edibles, got a little bit fried, wrote this when i woke up, hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking the Ao3 port

If there was one thing Kenny enjoyed about all that time he spent hanging around Stan was the knowledge he had inadvertently gained about how to grow weed. It got him one of his first jobs, clipping buds down at Tegridy, and definitely got him through harder times. But at that, it also let him not experience extreme withdrawal after exiling himself from town when the times got impossibly rough.

He doesn't remember why he did so in a picture perfect memory, but he's heard from his friends that the town has become a tourist attraction of sorts now that he isn't fucking the places population count every day. He shoots, he bags, he eats, and succumbs to the loneliness that not even a stack of playboys and homebrewed edibles can cure. Sure, the CBD high is nice for joint pain, but he'll forever mourn the winter he lost the plants that actually gave him a real high.

He lost so much that year, three separate strains, Citrus Dream, one he smuggled that he swears smelt like oreos (he called it Sugar Rush), and his dearly beloved Uncle OJ, a gift from Stan directly with heavy orange overtones. He ended up burning the remains, it left him locked to the cabin for a solid two weeks even with the windows open. He hasn't been able to shake the lung pain since, even after a death by bear attack.

He's smoking his last bud of the year (sadly nothing more than CBD), tossed it into the wood stove to just smoke out the place, when there's a knock on his door. The woods don't usually send something to knock on his door and kill him, try to kill him at least. They usually snuffle around the porch and blacked out windows while he circles with his shotgun, ready to shoot at any moment because that's dinner. Instead he grabs the pistol, cocks it, and gingerly walks up to the front door.

"Open the fucking door, Kenny!" Another knock, much louder, much more aggravated.

"He's probably out hunting," The voice is a bit more hushed.

The sound of something dropping on the porch, "I smuggled a plant just for him and he's out hunting when we finally track him down, what a fucking waste."

"Just leave it on the porch,"

"It'll freeze!"

"It's just weed you stoner piece of shit!"

"You're one to talk considering you're Tegridy's most loyal customer asshole!"

Kenny swings open the door to find three familiar faces, one of which standing in between Cartman and Stan to prevent them from killing each other. On the ground beside Stan is a plant that reaches up to his waist in size, crystalized bits clouding the leaves.

"Hi Ken," Kyle said, loud enough to snap Cartman and Stan from their bickering.

"I'm pretty sure you guys are gonna get frostbite if you make another dumbass trek out here," Kenny answered with.

"Then move out of the fucking doorway and let in your friends," Cartman snapped as he shoved aside Kyle with ease.

Kenny gladly slid to the side and his friends filtered in one at a time, except for Cartman who retreated back to the car. Stan hauled in the plant.

"What flavor is it?" Kenny asked eagerly as he reached for one the buds.

"No taste tests man," Stan chided, "But, it's just another Uncle OJ, dads thinking about canceling the line."

"Randy's canceling Uncle OJ? But, it's the Tegridy special."

"Apparently someone found a stray clipping laying around and cloned a fuckton of plants from it, it's all over town,"

"I could go down there and burn it,"

"Don't be an idiot," He placed down the plant at the foot of Kenny's bed, "You remember how to tend to these plants, right?"

Kenny nodded, "Obviously, I've been living off that CBD one you got me since Citrus Dream and Sugar Rush were lost in a cold snap."

"You lost Sugar Rush?" Stan asked.

"Again, cold snap, out of my control," Kenny retorted with.

Three bags of something are dropped at the door before Cartman nudges the door shut with his foot. Kenny glances over to find said bags to be some of those reusable bags the world practically mandated.

"I swear to god Kenny, you need to start chipping the ice on your porch," Cartman snarled as he slid down to the floor and reached into one of the bags. He pulled out a bundle of magazines, "They stopped printing playboys after you left."

"They stopped printing playboys?" He sounds distraught.

Kyle gave a hum, "Just recently, you're lucky that Cartman is still a sleaze who can't get laid."

"Shut up Kyle!" Cartman cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I got all the playboys you don't have," He handed the bundle to Stan who handed it to Kenny, "Thought you might enjoy them cause unless you're making love to the things you kill then you aren't getting any bitches out here."

Stan fakes a disgusted gag at the notions, Kyle scrunches up his face in disgust, Kenny just shrugs.

"You'd be shocked at how good of a dildo a single barrel shotgun can make," There goes his filter, there went his filter, he lost it a long time ago. And judging by the reactions his suspicions of fucking oneself with a gun being not normal are confirmed.

"And I'm glad to say that you haven't changed a bit," Cartman said as he rummaged through a second bag. He tossed a pack of something to Kenny, who held the package looking rather perplexed, "Advil, for when your CBD tolerance is so high you'll overdose before you get relief."

"You know me so well," Kenny said as he popped open the top drawer of his desk and slid it in along with all the other things he never made use of.

"That I fucking do," Cartman said before pulling up and chair next to the wood stove. He pulled out a sewing kit, "Karen asked me to fix up your jacket."

Kenny shrugged off his parka, "I'll have you know it's just fine," He said while tactfully avoiding the large tear. He balls it up and tosses it to Cartman, "Since when did you learn to sew?"

"Since he outgrew the largest size," Kyle sneered, rolling onto his stomach atop the comfortable mess of blankets.

Cartman just ignores the comment, "I'll have a hard time taking a eulogy seriously if my mom is wearing one of her slut dresses in the coffin."

"So you're gonna make your mom a dress for when she's dead?" Stan asked as he dropped down onto the floor next to the bed.

"Look, would you attend your dads funeral if he was wearing boxers with pink hearts on them and nothing else? I thought so," Cartman said as he came too a patch that was falling off, underneath it was a large gash.

"That's," The ravenette has a hard time finding a good word, "Sweet," Not the right word at all but it'll do.

There's this comfortable pause of silence between them, like they're just four idiot kids at the bus stop all over again. The crackle and pop of fire is the only difference, and the fact that the burning smell of weed is starting to lay heavy on the air. Kenny slides open the bottom drawer of his desk, the drawer he fills with the cool things he finds.

"Think fast,"

Kyle barely has time to react to the words, let alone catch what's being thrown his way. He props himself up against the wall a bit as he inspects the thing, "What is it?"

"Cool looking stick I thought you might like," Kenny answered with as he pulled out another thing and tossed it to Stan, "Cool looking rock."

"I don't get anything?" Cartman teased as he pulled the patch back into place, one leg crossed over the other.

Kenny sifted through his drawer of trinkets before tossing one to Cartman, "Grenade pin."

The brunette stuffs it in his back pocket, "Wicked."

"How come he gets the coolest thing?" Kyle whined as he twirled the stick between his fingers.

"It's swarming with whatever germs are inside of a bears liver," The blonde said and Cartman shudders at the notions but does nothing to get rid of the gift.

He just echoes back another, "Wicked," as he ties a knot in the embroidery thread and moves onto another tear. "How teared up did you manage to get this ratty old thing?"

Kenny shrugged, "It gets the job done."

"You'd be better off just running 'round stark naked with how fucked this thing is," Cartman said with a condescending edge to his voice.

"Fatso, watch your mouth, he could kick us out," Kyle snapped to the best of his ability. He rolled back onto his stomach with a hum.

"How much THC was in that weed?"

"What weed?"

"The stuff you're burning right now, I can smell it," Stan said.

"None," Kenny said, he grabbed the glass jar and tossed it to Stan, "All of it's CBD, I lost the goods in the cold snap man."

The ravenette popped open the jar and took a heavy huff. He coughed a bit at the potency, "First of all, use separate jars for separate strains, secondly, I'm pretty sure some OJ rubbed off on the bud you're burning."

"What makes you say that," The blonde twisted his chair to rest his chin on the backrest. He tapped steel tipped boots on the ground.

"I think Kyle's getting fried," Cartman said, nodding towards the redhead, "That or he's never used CBD and the sudden lack of stress and back pain is getting him wasted."

"Shut up,"

"He's baked," Cartman said confidently.

Stan gives a hum, "Can't get baked on CBD."

"CBD highs are wicked good for sleeping," Kenny countered with before a jacket came colliding into him, "Give some warning!"

Cartman said nothing as he rearranged his sewing kit, "You're so fucking lucky I know how to sew."

Kenny just rolled his eyes and tossed the bundle of fabric to the floor, "So, Kyle's fucking stoned."

"I'm not," Kyle said, he sounded just a bit distant, "I don't usually sit around in a room full of weed smoke."

"Any suggestions on what the fuck to do?" Kenny asked.

"We could just chat," Stan offered, "Chattings nice."

"I could go shoot up a rabbit, cook something up," Kenny offered cautiously.

"Want me to make sure they don't have sex on your bed?" Cartman offered.

"Those two are dating?" He sounds incredulous as he asks, pivoting to face Cartman a bit more.

"We are not dating," Stan growled out and Cartman just laughs.

"Whatever your arrangements are, I want some," He's joking, a bit, he's definitely not genuine when he says it, "Besides, that bed needs to see some action."

"Don't die out there," Kyle chimed in with from the bed.

Kenny tugs on his parka, bright orange now faded, and slings on his gun, "I won't, be back soon."

"I'll deal with the fire while you're out," Cartman offered up, but Kenny knows it's not an offer you say no too.

-/-/-/-

Cartman did a damn good job stitching together Kenny's jacket, it hasn't held this much heat for a long time. He manages one rabbit, shockingly plump despite the stringiness winter months usually cause. It's blood is splattered across the white fur in such a way it's almost comical, it's still warm as hauls it back.

He nudges open the door and slides it shut with his foot, clicking on the safety and dropping down his gun. He drops the rabbit on top of his desk of many purposes and reaches into the middle drawer for his skinning knife.

"Kenny, help," Came Cartman's hushed voice from the bed.

The blonde startled just a bit before turning to face Cartman who had Stan and Kyle leaning onto him from one side. They're asleep and curled up together under one of Cartman's arms. Kenny frowns, "Did you guys have sex without me?"

"Dude, first of all, gross," His nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought alone, "Second of all, they dragged me over- and lastly, can you open a window before I get thoroughly smoked out."

"Yeah, totally man," He perched himself on his chair to pop open the highest window. Cool air filtered in comfortably as he sat back and and returned to skinning his catch.

"I brought food,"

"I know,"

"You've been eating enough lately, right?"

"I've been living off of rabbits," Kenny gave a snort of laughter at the idiocy of Cartman's concern, "In all seriousness, definitely not, I usually have some berries in the spring."

Cartman went to move, and it drew a whine from both Kyle and Stan. He glares at Kenny, "You will not tell anyone of this."

"I won't," Kenny lied as he shucked sectionals of muscle from bone. It was a swift job, he had two piles on either side of the desk and another splash of blood on the one framed picture he had of his friends.

"You should come back to town sometime," Cartman said, what he didn't say was that he missed Kenny, that was implied.

"No can do," He reached for the pot always resting on the back of the wood stove. It had leftover broth from yesterdays meal, it was still good. He pulled it closer to the hottest part of the stove top before dropping in the bones to boil away the nutrients.

"You seriously don't wanna hit up the Peppermint Hippo with me?"

"I've moved on,"

"Sure you have, look at your walls, pinups as far as the eye can see," There's this shaming shake of the head.

"That's different!" He slid the meat into a separate bucket and sealed it shut.

Kenny defiantly left the room, hauling the bucket into the snow to keep the meat chilled. He hangs his jacket up above the wood stove to dry it off and leaves his boots at the door.

"Room for one more?"

Cartman shrugged, "It's your cabin," he still held out an arm for Kenny despite trying to be aloof.

That's more than enough incentive for Kenny to launch onto the bed which creaked in dismay at the unprecedented amount of weight. He pushed himself against Cartman's side and his friend tugged him even closer, resting his head against Kenny's.

"Dude," Kenny began, "This is-"

"Pretty gay? Just shut up or I'll leave you to deal with Stan and Kyle on your own," Cartman finished, threat to his tone despite how quietly he spoke.

"Alright," He hoisted himself up a bit more, to rest some of himself on Cartman, "If the bed breaks I'm blaming it on you."

And Cartman laughs, a single note, "Sure you will, I'll try and rake up enough cash to buy you a new one if it does."

"Thanks man,"

"You're welcome,"

"No like, for coming on up, I missed you guys,"

"You should come to town sometimes then,"

"Walk all the way there to just be disappointed by the fact that Karen is still stuck at home? I'll pass,"

Cartman pauses, "Still, you should come to town,"

"Wow man, you're so compassionate,"

"It's one of my more desirable traits,"

Kenny just curled up into Cartman a little bit more, hand rubbing his upper arm gently. He drifted off into a comfortable haze of half sleep pretty fast while pressed up against Cartman. He gently held onto Stan and Kyle, tugging them a bit closer despite his better judgement, thank god they're asleep.

"Love you bro," Came Kenny's sleepy words, "And Stan, 'n Kyle."

"They're asleep,"

#south park #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #south park fanfiction #stylennyman #if you so desire to read it as such #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw weed

[audi0med1c]

Chapter 1 of my new Modern AU idea I got from making a silly tik tok....this is a very angsty exes-to-lovers Modern Clexa AU...just a couple of stubborn idiots who can't get over their pride and ego's set to a backdrop of Taylor Swift references.

2,372 words

It's on both archive and wattpad, if you prefer to read it there

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

The absolute last thing Clarke wanted to see tonight on her rare chance to dine out was Lexa fucking Woods.

Lexa Woods, in her signature dark grey Armani suit.

On a date.

Before she could successfully grab her best friend's arm to duck out and choose another restaurant, those green eyes flick over and meet hers, as if she had been waiting on her to arrive.

"Shit you gotta be fucking kidding me." She hisses, earning a concerned look from the dark-haired girl just in front of her.

"What?" The girl says, looking Clarke up and down for something wrong.

"She's fucking HERE."

"Who is?" The girl says, turning to scan the dining room.

Clarke grabs her arm to stop her from turning, "No don't look don't-" but winces when it's clearly too late. Both of their eyes meet those green ones still locked onto them.

Lexa is holding a glass of red wine, and raises it slightly in their direction, shooting them her signature grin that Clarke would love to walk over and smack right off her annoyingly beautiful face.

"We can go somewhere else, Clarke, come on."

A flash goes off outside, as the first of what will eventually be many paparazzi snaps a picture through the restaurant's front window.

"No," Clarke says, "I'm not giving her that satisfaction."

They wait to be seated, and as the waitress is pouring their first glasses of wine the third member of their party arrives, fashionably late as always.

"Um since when do they seat VIPs off in the corner? Wasn't the reservation under Clarke Griffin? Your art is literally hanging in their lobby."

Clarke hates when Raven uses that term, as she never expects or cares about getting any sort of special treatment anywhere. Actually she'd prefer blending in and being invisible most of the time.  

"We aren't the only VIPs tonight." Clarke uses the term sarcastically, nodding her head in the direction over the girl's shoulder, "And I requested this table, so just sit Raven."

"Ohhhh damn what are the odds of that?" Raven chuckles, pulling out her seat and taking a long sip of wine, shooting a glance at the other girl with them.

"Octavia stop looking, Jesus." Clarke kicks the girl's shin under the table.

Clarke had asked for the table on the far side of the dining room, away from as much of the crowd as possible, and took the seat that kept Lexa mostly in her line of sight without having to turn her head and be obvious.

"She's still watching you." Octavia says, not even trying to hide looking over her shoulder at the pair behind them.

"Ugh ok maybe I can't fucking stay here." Clarke motions to their waitress.

Raven is typing on her phone under the table, which Octavia catches out of the corner of her eye.

Raven: You didn't think to tell me Lexa was coming here tonight???

The three dots hover in the bottom corner for what feels like forever.

Anya: How would I know that?!?! Wait who is she there with??

Raven: A blonde. A HOT blonde.

Anya: Oh god. Can't wait to hear about this when you get home.

Clarke catches Raven typing on her phone under the table, and then notices Lexa casually check her phone a few seconds later and shoot another grin in her direction.

"Really Rae?" Clarke says, annoyed, "Can you leave Anya out of this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl says not even trying to hide her smile. 

The waitress, a bubbly young girl with short bouncy auburn curls looks nervous when she approaches.

"Yes Ms. Griffin, are you ready to order?" Clarke is always sure to be overly nice to waitstaff, or any staff when she is out in public. She honestly hates most of the things that come with being so easily recognizable, particularly the stereotype of celebrities being entitled, petulant, or conceited. It's not something she intentionally sought, or even thought was possible when she pursued art full-time after college and found her own moderate success. Any level of celebrity status could never go to her head, as she will always be the small-town girl from the East Coast town of Polis, who grew up with next to nothing and never quite felt like she belonged in a place like L.A. to begin with.

But dating one of Hollywood's hottest A-listers will certainly put you on people's radar.

Clarke leans in towards the waitress, "Actually, we will take the check for the wine, I completely forgot about a previous commitment I need to get to, but can I order a bottle of Dom Perignon, for the table right over there before we go?" She motions with her head towards the table where Lexa is now very obviously pretending to laugh at whatever the bimbo across from her is saying.

"Of course, will that be all for you tonight?"

"Actually, if I give you an extra hundred dollars, will you relay a message when you bring over the bottle? A toast of sorts."

The two girls across from her are trying to keep a straight face, but watch wide-eyed as Clarke whispers something into the waitresses' ear, and hands over her Amex card.

The girl's face when she straightens up is a mix of nervous and giddy, understanding the context of the request.

The history of the two patrons was no secret – it had been front page of the tabloids for months after their very public, very messy breakup. Now it was just the simple annoyance of whatever bullshit spin came out of their occasional run-ins or when they attended the same events.

"I'll be right back." Clarke says, pushing back from the table to stand. 

"Wait where are you going?" Octavia calls after her.

"Bathroom." She replies over her shoulder, heading towards the hallway on the far end of the dining hall. She made sure to keep her eyes straight ahead as she walked past the brunette and her date nonchalantly, but the familiar aroma of Dior perfume crawled up her nostrils and she hated how good it smelled.

It reminded her of silk sheets and long nights, her hands sliding over hips and thighs and feeling the hot breath of whispered sighs.

Don't you dare. She thought to herself, shaking the memories from her head. 

She stared at herself a good long while in the bathroom, both expecting and dreading the door to open. When it doesn't, she touches up her red lipstick, adjusts herself in her skin-tight black cocktail dress so her already exposed cleavage is just a tad more on display, and heads back out to the dining room.

Her friends are already at the hostess stand, waiting for her before heading out past the now moderate amount of paparazzi that must have heard her and Lexa were spotted in public at the same place for the first time in months.

A small grin tugs at her lips as she passes the brunette's table, noting the new bottle of vintage champagne that sits opened with two glasses poured but not being touched, and a now slightly miffed date that shoots up an embarrassed look when she notices Clarke passing by.

Clarke bends over far more than necessary as she signs the bill left on the table, tipping an additional $50 on top of the $100 she promised because the look on the young girl's face was honestly better than she could have hoped for and collects her Amex card and heads to join her friends at the front when she hears a muffled voice from behind apologize and excuse themselves as they stand up from their table.

The warning looks on her friends' faces tell her to expect the hand that tugs her backwards as she reaches the hostess stand, pulling her to the side at the front of the restaurant.

The velvety scent of Dior wafts into her nose again, and those green eyes are much closer to her than they need to be, but she doesn't step back. At least not yet.

"Really Clarke?" Comes the expected reprimand, "Here's to the search for something greater? Classy."

"She's practically my clone." Clarke shrugs sharply.

Lexa remains unamused.

"Hardly, she's missing your signature....what is it..." Lexa dramatically gestures with her hand, searching for the right word... "Soul-sucking abrasiveness."

"Fuck off, Lexa."

"There's that mouth." Grinned the brunette.

"Bet you miss this mouth." Clarke shoots back.

Lexa's grin widens, "Actually yeah, just had a dream about it the other night."

"You dream of my mouth before or after it called you a lying traitor?"

Lexa takes a slight step closer to the blonde, ignoring the camera flashes going off outside the front window.

"You've called me worse." She utters smugly.

"I said fuck off Lex."

"Or you could fuck me yourself."

Clarke tries not to show how caught off-guard she is by the quick retort, and especially tries to hide how flustered she suddenly is. She leans into her annoyance at the brazen overconfidence.

"Pretty sure it's the only way you'd be getting fucked tonight...I know a pillow princess when I see one, and THAT," she nods her head back in the direction of Lexa's table and abandoned date, who's now anxiously sipping on her wine, trying not to be obvious at her constant glances towards the pair at the front of the restaurant, "That right there is a girl who is here for the free dinner, the free drinks, and the free orgasms after and that's it."

"Make me a better offer then." Lexa smiles as she tries to step even closer, but Clarke pushes back with a hand up at the girl's shoulder that was now inches away from her.

"There is no offer. I'm surprised you haven't run out of blonde models by now anyway, so enjoy however many you have left before you have to slum it with some brunettes."

"Heyyyyy!!" Raven and Octavia chime from the door, pretending to be offended. Both had been inching closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"You never run out of blonde models in LA." Lexa shrugs, "But I don't even know her. I'm just doing my agent a favor, and she's who suggested coming here. What was I supposed to do say 'no actually this was my ex's favorite place and she might possibly be here on this one random Wednesday night?'"

"Sure why not?"

Lexa rolls her eyes, "Are we jealous Clarkey?"

"WE...aren't anything." Clarke snaps motioning between the two of them.

"Well WE..." Lexa gestures back towards her table, "Aren't anything either...so can you drop the hostility?"

Clarke muses over the girl at the table, "Blue eyes, that's enough for at least a few dates by your standards."

"You're practically insulting yourself at this point you know..." Lexa huffs amusingly. She was having way too much fun getting a rise out of Clarke. The blonde purses her lips, her eyes dropping down to the plush lips in front of her quickly but not quick enough, because Lexa catches it and takes her bottom lip between her teeth, dropping her own eyes to Clarke's lips for a prolonged moment before bringing them back up to meet blue eyes.

"Can I go now?" Clarke says annoyed, "Your date is waiting."

"She can stay waiting." Lexa breathes as she dares reach a hand around Clarke's lower back, but the blonde is quick to swat her away and step backwards.

"This is not happening...."

"Again." Lexa adds with a smirk.

Clarke rolls her eyes.

"This is not happening again." She corrects. The last time she showed up at Lexa's penthouse she had convinced herself was only out of convenience. It had been a while since she'd gotten laid and the thought of meaningless small talk with a stranger or worse, someone she'd have to face again at work or in some overlapping social circle was too much of a headache. So when she ran into Lexa at a nightclub nearby and got a simple text at bar close saying "Damn Griffin, I know you wore that dress tonight just so I could take it off you.  Door is unlocked."  She figured it technically wasn't much different than any other one-night stand.

Right?

But in this moment she regrets having fed into the already overinflated ego that is Lexa Woods: Actress, musician, and professional flirt.

She will deal with the heat between her thighs and knot forming in her lower stomach later. If not with whatever name responds first when she leaves here, then with one of her many battery-powered friends in her nightstand.

"Whatever you say, Clarke." The brunette finally scoffs nonchalantly, and with one final lick of her lips, Lexa gives one more intentional glance down at Clarke's mouth before turning to head back into the dining hall, making a show of her return to her table by reaching for the waiting girl's hand and placing a quick kiss on the back of it before taking her seat again and lifting her champagne glass to cheers.

"Damn Clarke I'm impressed... I would have folded." Raven admits, opening the door as they rush out to a waiting town car, flashes immediately going off as soon as they are outside.

"Clarke! Clarke!" A few of the photographers try to get her attention, but she puts a hand up to try and block her face as Octavia gets the car door open.

"Clarke! How do you feel about Lexa bringing a date to your guys' spot?"

"Clarke what did Lexa say to you before you left?"

"Do you enjoy getting paid to harass people?" Raven harps at the small crowd as she follows Clarke and Octavia into the back seat.

Once the door is closed and they pull away, Clarke sighs, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

"Well if you want her, have at it." She says almost dejectedly. "I told you, it's over between us."

Raven and Octavia exchange a quick glance before Raven squeaks out a response, cocking her head inquisitively.

"I mean.... is it really over now?" 

#clexa #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #clexa fandom #clexa fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #angsty #exes to lovers #these stubborn idiots #clexa au #fanfiction #the 100 clexa

[mmyriapoda]

Sirs

#there's been a break in!!! security!!! #pictures i took hanging out the window like a fucking idiot #>disclaimer pls dont lecture me abt indoor cats i KNOW but i live w/ someone who refuses to stop letting them out

[absolutepokemontrash]

I come bearing a request! The Brothers with an MC who's really good at cooking and baking? Like, the stuff food blogs dream of. Master-level instagram pastries. Could compete with the chocolate guy if they put their mind to it.

👀 ooooo, I do love me some pastries-

(I know you have an *ahem* distaste for Lucifer, dear moot, so enjoy Lucifer acting like a bit of a dingus in his section!)

Lucifer

Oh, the human can cook. *insert asshole eyeroll here*. Great. Wonderful. Groundbreaking. That’s what’s got all his brothers acting like- what was that word Levi used? Simps? This human has turned six of the seven rulers of hell into a bunch of simps.

Sure, the human has near godlike cooking prowess. Sure, everyone looks forward to their day for cooking. And sure, everyone thinks the human’s pretty great.

Tsk, not him though. He’s a refined demon. Some silly food isn’t going to make him a lovesick fool… did he smell eclairs..?

Lucifer peered into the kitchen to see MC carefully taking a tray of eclairs out of the oven and letting them cool off on the counter. His favourite dessert… right there in front of him…

Due to not being a total moron, MC notices Lucifer and asks him what the hell he’s doing just standing ominously in the doorway. Lucifer makes up some bullshit excuse about reminding MC to do their homework and just leaves. Okay, game plan, he needs those fucking eclairs or he will spontaneously combust.

As he snuck into the kitchen that night, Lucifer took a moment to briefly wonder why he was creeping around his own house. He was the Avatar of Pride for pity’s sake! He could eat whatever he damn well pleased! Oh shit was someone coming- no? Okay, back to sneaking.

Lucifer crept into the kitchen, saw the eclairs, and all logic was thrown out the window. Time to eat!

“BEEL NO! NOT THE- Lucifer..?” “…” “…” “…you’re very talented, MC, do you mind making more of these?”

SOMEONE SNAP A PICTURE! THIS IS THE CLOSEST LUCIFER HAS GOTTEN TO BEGGING IN THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!

Mammon

Ugh, stuck babysittin’ some dumb human, how lame…

As Mammon was throwing a “I’m broke and I’m stuck in a pact with a dumb human” pity party, the most heavenly smell entered his nostrils. Cooking… good cooking… was Barbatos visiting or somethin’? Nah, Lucifer woulda made a big fuss about gettin’ ready for Lord Diavolo. Huh, so what was goin’ on in the kitchen?

Huh? The human? The human can cook? Well damn, maybe this whole deal wouldn’t be so bad. Oi! MC! As payment for babysittin’ ‘em, he got to have an extra big share of- OW!

Did- did the human just hit him with a spoon?! Th-they can’t do that!

Apparently they fucking can. Mammon gets told to sit the fuck down and wait for the food like everyone else. He grumbles on the way to the dining room, but he can’t fully hide his excitement to try the food.

The food even looked pretty! How did they do that?! Magic. It had to be!

After everyone’s tastebuds were blessed with the heavenly substance that is MC’s culinary exploits, Mammon decides he needs to get on this human’s good side in order to receive more food! Maybe even find some way to make a profit or somethin’!

After weeks go by of trying to suck up to the human without looking like too much of a chump, Mammon eventually realizes… hey, this human ain’t so bad. They’re nice, they make him feel good about himself, they give him headpats… he’s really hit the jackpot here!

He’ll offer to help MC bake or cook, but beware, he will try and sample the food before it’s done. Don’t let him lick the spoon!!!

Leviathan

First thought? This human ain’t shit. Thought after seeing their food? WOAAAAAAAH! JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME-

He was unceremoniously cut off by Beel asking demanding seconds. Humph, fine, he doesn’t actually care about this dumb normie food anyway.

…well at least until Levi saw a little something something on TV that he just had to ask MC to try and make. He shyly knocked on their door and when they answered, Levi shoved the screenshot in their face and stuttered out a dinner request.

On the day MC was supposed to make dinner, Levi poked his head into the kitchen and tried to make it look like he was just standing in the same room as MC and not checking to see if they were making his dinner request.

Not that he’d blame them for not doing that… who’d wanna make some anime dinner for a yucky Otaku- OMG JAHSHSHABA THEY’RE MAKING IT! *fangirl squeals*

As Levi continues to commit the SIN of being in the kitchen at the same time as someone else, MC eventually just asks him if he’d like to help out.

“Here! Just keep turning the takoyaki.” “R-really? You trust me?” “Yes, Levi. You watched how they made it on your show, right?” “Yes! I won’t mess up! I swear on my honour as an otaku!”

All in all, it was a very cute bonding experience for the two. Now it’s a regular thing. Levi requests something for dinner or dessert, MC makes it, Levi helps out.

Satan

So, the human can cook. That’s nice. At least someone in this literally god forsaken house can.

He makes sure to thank MC every time they cook, then he makes sure to thank whatever deity is watching over him that Solomon wasn’t the human staying with them.

As the months progress, Satan realizes, he should learn how to cook better. I mean, Levi and Mammon were somehow both improving in their cooking endeavours, and if MC could teach those two, then he would be a breeze.

Satan walked into the kitchen and simply asked if MC needed any assistance with what they were doing. MC just slid him some garlic to dice and that’s how this mentor/student relationship was formed.

Satan was a star pupil, but Mammon and Levi weren’t above trying to sabotage Satan’s progress to get him to leave.

Here’s the thing, the sabotage worked, but it only worked once, and the two idiots didn’t stop to think that maybe they shouldn’t sabotage the meal they were going to have to eat later.

Well, cooking lessons continued uninterrupted after the ghost pepper incident…

Even when he’s ‘graduated’ their little cooking class, Satan’s always willing to lend a hand if needed. He also will slyly hand over some recipe books and cute baking supplies that he finds. MC should be prepared for lots of cat related things to come their way.

Asmodeus

The human can cook? Oh frabcious day! He’s saved from a life of his brother’s mediocre cooking! And the human’s so cute too! What a bonus!

Not only is the human cute, but their food is just so… aesthetic??? Pretty???? Omigosh he just has to get a picture for Devilgram!

For the first few months, MC’s relationship with Asmo consists of Asmo not at all subtly asking to take pictures of their food and post it to his Devilgram. Listen MC, his followers would just love it!

Being the saint-sheep they are, MC lets Asmo sit in whenever they’re making anything in the kitchen. And Asmo slowly realizes “hey, this cute human with the awesome food is actually pretty cool too!”

New Mission: Make the human fall madly in love with him so they’ll want to hang out more.

Whether the mission succeeds is up to MC of course. (I mean, I’m already smitten with him sooooooooo-)

MC offers Asmo a lot of the pastries they make, but the Avatar of Lust almost always declines. Listen honey, he’s on a diet- wait, don’t make that sad face! He’ll eat it! Look! It’s- it’s delicious…

Diet cheat day is now every day MC makes dessert. The feeling of bliss Asmo gets when he takes a bite out of anything MC makes is only second of the treats is second only to the joy he feels at seeing MC happy that he likes their food. It’s just so wholesome I can’t-

MC’s food Devilgram has almost surpassed Asmo in terms of followers and honestly- he isn’t even mad.

Beelzebub

Gasp! Lucifer finally got him the pet personal chef he’d always wanted! Thanks big bro! :D he’ll be sure not to eat this human!

On the first night MC was supposed to make dinner, Lucifer needed to hold Beel back from breaking into the kitchen to see what was causing that heavenly smell. It was, difficult… especially because Lucifer hadn’t slept in three days.

When they all sat down to eat, Beel practically inhaled everything and held up his half bitten plate for seconds.

We here at Stupid Headcanons incorporated recommend that MC have as many bodyguards as possible stationed around the kitchen at all times to ward off a hungry Beel. We don’t want him eating the ingredients and half-tempered chocolate.

A cinnamon roll through and through, he’ll eat everything MC gives him with a big ol’ smile on his cute little face. He’s not the best person to go to if MC wants advice or critique because the best thing Beel can usually muster is “it was really good.”

As Luke said in Lesson 5, Beel would make an awful food reporter. But we love him.

Similar to Levi, he’ll give meal requests on what to make for dinner. (At this rate, MC’s going to have to make some kind of list).

He kind of just waits by the door like a sad puppy whenever MC is making anything because he can’t get into the kitchen :(

Belphegor

The smell of freshly made chocolate chip cookies wafting through the house did reach the attic and it only fuelled his rage more. How dare the human win everyone over with cookies?!

After the attic incident, Belphie was won over with cookies.

Belphie just stands creepily in the kitchen doorway whenever MC is making anything and just makes shit really uncomfortable. Why’s he doing that, you may be wondering, well, he’s trying to calculate the energy needed to swipe the bowl of cookie dough and sprint to safety.

He never succeeds, mainly because once he gets to the bowl, MC already has the wooden spoon ready to smack him, so he just freezes mid-theft and slowly puts the bowl down.

“Oh my gosh, it says let the bread dough rest overnight? Let’s get a headstart and go to sleep now.” “Belphie what-” “I made a pillow Fort, come in. Let’s sleep.” “In the kitchen????”

How’d he make the pillow Fort without MC noticing? Years of experience. He’s trained in the art of- MC? What do you mean you can’t sleep right now and you need to get a head start on shaping fondant?

…he may have eaten the fondant while MC wasn’t looking… whoops… Beel may have rubbed off on him a little…

#Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me Headcanons #obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me mammon #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

#bnharem collab #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #lilliths masterlist #lillith writes

[multifandhoem]

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #server collab #haikyuuhq #multifandhoem #seijoh #oikawa #oikawa tooru #wedding #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #aoba johsai #iwaizumi steamy #steamy

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

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[akaashioppa]

11:00pm

pairings: Mikey x reader 

summary: Sneaking out of you house with Mikey has always been a tradition of yours. You would always call it late date night...well not until you finally got caught.

warnings: curse words, arguing with your fictional dad. fluffy then angsty

w/c: 2.7k

Masterlist

“You got to hurry before I get caught, Mikey!”

“So what? I wouldn’t mind it.”

You were hanging from your bedroom’s balcony, Mikey was underneath you trying to brace your fall. He had his long tan arms in the air motioning for you to jump in them. After all the thousands of times, you did this it was still rocky. You and Mikey haven’t perfected the routine yet. You would think the more you snuck out of your own house you would have perfected it by now.

“Just jump baby…”

“We’re six feet in the air!” You shrieked out, You had your back facing him. Your attention was constantly going back and forth from Mickey and your bedroom door. The house was big enough that no one could hear what was going on but your older brother had a habit of coming into your room unannounced.

“I got you. Have I ever let you fall before?”

You thought back on the times that you were together. Not once has he ever put you in danger...well not intentionally but he would always protect you. You are always left unscathed from dangerous situations. “Okay, I’m letting go..” The cold feeling of the rail left your embrace, your feet were no longer planted on the other side of the balcony. You were free-falling six feet in the air. Your eyes remained closed until you felt his muscular arms around your body.

“I told you that I got you.” You opened your eyes to see his soulless black eyes that you admired so much. That iconic smirk that you loved was as well. ‘Why is he so perfect?’

“Come on, we’ll be late.”

After gracefully putting you on your feet, you both ran in the direction of his bike. It was too loud for him to pull in your driveway so he tends to park down the street so your parents wouldn’t awake from his engine roaring.

Mikey helped you onto his CB205T. It was his favorite bike out of all of them. This was the only bike of his that he would never let you drive. You would beg him to let  you drive it but he would say ‘I don’t want you getting hurt.’ You rolled your eyes at the thought.

He placed his old helmet on your head, tying it tightly, he gave you a small pat on the head. You smiled sweetly back at him, he was so cute and kind. It was the small gestures that he did that made you fall even more in love with him.

Mikey sped off towards the destination. He never told you where you were going, he only said get ready by 11 pm and don’t ask any further questions. Lately, this has been a recurring event, Mikey has made it your thing. He’d pick you up, drive around on his bike for a few minutes so you both could see the city lights then he would take you somewhere random. It always ends up being the best night of your life. 

“Hey, we’re here.” You lifted your head from his shoulders blades, It was your way of keeping things from flying into your eyeballs. You were in an abandoned parking lot which was odd, there was no human activity, barely any street lights, however, there was a great view from where you stood. This abandoned parking lot was above a cliff, it leads out to the city of Tokyo.

“Wow, this is amazing.” 

“I found it and thought you would like it. You can see everything from this view. If you look towards the right you can see the cherry blossom trees. They’re in season.”

“Really!?” You took a look towards the right, there were rows of cherry blossom trees lined up with small humans taking pictures. A river not too far away from the trees, it was filled with the petals of the cherry blossoms. “That’s so freaking beautiful. How could such an anti romantic be romantic?”

You caught him rolling his eyes, he threw a quick yet soft jab in your ribs. 

“You’re annoying,” he muttered out. Although it came out dry you knew he would never call you that intentionally. 

“You love me don’t ya.”

You grinned from ear to ear waiting for him to acknowledge what you said. The thing is he didn’t, he kept his attention on the people down below. This didn’t stop you from cheesing like an idiot though. 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes simultaneously. You wouldn’t allow that grin to disappear. You kept it on your face even when Mikey turned to look at you.  “If I say yes will you stop teasing me?”

“Nope.”He reached out grabbing you around your waist. He swung you around making your legs swing in every other direction. You begged him to stop. The amount of laughter that you were crying out helped make a cramping sensation in your stomach.

He finally put you down after spinning you around. After calming down for your “game” You both walked back to the edge watching the cherry blossom trees.

You placed your head on his shoulder, his arms snake around your waist pulling you in closer. You didn’t retreat, you only placed your hands around his neck. “Hey, don’t you think it’s crazy how many people live in our city? Out of all those people I managed to find you.” You mumbled into his neck.

“That was so cheesy.” He snorted out,  he ruined the moment which earned him a jab in the ribs. “Wait here me out. Maybe it’s the university trying to tell us something.”

“What if it’s just a phase? Who says we won’t grow apart?”

You felt him squeeze you tighter against him, “Then we’ll just grow apart. If it’s meant to be, we'll see each other again.” 

There was a silence cast around you two. Mikey released you from his grasp, You leaned over the railing to take in the view. Everything was going so well tonight. You felt Mikey’s arms wrapping around your waist again, he turned you around so you were both facing each other. That cheeky smile that he always wore was evidence that he was happy, he was living in the moment right along with you.  An outburst of laughter erupted from both of your lips, you still were in each other arms but you couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that I’m in love with someone. How bizarre is that?”

“I lo-”

Your sentence was cut short, the vibration in your pants pocket made all of the blood drain from your face. You reached down to pull out your phone, the screen read ‘dad’. You didn’t answer it, you only let it ring.

“Fuck! I have to go home. We have to go now!”

Mikey stood there with a blank expression on his face, you snapped your fingers in his face to get his attention, shoving your face in his phone to see who called you. 

“What’s going on? Who was that?”

He grabbed your phone from your hand so he could get a clear look at your screen. By you shoving the phone in his face he could barely see the name on the screen. The only thing he did was say “oh” and left it like that. He shoved his hands in his pockets with a nonchalant attitude.

“Why are you just standing there!? Come on Mikey!”

You tried pushing him towards his bike, he only stood there holding his ground. His hands were still in his pockets as he did you. 

He sighed, “What’s the difference? You’re already out past your curfew, what's a little more hours.”

“Are you crazy!” You screeched, “It was my dad! We have to go!”

For the second time of the night, a cast of silence was between you two. The only thing that was heard was your heavy breathing from yelling at him and the traffic from down below. Mikey still had that blank expression on his face until he smiled.

“It was a joke. Come on, I'll get you home.”

“Manjiro Sano!!”

Mikey grabbed your hand making your entire body jerk forward, “You better hurry before you’re late.” His laughter filled the air, it made you feel a little better. Mikey helped you get safely on his bike before doing the same with himself. He let the engine pur twice making your heart beat along with the engine.

“You ready?” He looked back at you with a smirk on his face. He licked his lips a little before making his engine roar a little.

“Yeah.”

He sped off into the night dodging cars nearly crashing into them. Mikey was a great driver and very cautious. He just tends to get wild at times. Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re on the back of his bike. He’s always zoned out when he drives, it’s like he was in his own little world. 

It didn’t take long for you to get home. The word speed limit was not in Mikey’s dictionary. Mikey turned off the engine of his bike. You were down the street from your house, you could clearly see the light in the living room. You cursed silently under your breath, “I’m so screwed.”

“Just climb into your bedroom window and pretend to be asleep. If he asks why you didn't pick up your phone, say that you were asleep.”

“Okay, what if that doesn’t work?”

He glanced back at you with determination in his eyes, “Then call me.”

“Yeah, I like the first option better.”

Mikey stood back watching you as you ran in the direction of your house. You ran to your window just staring at it. It was six feet in the air so your only option was to climb the tree and somehow jump from the tree to your balcony. 

You began to climb the big oak tree in your yard. Mikey tried to help you from down below. He stood there with his hands on his hips smiling up at you. “How’s it going up there?”

“Well you know I’m just hanging around.”

You both cracked up at your corny joke.

The only thing left to do was put your foot on the balcony while balancing yourself on the tree. Mikey stood down below with the same stance, he was making sure that you did not fall. You silently counted in your head before throwing yourself onto your balcony. You tumbled a little, some bruising was definitely going to be there in the morning.

“Did you make it!?”

You used the wooden poles on your balcony to help you pull yourself up. Mickey was still down below but now hiding behind the big oak tree. You gave him a thumbs up, he smiled back in return, running leaving you behind with the situation up ahead.

“Welcome back” You didn’t even take a step into your room and your dad had already slid the door open scaring you half to death. He slid the balcony door open further allowing you to come into the room. “Why didn’t you tell your boyfriend to come in for a snack?”

You made your way to your bed wishing that you could shrink down into a little ball. The sarcasm in his voice didn’t make it any better. Your dad was pissed, the vein that was protruding from the side of his forehead looked like it was going to pop. 

“Uhh, he’s shy.” You gave your dad a dry chuckle but stopped when he shot you an ugly glare. He sat down in the chair in front of your bed with one of his legs over the other and one of his hands pressed against his forehead.

“How did you guys meet!?”

“At school dad.” You mumbled, he was already starting to yell. 

“How!? I sent you to a private school.”

You almost laughed in your dad’s face, the memory of meeting Mikey was always funny. It was a running joke in your relationship. 

“Well, Mikey came into our classroom to fight our teacher. BUT! He had a good reason. Mikey was driving his bike when Toka-san almost ran him off the road. Mikey followed him to school and beat the living shit out of him. I thought it was hot so I approached him and the rest is history.”  

“What’s the matter with you?” He shot out of his chair waving his arms in the air. “Why would you want to date someone like that!? You’re an (L/N), live up to that name. Don’t be a fucking disappointment.”

You scoffed at your dad. This time you made it audible for not only him to hear but anyone else that is listening. “Dad, that's rude!”

“I don’t want you ever classifying yourself as one of them. He’s a delinquent, a gangster, you have more class than that. You can find someone better than him. I will not have my daughter running around here with a delinquent.”

“He’s not a delinquent!”

“Then what is he!?”

You ignored his question. You didn’t want to answer it. You knew that Mikey classified himself as that but to you, he was much more than what people portrayed him to be. These fucking millennials and their biased opinions. You were not going to let him bash your boyfriend and get away with it.

“He’s Mickey Sano. You shouted, you jumped off of your bed so now you were facing your dad eye to eye. “He’s much more than a delinquent or a gangster. He’s a human being so start treating him like one. Oh and if you’re going to label him at least label him right. He’s much more than a delinquent, he’s actually smarter than what you make him out to be.” 

Your dad sat back down in his chair. This allowed you to look down on him but then it hit you. You were never this confident, You...standing up to your dad. Just wait until Mikey here’s about this. All of those conversations about boosting your confidence have paid off. 

“Yeah alright keep believing that. He’s only here for one thing and one thing only (Y/N). Once he gets that he’s out of here.”

Jokes on you he’s already got it and look, he’s still here.

You didn’t say that to your dad, you knew he would only blow up in your face more. Then lecture would then cause your entire family to get dragged in. He would go on a manhunt to find Mikey and “kill him.

“Okay, dad, whatever you say.”

You grew tired of all of this back and forth with him. You weren’t going to argue with him anymore, so you sat down on your bed awaiting the next thing he had to say.

“If I catch you out with him again I’ll treat you like a real princess and lock your ass up here for the rest of your life.

You scoffed out loud for him to hear, the vein in his forehead was now back more evident than before.

“I knew I was going to get in trouble but dad, punishments are temporary, memories are forever. So while I’m grounded I’ll be thinking about how good he has been to me while you have been treating me like trash.”

“That’s it you are grounded until next summer.”

“Okay, dad.” You mocked out.

 “One more thing if I catch that Mickey, Micheal-” You cut him off, “Mikey, his name is Mikey.” 

Your dad rolled his eyes, he walked to the door opening it. Half of his body was already outside of the room. You were wishing he would just put his whole body out there and leave you alone.

“If I see that Mikey boy around here again I’m calling the cops.” Your dad stood there for a second before closing the door. Once alone you throw your head in your pillows.“Snitch.” You mumbled.

He came back into the room with an irritated look on his face. His eyebrows were so close together it looked like they were about to merge. “What did you say?”

You tried your best to keep your laughter at bay but you couldn’t help yourself. “Nothing.” You snorted out. He stood there with the same expression, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You were about to burst out in a laugh. You waited for your dad to leave the room so you could laugh at the way he looked at you after you called him a snitch.

#mikey tokyo revengers #mikey sano #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro #sano mikey #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers mikey #mikey imagines #mikey fluff #mikey sano fluff #mikey fanfic #mikey fanfiction #tokyo manji gang #mikey angst #manjirou sano x reader #majiro sano x reader #manjiro x reader

[shelobussy]

How would you say Kris and Noelle's first kiss go?

Kris and Noelle are at the autumn festival when they have their first kiss.

Or wait, no, their first kiss is in kindergarten, on the playground. Berdly made Noelle cry and Kris pushed him and got in trouble and after school she gave them a quick peck on the lips and took off, embarrassed.

Their first real kiss happens during the autumn festival.

Being raised in a town that was mainly populated by monsters, Kris had never had the opportunity to celebrate halloween, but they hear its similar to the autumn festival.

People dress up, eat candy, go bobbing for apples, play pranks. It's a good time.

Susie has ideas this year.

"Dude, we should totally go as ourselves," she says, a few weeks before the festival. She's sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone lazily. Kris is trying to do their homework, but her constant snorts and laughs from whether she's texting Lancer about is a bit distracting.

They don't mind though. It's nice to have someone to waste time with.

Kris glances up, question written in their eyes.

Susie, used to reading Kris when they go nonverbal now, rolls over so she's lying on her stomach.

"You know. As like us us. From you know."

Kris rolls their eyes.

"Ugh, us from the dark kingdom, dipshit."

They offer her a deadpan look.

"Well if you knew what I meant why didn't you say so?"

Kris turns back to their assignment.

"Petty bitch. Are you down or not?"

And so Kris found themselves dressed in a fairly accurate replica of their own armor, nibbling on buttered pumpkin bread and trailing after Susie and Lancer and wishing Ralsei was here.

Kris understands that ruling the Dark Kingdom came with many responsibilities, but it didn't make them any less unhappy about it.

So Kris is being carted from stand to stand, watching bemusedly as Lancer and Susie try to out eat each other with every choice of food, when they come upon Noelle.

She looks lovely, as she always does, and it seems that Susie has convinced her to dress as her own Dark Kingdom counterpart, white robe and all. She beams at them all, and immediately sticks herself to Kris's side.

They all go on rides together and check out the haunted house and prank Berdly and it's the most fun Kris has had in forever.

The end of the night brings the hayride, which Susie and Lancer think is boring, so Kris agrees to go with Noelle because otherwise Berdly's gonna try and sit next to her and Noelle insist she'd rather have Kris.

Kris isn't sure if Noelle wants to hang out with them or just really hates Berdly, but they agree.

Full harvest moon and sipping apple cider, the two of them find their own corner of the wagon to pair off in. The ride is bumpy and the other teenagers are loud, but Noelle is pressed up against their shoulder and she smells like cinnamon and the apple cider she's drinking, so Kris doesn't mind.

One of the horses pulling the wagon freaks out a bit, and Kris gets dislodged and falls into Noelle's lap. They're still kind of...just there by the time the horse calms down, but now it's Kris freaking out because they're always awkward and weird around Noelle, and this definitely the most awkward and weird thing to happen in a while, but Noelle just giggles and suddenly presses a quick kiss to the tip of their nose and Kris-

Kris fucking blushes and lets out the most humiliating high pitched noise that attracts everyone's attention and then Noelle is blushing and the whole way back they aren't talking, aren't looking at each other, just sitting there in embarrassed silence.

But that wasn't a real kiss, no, the real kiss happens later when Kris and Noelle are waiting for their parents to pick them up and Susie and Lancer have already gone home. They're waiting on the curb, bags of candy in their hands and avoiding eye contact when Noelle suddenly apologizes.

"You're not mad at me right?" she says after, looking miserable. "I wasn't thinking, I just-I thought you were cute and-oh no I'm making it worse-"

Kris doesn't think they can blush harder than they are right now, it feels like their entire face is on fire and Noelle looks just as flustered, and Kris's mind is caught on an endless loop of I just thought you were cute and then suddenly they're throwing all caution into the wind and going for it as they stand up on tiptoe and press a gentle kiss onto Noelle's lips.

Noelle lets out a flustered squeak and Kris pulls away, absolutely sure that they just made things worse, but then Noelle leans in and they're really kissing and sure it's awkward, but Noelle and Kris are awkward so it's actually kind of normal for them, kind of nice, kind of something Kris wouldn't mind doing regularly.

Noelle's mom shows up and herds (ha) Noelle into the car, casting the two of them knowing looks. Noelle blushes one more time and says well, see you at school tomorrow just before she rolls the window up.

Kris sits on the corner for a couple of minutes, face still red. Their phone dings and they pull it out and it's from Susie. Attached is a picture of Kris and Noelle-

Kris whirls around and Lancer and Susie are there, grinning like idiots and Susie is saying things about Lancer owing them money and throwing halfhearted apologies at Kris about how they didn't exactly mean to spy on them, they were going to prank them but then Noelle and Kris got all gross and smoochy and Kris-

Well, they're feeling kind of warm inside, so they're letting this one go just this once.

Just this once though. And only because Noelle had looked so adorable when she said see you at school tomorrow and then looked away still blushing.

As far as first kisses went, Kris thinks they're doing pretty good.

#oop i did a fic #kriselle #kris dreemurr #noelle holiday #deltarune #my fic

[spiltscribbles]

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

.-

SEND ME A PROMPT  |  A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

.-

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam. 

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out. 

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad. 

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel 

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover 

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

.-

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

.-

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink  like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair. 

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.” 

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words. 

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other. 

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think  that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

.-

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR ANGST #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #SPILT INK #I AM A MESS #I HATE ME LMFAO

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#i don't love this but here it is!!! #one day i'll like the stories i write #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #sour

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

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

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 |  Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards.  And the press are having a field day.  Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt.  An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning.  Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem.  All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

-

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

-

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

-

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

-

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

[bethansfandoms]

Could u maybe write a prompt from Sirius perspective, where he’s head over heels in love with remus, but isn’t sure how to tell him so he talks to Minnie/euphemia/poppy and thy help him, he confesses his feelings and then they are dating:))

Sirius, alcohol in hand, walked into the Potter’s kitchen. It was a warm summers evening and Remus, James, and Peter were already outside and had a small fire going at the bottom of the garden. The last remaining moments of sunlight painted the whole kitchen golden.

He padded through the room, only stopping when he caught sight of Euphemia Potter standing at the sink in front of the large window that overlooked the lawn. 

“Euphemia, what are you doing?” Sirius asked, smiling. Euphemia jumped a little at his voice before placing a plate back into the sink.

“Washing up,” she replied, cheerfully.

“But... can’t you just use magic?”

She scoffed, “Typical wizard. I could also ask my house elf to do it. I just think it’s nice to do things the muggle way sometimes, no? Gives you time to think.”

Sirius shrugged and placed the firewhisky on the table before grabbing a tea towel. “I’ll help.”

“Well, you’ve only been moved in for a year and you’ve already offered to do more housework than James ever has.”

Sirius laughed and looked out the window to where James was lounging at the end of the garden. Then, his eyes drifted to the person they always seemed to drift to.

Remus was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and the golden sunlight caught his hair making it seemingly glow. Sirius obviously couldn’t tell from this distance but he could picture the way Remus looked in this light. His skin soft and eyes bright and smile wide. He shook his head and got back to drying up.

“I can’t believe James is head boy as of September,” Euphemia muttered.

Sirius grinned, “It was a shock to us all. Gave him an excuse to write to Lily though, didn’t it?”

“Ah, yes. He’s very serious about her, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he is. They’ll be a good head boy and girl.”

“And how about you, Sirius?” Euphemia asked, smiling, “Come on, I’m your mother now it’s my job to embarrass you.”

Sirius couldn’t stop the grin at the idea of Euphemia being his mother. “Oh, uh, I’m not dating anyone, if that’s what you mean.”

“Is there anyone you’d like to? Come on, humor me.”

Sirius’ eyes flitted back up to the window where he could see Remus with his head thrown back, laughing. “Maybe. But I don’t know how to tell him. Her,” he corrected quickly, “bugger, I meant...”

Euphemia put the mug she was cleaning back into the sink and turned to face him. “It’s okay, Sirius, you can tell me about... him?”

“Him,” Sirius confirmed, sighing. “Crap. I didn’t meant to—James, Peter, and Remus don’t know yet. I don’t know how to tell them.”

“If you can’t talk to them about this boy, why don’t you talk to me, hm? Get it off your chest.”

Sirius abandoned the drying up all together and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s just... there’s nobody else I’ve ever... he’s so caring,” Sirius settled on. “He’s just so kind and so forgiving and so quick to help anybody if they need it. And he’s smart and funny and beautiful and he’s just the person I think about all the time. And I can’t tell him.”

“Oh, Sirius,” Euphemia said sympathetically, “I think you should. I think you should tell him exactly what you just told me, hm?”

“He’s not... he doesn’t like me like that. He’ll get embarrassed and then it’ll be weird and our friendship will be over just because I couldn’t get a grip.”

“Is Remus really the sort of person who would stop being friends with you over something like that?”

“Well, no, but—hang on. You know it’s Remus?”

“Oh, uh, well I just assumed... was that wrong of me?”

“No. Ugh. Am I that obvious? Do you think he knows too and hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t feel the same way or—”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. No I don’t think that.”

Sirius flushed. “The way he looks at me? What way is that?”

“The same way you look at him. Tell him, Sirius. You’ll be mad at yourself forever if you don’t.”

Sirius shrugged and picked the firewhisky back up from the table. “Maybe.”

He walked to the end of the garden and was greeted with cheers as he brandished the alcohol. His head was full of confused emotions and he took a swig of the drink to try and bury them.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked, softly as Sirius passed the bottle over to James and Peter. “You look down.”

Sirius felt his heart flop. “I’m fine, really. Just had a talk with Euphemia about some stuff, got a bit heavy I guess.”

“Talk to me if you need to, yeah?” Sirius didn’t get a chance to reply as James suddenly suggested a drinking game they should play and dived into explaining the rules. Sirius spent the whole time watching the way the fire and the setting sun made Remus’ features all soft and golden.

You’ll be mad at yourself forever if you don’t. Euphemia’s words were swimming around his head. He was a little drunk and had volunteered to clear everything away while James and Peter got ready for bed because Remus had offered as well.

They were alone and the sun had long since set and Sirius would be mad at himself forever if he didn’t say something now.

“You know how you said I could talk to you,” Sirius said, quickly as to get the words out before he could stop himself “I’m ready to cash that in.”

Remus poked the dying embers of the fire a final time and smiled, “Of course. What’s up?”

“There’s... it’s...” Sirius wrung his hands and sighed. “Fuck. This is hard. I’m worried you’ll be upset with me.”

Remus’ brow furrowed in concern. “Sirius, nothing you say is going to make me upset.”

“Really?” and because he was drunk, the words came spilling out. “Remus, I’m in love with you. Do you see, now? Do you see why I thought you’d be upset? I accidentally told Euphemia and she said I’d regret it if I didn’t say anything but now I’m starting to think my biggest regret is actually saying it because it’ll ruin—”

“Sirius,” Remus said, cutting him off. “Uh, in answer to your question, no, I don’t see why you thought I’d be upset about that.”

“What? Why? Because—”

“Because I’m in love with you too, idiot.”

Sirius just blinked at him. “Really? Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

Remus just laughed, “Yes, Really.” He took a step closer to Sirius and cupped his face. “Really,” he whispered again. Then, he kissed him.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar headcannon #euphemia potter #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar writing #wolfstar blog

[fanmoose12]

Are you still taking prompt? If you do, I have a request. Hange lives beside Mikasa's house. Levi saw her when he was forced to babysit Mikasa, his cousin, for a day. After that, Levi is really attracted to Hange, he even offered to babysit Mikasa (which he never did before) to see Hange. Levi is that tsundere guy who tends to do stupid things to get his crush attention. He even told Mikasa to accidentally get lost to Hange house so that he has an alibi to talk to her. The rest is up to you 😂

"Mikasa, please."

"No."

"Mikasa, I'm-" he was well above begging, but- "I'm asking you."

Mikasa's dark eyes peered into his. Levi didn't like the look inside them. The annoying brat lifted the corners of her lips, and Levi bit down a curse. If he ever dared to curse in front of his cousin, she'd rat him out in no time. She would tell her mother, or worse, his mother. He still hadn’t forgotten the previous lecture about proper behavior in the presence of children.

"If I help you..." Mikasa twirled a lock of her hair, looking far too innocent for Levi's taste. With Mikasa, innocuous face always meant trouble. "What will I get out of it?"

Kenny's influence in action, Levi thought grimly. Maybe, he should talk with Mikasa's parents about him. Obviously, the fucker wasn't good for their daughter.

Looking at Mikasa, Levi sighed. "I'll buy you an ice-cream."

"Mm," Mikasa raised her gaze to the celling, pressing a finger to her mouth. For a moment, she appeared to be deep in thought. Levi was already starting to celebrate his victory. But then-

"No," she declared. "Ice cream is not enough."

Levi swallowed down a "greedy brat" and offered, "I'll take you to the cinema."

Mikasa grimaced. "I don't want to go to the cinema with you."

Levi closed his eyes, counting to ten. He was going to refrain from calling his cousin a fucking nuisance. Otherwise, his mother would have his head.

"Fine," he grunted, glaring at her. Mikasa met his eyes with an equally dark expression. "What do you want?"

Mikasa smiled, as though she was waiting for this question since the very beginning of their negotiation. 

"You're going to let me stay at your place. And you're going to let me invite Eren and Armin for a sleepover. And you're going to buy us as many snacks as we want."

"Oi-" Levi started only to be interrupted by Mikasa.

"Do you want me to bring Hange-san here or not?"

"...Yes."

Mikasa outstretched her little hand to him. "Do we have a deal then?"

Levi accepted his defeat with a long sigh. "We do," he answered, shaking her hand.

His plan was simple - stupid, Mikasa had called it, but what could that brat know - and Levi was confident in its success.

"That's all I have to do?" Mikasa asked. "Just go to Hange-san's house?"

"And tell her that you're lost." Levi reminded.

"You know that Hange-san is smart, right? She would never believe in this."

"Convince her then."

"But-"

"I'll let you pick any movie you want. And you can stay up all night."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "This is manipulation."

Levi shrugged. He was not above exploiting his cousin. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

"Just do your job,” he instructed.

"Fine!" Mikasa stomped her feet, giving him a look so dark Levi was actually impressed. "I'll do it. But you have to promise that you won't bother us during the sleepover."

Levi rolled his eyes, for the thousandth times cursing his cousin. Why in the world she was so goddamn difficult, girls her age should be polite and timid, not so disrespectful and greedy. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he gritted through teeth. "Now go."

***

Glued to the window, Levi intently watched the street, waiting to see Mikasa's gloomy face and - hopefully - the pretty face of her neighbour, Hange Zoe.

Levi had met her a month ago, during the weekend that he was once again forced to spend babysitting his annoying cousin. He was trying to teach Mikasa how to ride a bike, when he saw her for the first time - Hange Zoe was tending to the small garden on her front lawn. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, with a soft smile on her pretty, round face, she was a sight Levi couldn't tear his gaze off.

He spent an embarrassingly long moment, staring at her, until Hange finally took notice of him and Mikasa. She greeted his cousin with a wave of a hand, beckoning her to come closer. Reluctantly - Levi wasn't sure if the invitation included him too - he followed after Mikasa.

And that's when he learnt her name. And found out that Hange wasn't tending to a garden, but was actually picking insects for her pet tarantulas. That's when all hope was lost for him.

Hange Zoe was weird. She was messy. She was wild.

And Levi didn't believe in love at first glance, but- ever since that day he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He came to babysit Mikasa next week, and then a week after that. And soon what wasn't love at first sight quickly turned into an insufferable crush that left Levi feeling like he was turning into pathetic, lovesick fool. 

He was thinking about Hange at work and at home. He was thinking about her during breakfast, lunch and dinner. He couldn’t get away from her even in his dreams. Hange took residence in his mind, stubbornly refusing to leave.

Every time they talked - Levi felt like the biggest idiot in the world. When Hange looked at him, his face burned. When she smiled, his heart was racing and his thoughts were turning into a mash. 

Once Hange touched his hand, and Levi thought he was going to faint.

Being close with her was awful, being apart - felt even worse. That's why he had to request the help of his cousin. As annoying as she was, Mikasa was Levi's only link to his crush.

Staring at the empty lawn, Levi tapped his foot impatiently. What was taking Mikasa so long? Hange lived just across the street.

Levi swept his eyes across the road again and- hurriedly backed away from the window, closing the curtain.

Mikasa was almost next to the door. And with her was Hange.

Levi desperately tried to calm his wildly beating heart. It refused to listen to his order. He took a shuddering breath and the doorbell rang. He rushed to answer it.

"Hello!" Hange chirped, as he opened the door.

Their eyes met, and Levi felt his knees turn to jelly. 

"Hi," he echoed quietly.

"This is kinda awkward," Hange chuckled, the sound like a music to Levi's ears. "But I found your cousin sitting on my doorstep? Mikasa said she was lost?" she laughed again, rubbing her neck. "We've been neighbours for years, don't know how that's possible..."

"He made me do it," Mikasa pointed at Levi, a wicked glint in her eyes. "He wanted to talk to you, Hange-san, but couldn't find a reason."

Mikasa was gone as soon as she finished. She ran past Levi and rushed upstairs. He watched her disappear, a thousand curses at the tip of his tongue. Cousin or not, he was going to murder the brat.

"Um, Levi?" Hange's voice distracted him from thinking where he could hide the body. "Did Mikasa-"

"She's an idiot." Levi glowered.

"So that was..."

This was it, Levi decided. Hange gave him a perfect opening. He was either going to confess his feelings or he was going to live out his days as a lonely, pathetic coward. The time has come, now he had to gather all of his courage and-

"Mikasa is very bad at pranks."

...And he was going to die as a coward.

"Oh, alright," Hange nodded, shuffling her feet awkwardly. "I'll go then... If Mikasa was lying and you don't wish to hang out together..."

Oh what a sympathetic, kind person. She was giving him a second chance. Would he be able to use it?

Levi pictured Mikasa's wicked smile and all of the mocking he would have to go through if she finds out that he wasted a perfect opportunity to confess. It gave Levi the strength and resolve he so badly needed.

He took a deep breath, looked Hange in the eyes and-

"Mikasa wasn't actually lying," he whispered.

Instantly, maintaining eye contact became too arduous of a task, and Levi shamefully lowered his gaze.

He thought of closing the door in her face and then changing his name to move to another country, but then- Hange gingerly touched his arm. Her hand was warm and her skin was soft. Levi was dangerously close to swooning.

“Wanna go to my place?” she offered, and Levi thought that if Hange asked, he’d follow her to the ends of Earth. “I can introduce you to Sawney and Bean?” 

“Sawney and Bean?”

“My pet tarantulas!” Hange proudly answered. 

Levi hated spiders. Just the thought of their small hairy legs made him shudder and squirm. But- it was Hange who was asking, and he was sick of being a coward. 

Besides, what was a spider compared to speaking about his feelings? A walk in a park...

“Just let me grab my jacket,” he told Hange. 

The smile she gave him as an answer was bright enough to blind him. 

Maybe, he’ll put off Mikasa’s murder for a while. 

#this had been sitting in my asks for too long... #sorry for being so slow anon! but the prompt is really gold #levihan