#wait shit concept of love came on hold on

[sayoneee]

☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to. 

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?” 

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.” 

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn). 

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories). 

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers. 

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark. 

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.” 

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother. 

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).  

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders. 

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.” 

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat. 

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you. 

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you. 

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin. 

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. 

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder. 

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers. 

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye. 

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie. 

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy. 

“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in. 

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face. 

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him. 

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.  

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, forreal,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word. 

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so forreal right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.” 

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?” 

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks. 

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.” 

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.” 

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight. 

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says. 

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later. 

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it. 

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you). 

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again. 

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace. 

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin. 

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once. 

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife. 

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you. 

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you. 

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place. 

“took you guys long enough.” 

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with a laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson one-shot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson x fem! reader #percy jackson oneshots #kashaf ki likhai

[metalhoops]

The Five Times Eddie Wondered Who His Soulmate Was  and the One Time He Didn’t Have To

1. 

The worst thing about knowing your soulmate was in trouble was understanding there was nothing you could do about it. 

As a whole, Eddie thought the concept of soulmates was bullshit. He thought all that fate and destiny crap was a scam to sell the idea of monogamy or co-dependence. If people were too busy fretting over when they’d meet ‘their person’, they’d forget that actual shit was going on in the world. Who had the time to care about systemic oppression when they were busy trying to work out if the cute girl across the corridor was their one true love? 

That being said, sometimes Eddie got curious about who they were. Not many people found their soulmates. It wasn’t as obvious as you’d think. When they were in pain, you would feel it. Two people could live across the world from one another, feeling each scraped knee and broken wrist but never meet. Hell, you could live across the street from someone and unless you were there to watch them get hurt and feel the same old pang of shared pain, you’d never know. 

It wasn’t like Eddie had never felt his soulmate before that day. They’d twisted an ankle when Eddie was twelve and sprained a wrist when he was fourteen, but he’d felt no pain from them so strong as when he was sitting in detention during his junior year. 

He was counting down the minutes left until he could get out of the high school, hell hole when a sharp and sudden pain flooded his jaw. He gritted his teeth and cradled it with his palm, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of his body. Eddie knew what being punched in the face felt like, and that was it. Just when the ache started to fade, another thud of pain to his cheek made his vision swim. From there, Eddie held his breath, waiting for the pain to end. He rested his head on his desk and felt his heart in his throat as the blows kept coming. 

He missed Mrs Click telling him to go home, too busy gripping the desk for dear life, his fingernails digging into the poorly carved desk graffiti, slicing a line through ‘RB 4 TT.’ He was elated when the pain finally stopped. 

Eddie kept his head down the whole walk home, trying to tell himself soulmates were bullshit, and that he didn’t care about his, but his thoughts kept returning to visions of them. He hoped they were okay. 

Eddie never wanted to know who his soulmate was until that moment. They’d had a hell of a day and Eddie wanted to be there with them, tell them he knew what it was like. He wanted to hold their head in his lap and tell them everything was going to be okay, that if it were up to him, no one would hurt them like that again, but he couldn’t. For all he knew, they could be a hundred miles away. 

2.

The next time it happened, Eddie was at home alone in the trailer. Uncle Wayne was working a night shift, and he was watching a horror movie marathon on the T.V. It was shaping up to be a good night, with him curled up on the couch watching a schlocky creature feature when he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs. 

For a moment, he was worried something horrible was happening to him. When Jeff had appendicitis, he’d reported the same kind of pain. Eddie rolled up the hem of his shirt, watching a black-blue bruise bloom and fade in the span of a second. Sometimes, if the pain was great enough, you’d get what they called an ‘echo’ of the injury. It only lasted a moment, invisible ink fading on pale paper. 

The pain had been so strong that Eddie hadn’t been able to tell if it was theirs or his. From there, it got worse. He felt a sharp pang crash over his head, then another series of blows to the face. It was always the goddamn face.

When it was over, Eddie was left feeling lightheaded. The sensation faded quickly, but he knew his other half would be stuck with the ache for the rest of the night, if not longer. 

There was a lot of conjecture when it came to soulmates. It was hard to conduct scientific studies on something based entirely on sensation, and any research that had been done was less than ethical. All the same, for the rest of the night, Eddie curled his arms around himself, holding his body in the hopes his person could feel it, that he could give them some comfort. 

“I hope you’re okay,” he whispered, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow. 

Back at school, Eddie floated through the halls feeling less than himself as thoughts of his person swirled. The school was abuzz with rumours of a fight between Billy Hargrove and the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. Eddie couldn’t care less about some pissing contest for the highest rung on the social ladder, as he still felt the echoed ache of his soulmate’s pain throughout the day. 

He ditched gym, opting to hide beneath the bleachers and smoke. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one with the idea. When he arrived, he found the overthrown king sitting cross-legged, cradling his still-bruised jaw. Eddie wasn’t a fan of the jocks, but they were the biggest contributor to his wallet, so he tried to play civil with them. Plus, Eddie wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down, and boy was Steve down. He sat beside the man, examined his face, and thought for a fleeting second. Maybe he was the one, but that was crazy talk. The Freak and the King. In what world? 

“You look like you’ve had better days,” Eddie noted. 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve replied. Eddie had a pit in his stomach. 

The two lapsed into silence, hiding out until the bell sounded for the end of gym. Eddie gave the boy a half-hearted salute as he stood.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie spoke before he left.

“You okay?”

Steve gave Eddie the ghost of a smile, all charm drowned out by Steve’s two black eyes. 

“I will be.” 

3.

Eddie had been worried about his soulmate before, but he’d never thought he’d lose them until the summer vacation after his failed attempt at senior year. He and the rest of Corroded Coffin had just finished their set at The Hideout. Eddie and the boys were carrying their instruments back to the van when the feeling hit. 

He fell to the asphalt. The whole scene sounded all the more dramatic as the hi-hat he’d been holding fell with him. He really wished his soulmate would learn to keep their head down and stay out of trouble because this was getting ridiculous. He got ready to hunker down and wait it out, having gotten morbidly used to their annual beatings. Only this time the pain didn’t stop. 

He was hit with wave after wave of agony. This time, it wasn’t just the face. He felt blows to his jaw, his stomach, and his side. He also felt a sharp spike of pain in his hand, as though someone was trying to peel his nails from his skin.

He could hear his friends around him, desperately trying to get something coherent out of Eddie, trying to work out if it was soulmate bullshit or if the guy was having an aneurysm. By the way he was acting, either seemed possible. When the pain subsided, Eddie felt foggy, like he was going through the worst goddamn high of his life. The neon signs of The Hideout and the street lamps danced before his eyes. Hundreds of little halos clouded his vision. He couldn’t think straight. 

He managed to prop himself up against the wheel of the van and pulled his knees to his chest. He knotted his hands in his long hair and tugged, trying to remind himself what his own pain felt like, though stopped when he realised he’d also be hurting them. That was the last thing they needed. 

“You okay?” He heard Gareth ask when the world came swimming back into focus. Eddie shook his head. Far from it.  

“Are they okay? Are they... alive?” Eddie hadn’t let himself entertain that idea until it was brought up. 

He felt the last flush of colour drain from his face. He could still feel them, but there was something wrong with the connection. Maybe he was dying. Eddie couldn’t help but think of his soulmate as ‘he’. He just knew. 

Eddie kept trying to tell himself he didn’t care about them, but the fact that he could die without Eddie ever having met him made his heart ache. People thought the reason you felt your person’s pain was to protect them, to know when something was wrong. Eddie had done a bang-up job at that. 

“For now, but it’s weird. I don’t... I don’t know how much longer-,” Eddie didn’t let himself finish. 

The rest of the band suddenly took on a sombre mood. Jeff and Grant finished packing up the van while Gareth offered to drive. The boys stayed at Eddie’s trailer for the rest of the night, holding their breaths and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Eventually, Eddie dropped off to sleep and when he awoke hours later, he was relieved to realise he hurt all over. He was still alive, still waiting for Eddie to find him and god did Eddie want to. 

His uncle came home at the crack of dawn and let out an elongated sigh of relief at seeing Eddie and his band of merry men curled up together on the living room carpet. Wayne greeted Eddie with a tight hug that still hurt like hell.

“I was worried something happened to you,” His uncle stated in his gravelled tone.

“Why would something have happened to me?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 

“The mall burnt down last night. I was worried you were close by.” 

Eddie shook his head and let his uncle hold him as his mind ticked away. He wondered if it was possible his soulmate was in Hawkins. Eddie wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.   

4.

Eddie started seeing spots during his lunchtime speech. By the end of his rant, the room had started to tilt. He felt unsure on his feet as he clambered from the top of the jock table to scamper back to the hellfire group. He must look worse for wear because he noticed one of his new recruits watching him.

“Eddie, you good?” Dustin questioned, sounding further away than he should. The lights in the cafeteria were too bright and his head was killing him. 

He felt close to throwing up and wondered where the pain had come from before realising the familiar distance from the sensation. It wasn’t his pain. Eddie didn’t want Henderson to butt into his love life any more than he already did, so he gave the kid a tight-lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this sensation from his soulmate, but they were growing more frequent.  

Again, sweetheart? Eddie thought, knowing it was the second migraine that week. 

“Migraine,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel his band members' eyes on him. They knew exactly who the ache belonged to. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin passed him a cool glass of water and barked orders at Mike, getting the kid to remove the ugly Hawaiian over shirt, before throwing it over Eddie’s head, blocking out the light. It wasn’t Eddie’s pain, so it didn’t help but he could appreciate the sentiment. 

“Did they teach you first aid at science camp, Henderson?” Eddie guessed offhandedly. 

“Nah. Steve gets migraines all the time. Helps to know how to deal with them.”

Eddie would never understand how a kid like Dustin came to know Steve Harrington, let alone worship the ground the guy walked on. Usually, Dustin had such good taste.  

“Eddie’s soulmate gets them too,” Gareth spoke unhelpfully. 

Even without looking, Eddie knew he was shooting him a shit-eating grin, knowing the rest of the afternoon Henderson would ask him about his soulmate. Just because the kid found Suzie, he thought the whole world deserved to find their one true love. Instead, Dustin came out with the most bullshit statement Eddie had ever heard. 

“Maybe Steve’s your soulmate.” 

Yeah, right. On what planet would that happen? 

5.

With everything that had happened to Eddie in the past few days, he hadn’t had time to think about his soulmate. He’d watched Chrissy die before his eyes, learnt the existence of another dimension and was walking through said dimension after witnessing Steve Harrington take a bite out of a demon bat’s tail. It’d been a weird ass day.  

He wished he’d been like Robin and Nancy, able to jump in and rescue Steve on a whim, but as Steve disappeared beneath the black water of Lover’s Lake, he’d felt his throat close and his lungs ache for air. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack. Nevertheless, he’d managed to get his ass in gear and follow the rest of the group down into Watergate. 

He’d dropped back to walk with Steve and found himself complimenting the man. Steve was nothing like he imagined. He was not only kind, but as Dustin had put it, a total badass. 

Once the adrenaline faded, Eddie found himself lifting the hem of his shirt, examining his side. He felt a dull throb of pain. It’d be his luck to bleed out without noticing, but he found there was nothing there. 

“You good?” Steve asked.

Eddie couldn’t help but let his gaze settle on Steve’s bleeding side. He held his breath. He thought about pushing his hand against Steve’s wound, hurting him more just to check, but Eddie couldn’t hurt Steve. Not now. Especially if he was who Eddie thought he might be. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” Eddie asked, gesturing to Steve’s side. The boy nodded.

“I’m fine, just a scratch. Can hardly feel a thing.” 

If Steve was his soulmate, he was full of shit. If Steve was his soulmate when everything blew over, they had a few things to talk about.

+1

Something was very wrong. Vecna was going down in a blaze of flame when Steve’s body started to ache. He felt the familiar sting of interdimensional bat fangs digging into dermis flesh. Robin and Nancy were cheering, wrapping their arms around Steve, whooping, hollering and panting while Steve was busy feeling like he was being torn apart. 

He was pulling away from the girls and turning on his heels before he had the chance to explain, running from the Creel House to the trailer park as fast as his feet could carry him. There was only one person this pain could belong to. 

Steve had spent his whole life searching for his soulmate, desperate to know who they were, and he’d been under his nose the whole time. The fact that Steve’s soulmate was a boy hadn’t surprised him as much as it should. That’d been a crisis bubbling away in the background of his brain since he’d gone to his first swim meet. He’d seen a boy in tight swim trunks, with tan skin and felt the familiar heart-pounding, crush he’d experienced on pretty girls he’d passed in the school hallways. 

By the time he got to Eddie, he’d hardly been able to fight through the pain surging through their connection. Dustin was wailing, holding Eddie in the wake of a bat graveyard. He looked up in alarm at Steve’s figure, noticing his pale skin and sweat-slicked brow. 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s weak voice came from Dustin’s lap. 

Steve was busy removing his clothes, trying to stop the bleeding. Dustin didn’t need to show him where the man was hurt, he could feel it. 

“I really must have got some brownie points in the end,” Eddie murmured. 

Both boys hissed as Steve shoved his shirt into a wound at Eddie’s side. That was when Dustin appeared to catch on, his eyes swelling wide as they darted between the two boys. 

“What’re you talking about, Munson?” Steve asked, trying to keep the guy talking. 

“Must’ve got into heaven after all,” He hummed, his deep brown eyes gazing beyond Steve at the distant red sky. 

“Hey. No. None of that. You aren’t in heaven because you’re not dying,” Steve hissed, using what little strength he had left to lift Eddie’s body. 

“Gotta be in heaven, if you’re here,” Eddie spoke, giving Steve a lopsided grin. Steve felt Eddie’s pain beginning to fade and panicked, not ready to let things end before they’d even had the chance to begin. 

He hoisted Eddie up through the portal and waited to do the same with Dustin. It wasn’t long before the distant sound of sirens once more surrounded the Munson trailer and Steve found himself passing out from the pain as red-blue lights swallowed the world whole. 

Eddie woke in pain, his whole body humming with a familiar dull ache that was unarguably his. It took time for him to make sense of the scene. He was in the hospital. Steve was slumped over at the far edge of the room, sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Eddie’s eyes trailed to his bedside, where he met Dustin’s. 

“Holy shit, you’re awake,” the boy gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 

Eddie cringed as he felt a rush of pain swarm through his body. He must have gasped, because Steve sprung to life, waking with a start as his eyes trailed from Dustin to Eddie. Steve’s eyes were a storm of quiet conflict, punctuated by deep purple bruises. 

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, standing to hover beside the bed, unsure of what to do next. 

He was surprised Steve was there at all. He wouldn’t say the two were close. Though Steve had probably found some way of twisting Eddie getting hurt into some fault of his, ever the damn hero. 

“Thought I was a goner for a second there,” Eddie admitted, trying to shake some of the strange tension from the room.

“If Steve hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve been,” Dustin spoke. Eddie watched as the boy’s hands trembled. He leaned over, fighting through the pain to ruffle the kid’s hair. Steve’s shoulders hunched over, doubling into himself. 

“I’ll get the nurse. Your uncle left for his nightshift, but he should be back in a few,” Dustin muttered as he made a beeline for the exit. It seemed strange the boy was extracting himself from the scene.

Henderson called over his shoulder. “I told you so.” 

And just like that, Eddie knew. 

He looked up at Steve with wide-eyed alarm, only to find his look mirrored.

“How’d you know we were in trouble?” Eddie asked, though thought he knew the answer. 

“After we killed Vecna, I felt... I could feel you. I knew you were hurt,” Steve explained. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie pushed.

“Thought it was too much of a coincidence that it felt like my soulmate was getting eaten alive by giant bats. I’d call it an educated guess.” 

Eddie gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely, as far as soulmates went, he hadn’t been what Steve imagined. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, surprising Eddie. 

“For what?”

“Not being the person you wanted me to be, I guess,” Steve spoke so candidly, it made pain and panic swell in his throat. How could Steve think Eddie was disappointed that he was his soulmate?

“I’m not disappointed, Stevie. Why would I be disappointed?” 

“You had to have known,” Steve reasoned. 

Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it sounded like Steve had been overthinking every second of it. 

“You give me more credit than I deserve. I didn’t know it was you, sweetheart. Cross my heart,” Eddie admitted, surprised at how quickly the term of endearment he’d used for his soulmate slipped off his tongue when talking to Steve. 

He hadn’t worked out shit. He’d had hunches, as though his heart knew, but the logical part of his brain kept overriding it. In what world were he and Steve perfect for each other?

Eddie threw caution to the wind as he saw the genuine look of affection and excitement painting its way across Steve’s face. He looked hopeful. Eddie cringed, sitting up and trying to lean closer to Steve.

“Come here before I hurt the both of us,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve shuffled closer to Eddie’s bed, crouching down, so the two were at eye level. Eddie wanted to kiss the boy so damn bad, and Steve was sending him all the signs that he should, but there was something he had to do first. He took Steve’s face between his hands, running a thumb over the purple bruises beneath his eyes.

“No more playing hero, okay?” 

Steve nudged his face into the palm of Eddie’s hand and nodded, letting out a weak chuckle. 

“I think I can agree to that.” 

Eddie crushed their lips together and despite the pain, it felt like everything was right in the world. 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #long post #tw violence #bi steve harrington #obligatory soulmate au #i'm back on my bullshit #and back with another #soulmate au #but this time it's #angst #with a happy ending #I don't know where this came from but I wrote it in like a day #so enjoy #5+1 fic #5+1 things #steddie fic #is it even a ficlet at this point? #I'll tage it #ficlet #anyway #drabble

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iii) - pt 1 pt 2

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : no one frustrates and confuses y/n more than matt

warnings : smoking weed, alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!), tension, sexually suggestive

mickey speaks : THIS IS LONG AS SHIT!!!! ngl im not obsessed w this part but u guys r the sweetest thank u for loving this story so far and for ur patience. part 4 definitely won't have as long of a wait.

THIS IS PART THREE GO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS NEOWW

MATT hates hosting parties.

now that he and his brothers have hosted three of these "get together"s to promote the warehouse, he’s realized just how much attendees dont give a shit about respecting the space they're in. he found it to be a cool concept for sure: give out free tiny tats along with food and drinks for more exposure and networking. nick came up with it and it sounded perfectly easy way to build their brand and get to know people in LA.

except the first one was a complete mess, with chris constantly promoting the party (he mentioned it to almost everyone he talked to, encouraging them to bring friends along), frequent instagram posts dedicated to the event, and natural word of mouth the warehouse was suddenly overcrowded and trashed within the first hour of being open. matt barely got through that night without losing his temper or calling the cops to shut down his own party.

that’s not to say matt hates attending parties as severely as he hates to have his own. he’s more than willing to go out when he has a set time to leave and good enough company. he’s trained his anxiety to behave within those spaces so that he's not ruining his or anyone else's time. now it seems his anxiety only spikes when it comes to (what feels like) hundreds of people surrounding him in his space with no intentions of leaving until well into the morning. at that point he’d prefer to be at home, completely alone.

just as he does now that nick has dragged him out to a nearby liquor store to buy “goodies” for the event later today.

matt’s face carries his typical dry expression as nick stands next to him, hands resting on his hips, eyeing the various vodka bottles.

“nick, it’s alcohol not the fucking newspaper,” matt grumbles.

“i know that! i just don’t wanna choose the wrong one.” he defends.

“if they don’t like something i think we have more than enough to choose from at this point,” matt sarcastically nudges his arms that hold onto a wide selection of alcohol that nick has impetuously given him with quips of ‘okay, hold this one.’

“matt, i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you’d be such a buzzkill, jesus.” nicks tsks.

“alright, don't say that like i was begging to come here, nick. i had no choice and-"

nick cuts him off swiftly, noticing a few girls have joined them in the aisle, “matt, move." nick guides him backwards with his hand, "you’re like, in the way.”

matt turns his head to see what exactly he was blocking, before turning back to nick and scowling, “‘m literally not in the way at all.”

“they might need to see all the options,” nick shrugs, going back to narrowing his options down while matt stands in slight annoyance, zoning out.

until he overhears the two girls call, “yeah it’s over here, y/n! come!”

and matt can’t help but turn and look (at an embarrassingly quick pace that he’d blame on his brain's pristine sound recognition and not that he wanted to see you, necessarily).

and sure enough your frame comes into view (clad in a sweatshirt and small pair of shorts), confirming that he did not mishear and you unfortunately were in fact the y/n called for. not wanting to deal with small talk, he immediately turns to nick, “the second one is best, nick. alright, let’s go.”

nick looks over to him, throwing his hands up loosely, “ohh, now you wanna be helpful whe-" he closes his mouth when he sees you over matt's shoulder, "did you know y/n's here?” his eyebrows draw together and he swiftly grabs a tall bottle of Absolut and places it in matt’s arms before walking around him (ignoring his hand’s poor attempt to hold nick back).

you’re too busy discussing which vodka tastes best with a few of your friends to notice nick walking up to you guys. you only look over once you hear a snap followed by a hushed “matt!”

you host a tender smile when you recognize the two tattooed boys, “nick? what are you doing here?” you glance from nick to matt who seems to be holding a full bar's worth of liquor while nick holds nothing but a tote bag and sunglasses he enjoys fidgeting with.

“y/n, i have a party i’m hosting tonight why would i not be here? now the real question is why are you here at 11:30 AM?” he jokes, squinting his eyes at you.

“same reason as you,” you shrug then realize you haven’t introduced your friends properly. “oh! and these are my friends; i texted you about bringing along, remi, erin, and andrea.” they each wave slightly as you gesture to them.

after an exchange of greetings and smiles (though you could tell matt’s was so phoney), nick backtracks, “okay but actually why are you here?”

“did you think i was joking? i’m getting drinks for your party!”

“i mean this in the kindest way possible: why?”

“i wasn’t gonna show up empty handed! it’s common courtesy to bring you guys something whether or not you ask.” you insist and matt fights the urge to roll his eyes.

he knows you have no mal-intent but god damn do you make yourself look so fucking pretentious.

“yeah, we’re trying to figure out what would be the best kind to bring right now,” erin chimes in.

nick immediately agrees, “oh my god, tell me about it. i was just struggling with that too!” and he turns to matt to validate, see! it’s not stupid to care about possibly buying the wrong thing!

matt just rolls his lips into his mouth, trying to give anyone a fucking clue that the conversation should be wrapping up by now.

“we’ll probably just end up getting pink whitney,” andrea reaches for the bottle on a nearby shelf.

matt can feel your eyes on him but he chooses to keep looking down at nick's ugg boots as if they’re the most interesting thing he’s seen.

you shift your eyes back to nick who’s still talking to andrea before you begin to speak, “well, i’m sure you guys are busy, you know, party planning.”

suprisingly, matt speaks up to agree with you, "yeah, you’re right actually. we are pretty busy."

nick cuts in with a shake of his head, “well, we’re actually not doing much before the party starts, honestly. we’ll probably just drop this off at the warehouse and set up a little, then go home, right matt?” nick shrugs to his brother who's eyes only widen with a look of question, “oh that's so true, matt!" he turns back to the girls with a smirk, "if you guys want you should come hang out with us now!”

matt wishes he currently had a free hand so that he could slap it over nicks mouth and drag him away before he sells his own kidney next.

"oh that's okay, we still have some stuff at home to do before we even think to get ready, but we'll be there tonight," you smile and look over to the girls who each agree.

"okay, we'll see you around then." matt tilts his head to the side encouraging nick to follow as he walks away.

"you have my insta so just dm me if you need anything. okay, bye! don’t forget swimsuits!" nick smiles and waves before rushing to catch up to matt who has already left the aisle.

౨ৎ

“i still can’t believe y/n was there, like what are the odds?!” nick giddily sighs and looks over to matt as the two walk out of the store.

“yeah, how fuckin’ weird," he murmurs, adjusting the brown bags in his hands to reach for the keys hanging from his belt loop. "small world, i guess.”

౨ৎ

“how the fuck are you so calm?” you ask in shock from behind the bat squishmellow you hold while sitting on nick’s baby pink couch, legs crossed.

“y/n, it’s like the teeniest, babiest tattoo ever,” andrea almost laughs as she takes another bite of a miniature rice krispy treat.

this “get together” at the warehouse has been a hit as far as you can tell. when you and your friends arrived it was already rowdy with people everywhere, music pounding, and bottles of alcohol scattered on the counters of a kitchenette (where you placed your own bottle of pink whitney, tied with a dainty white ribbon). you all found nick early on dancing in a crowd of people. he gave out hugs and easily convinced andrea and remi to let him tattoo them. after looking over the flash sheet nick made specifically for tonight, the girls decided to get matching cherry tattoos.

nick’s work area was so soft. he had bright hues of berry hugging his walls in the form of posters and paintings and faint creamsicle colored pillows to keep his couch company. when you all first walked in he explained how much he enjoys when clients bring in a friend so he had to make sure they had a comfy place to sit. you found nick so endearing in that since, he’s very caring and thoughtful despite his attitude at times (a far more understandable attitude than matt’s).

“it’s soo small,” nick adds, “i still think you two should get one,” he smirks looking over to you and erin huddled on the couch.

“hell no, i think i'm good for like another year," you shake your head and look over to erin while you gently run your fingers over your tattooed lower hip.

"yeah, absolutely not. i'm not even close to drunk enough to do that shit right now." she laughs.

౨ৎ

matt finds joint rolling to be the most satisfying part of smoking. the precision needed to perfectly fill, wrap, and burn makes him giddy in his own matt-kind-of-way.

after working on his last client (who wanted a somewhat abstract piece for the lowkey means of a “free tiny tats event”) and successfully sneaking through the crowd to grab a snack then sneaking back into his work area, he wanted nothing more than to get high alone.

he begins to gather his spare weed, grinder, and rolling papers from a spot tucked away in a drawer. he stops by his desk to turn his speaker back on, playing hushed kendrick lamar thorughout the space.

he taps his fingers along to the beat before sitting in a chair and displaying the items in front of him. he begins to grind the weed while humming, only to be interrupted fairly quickly.

"matttt!" chris peeks his grinning face through the curtain before taking it upon himself to walk in, "what are you doin' all alone in here?" matt pauses his movements with a sigh.

"no way you were rolling up and not planning to share? what the fuck?" chris pries in jest, rolling a chair over to sit in front of matt.

"dude, 'm so over this fuckin' party. i was planning to just smoke this and go nap on nick's couch or something." matt explains as he carefully lays the weed in the paper.

"you were barely even out there! got all your clients to text you whenever they got here." chris mumbles a scoff. "that is not the fuckin' point of this by the way, supposed to be meeting new people." chris rolls his eyes leaning himself so far into the chair that his back has practically met the seat.

"at least i'm doing something, you've only given like a tat or two all night," matt mumbles, slowly filling the white paper with weed.

because chris knows he's right he deflects the conversation to the reason he even came searching for matt in the first place. he clears his throat, playing with his fingers, "nick wants to take the girls up to the hot tub."

"thought we weren't allowing randoms up there anymore?" matt smirks at the memory of nick just hours before lecturing the both of them on what ground rules needed to be set so people don't demolish their shop for the fourth time now.

"obviously if they're with nick they're not just randoms." chris shakes his head, "pretty sure it's y/n and some friends she brought along. you remember that girl, right? she was-"

matt stops sealing the blunt to respond, "uh huh, i remember her."

chris lets out a breath, causing matt to finally look up and make eye contact with his brother (after spending their entire conversation too focused on rolling) in surprise at his pause in speaking.

"yeah, she's cool." chris yawns.

"i guess." matt says while finishing off the joint.

matt then lifts his hand up to give chris a view of his rolled joint. "stellar." chris smiles and matt hands it him, "swear you have a gift for this shit or somethin'." chris holds it in different angles near his face.

matt just shrugs and reaches for the tiny red lighter in his back pocket, "light that bitch up," he encourages chris.

"wait, no, let's save it for hot-tubbing."

"no? let's not? i didn't roll it for anyone but myself, let alone a group of barbies."

"be nice, matt."

"give me it, chris," matt rolls his eyes and signals with his fingers for chris to hand it over. “also who says i’m joining you guys in there?”

chris hands the joint back over to matt who’s immediately putting it in his mouth and bringing it towards the lighter’s flame, “nick wants the both of us up there, he thinks it’ll be fun.”

matt’s words come out quieter now that he’s speaking with smoke held in his lungs, “is he shit faced?” matt exhales the smoke as he speaks, “you know he thinks anything is ‘fun’ when he’s drunk.”

he takes another hit while chris explains, “no he’s actually really fuckin’ coherent, hasn’t had anything compared to me.” he smirks knowingly.

“not too much of this for you then,” matt exhales and passes the blunt over to chris. “so who’s gonna be hosting this party if we’re all on the roof?” matt asks squinting at him while playing with the soft edge of his graphic tee shirt.

chris’ face hides behind the smoke he releases, “we have dontae and claire working tonight too, they know how to deal with shit. i’m not too worried.”

“cool, so nick has contradicted himself twice already tonight, what happened to ‘one of us three should always be keeping an eye out’?” matt questions.

chris shakes his head, handing matt the smoked down joint, “literally how am i supposed to know why that kid thinks the way he does?”

matt licks his lips with a smile at his brothers comment then goes to hit the blunt once more.

“but i do know you need trunks on asap, brother.” chris lifts himself up, feeling a little looser now that he’s quite faded, and begins to dig through matt’s backpack in the corner of the room.

“why the fuck are my trunks just casually in my bag?”

“i put ‘em in there knowing you wouldn’t listen when we told you to pack them.”

“because i’m never getting in the pool at a party, that sounds terrible.”

“you think everything sounds terrible,” chris rolls his eyes throwing the plain black swimming trunks at matt’s chest.

౨ৎ

“‘kay so the game is just called, “i dare you…” but we’re gonna play it like drink or dare,” chris explains before taking another sip of his pepsi (he’s attempting to ‘sober up’ before playing a drinking game). “assuming the crowd knows what drink or dare is..?” chris looks around to everyone to confirm. there’s quite a lot of people in the spacious hot tub: you and your friends, the triplets, asha, and two of the triplets’ friends nathan and cameron.

when everyone nods in understanding chris explains something about the order to follow and how to discard any used cards, but you only loosely pay attention. instead, your eyes keep an unfaltering stare on matt who sits across from you with the shadows of his face highlighted light blue from the water below and a warm amber from the outdoor lighting above.

he wears his hair messy and his signature silver chain that reflects in the water harshly. you find yourself focusing on his tattooed hands (large in proportion to the joint he’s just finished rolling), and his pink tongue that has slipped out a number of times to lick at the joint and secure its shape.

he’s so into his own task he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence really. somehow that bothers you and attracts you to him at the same time. his face is so neutral as well, it’s not easy to find matt without a resting bitch face and an foul mood to match.

you feel andrea’s hand guide up your back, carrying water in its trail. you still continue in your curious trance until she leans down to your ear, “don’t start drooling now.”

you immediately look up towards her (as she’s sat on the ledge of the hot tub, cautious of her new arm tattoo). she barks out a laugh and you try not to laugh as well, punching the side of her leg instead.

“what did i miss? what are we giggling aboutt?!” nick excitedly asks as he climbs into the hot tub and sits in the empty spot to the left of you. you turn and greet him with a smile and he immediately hands you one of the many beer bottles he holds, “here, take one, pass it down.”

“oh it was nothing, thank you.” you reply when handed the final bottle.

nick nods before swatting at chris who still stands in the middle of the hot tub, “kid, you can sit down now, i think we all got it.”

chris looks over to nick, “you go first then, nick. i’ll queue up a few songs.” he shifts a floaty that holds a set of cards in it towards nick before taking a seat next to erin (you can overhear him introducing himself even though your attention is on nick as he draws).

“who’s the bright one who chose a game with cards to be done in water?” nick jokes finally looking at the card.

“i’m sure you can guess,” asha laughs next to him.

you watch as nick’s face welcomes a large grin upon reading his dare. “okay…i’m reading this out loud, right?”

“i thought ‘we all got it’?” chris jokes and watches nick deadpan, “yes, nick just say it.”

“this one’s easy, ‘i dare you to make one of the group members crack a smile in less than a minute.’” nick adjusts himself to face nathan, “nate look at me.”

“oh come on nick, nate laughs at everything when he’s drunk.” matt talks despite his lips closing over the joint he’s just about to light.

“i don’t!” nate says before looking over to cameron, who elbows his side, making nathan giggle and cover his face. “no! for real, try me nick.” he adjusts his expression to be serious but just as nick opens his mouth to speak nathan explodes in sudden laughter causing the rest of the group to laugh as well.

even matt laughs into his arm as he passes the joint to remi, next to him.

౨ৎ

as the group continued playing the dares leveled in dirty extremity. asha nibbled on cameron’s ear like a hamster, nathan texted a friend asking to have a threesome, cameron licked sugar off of andrea (who very much enjoyed it), until finally it was matt’s turn.

matt’s been far more sociable and charismatic this entire time spent in the hot tub than you’ve seen him before. but you can’t tell if it’s the weed and alcohol or even just the fact that he’s surrounded by a group with some of his close friends that’s bringing this out of him. you’re shocked the only nagging he’s done was to break up a small argument between his brothers and of course make fun of you, mouthing “you scared?” after you denied hitting the joint for a second time. you mouthed back “no” and rolled your eyes at him but his playful smirk never left.

matt hangs his head and stifles laughter after reading his card, “i dare you to bend over backwards and let the rest of the group spank you, chose who’s best.”

“oh my god!” chris’ laugh is higher in pitch now that he’s extremely high.

“guys i really don’t wanna,” he sighs.

“matt, don’t be lame! you’ll be the first one who’s drinking,” asha encourages.

“fuck this game,” he mumbles under his breath before adjusting himself to lean over the hot tub, everyone laughing at the sight. it was fun to see matt so unserious for once.

after taking turns to hit matt’s ass, he decided the fourth person’s was the best, per his dare’s request, and nathan celebrates with a throw of his hands in the air.

remi then performs a trust fall with the person she trusts least in the group, cameron (who she told there was no hard feelings since they’d only met today), making it now erin’s turn.

she blushes at her card before reading aloud, “i dare you to give a lap dance to the hottest person in the group.” she bites her lip in embarrassment but nonetheless leans over to chris and requests a song in his ear.

chris smiles and taps his phone as erin adjust herself to standing. “this is gonna be hard to do in water,” she messes with her hair.

“you’ll be fine!” you encourage with a smile.

“alright, you ready?” chris looks up to erin and she nods in response.

body party by ciara begins to play sensually through the nearby speaker gaining a few “oouuu”s from the group.

what you don’t expect is for erin to lean herself in front of matt. and matt definitely doesn’t expect this either, but he’s not too mad about it.

“oh shitttt,” cameron grins, he and nathan occupied in their own awkward-laughing fit while watching with wide eyes.

she moves slowly and hovers matt in a straddling position to “grind” on him. you take a heavy sip of your drink while watching in an attempt to hide your odd feeling about this. it was like watching a car crash. you watch as matt’s eyes gaze up and down her body, not daring to touch her but unashamed of his attraction.

asha laughs and whistles in support when erin turns around to give matt a view of her ass. nick dramatically ducks behind you yelling, “i actually can’t watch this! oh my god!”

you laugh and to mess with him whisper, “don't worry, it’s over now.”

nick looks back and immediately goes back to covering his eyes and laughing with you, “you bitch!”

you look back to matt who tilts his head back with wide eyes and lips puffing out in humor. and finally, after it feels like the two have dry humped for hours, erin stands back up and bows. matt claps with a wide smile, everyone else joining in.

when erin sits down you look up to andrea who just stifles a laugh with a sip of her drink. “well how the fuck am i gonna top that shit?!” chris exclaims while grabbing a card.

“real question is how the fuck will matt recover from that?” you joke causing matt to look over to you.

“oh don’t worry about me, sweetheart. i’m sure i’ll recover fine. chris,” he lifts his head gesturing for chris to begin his dare.

your tongue travels along your teeth to stop yourself from ruining a good time with your confusing feelings.

“i dare you to give a hickey to the person to your left.” chris bites his bottom lip and blinks slowly before looking over to andrea who just smiles and playfully flutters her fingers at him.

“you’re cool with this right, ‘m not tryna make you uncomfortable or any-”

“chris, shh.” andrea says.

“'kay, where do you want it?” he smiles.

“let’s make this fun,” she adjusts her bikini top and presses her manicured fingers along her right breast, “right here.”

nick is extra dramatic when it comes to watching chris suck harshly on his new friend’s tit, “okay, why the fuck did we choose this game?!” he turns away.

when chris is finished andrea shows it off to the group as proof and pushes chris’ cocky face away with a laugh, “nice job, stupid.”

afterwards, andrea gets a dare to expose her search history with the group, which she does without a problem.

it’s finally your turn to pick a card. “i dare you to lick whipped cream off a person of your choice.”

“oouu who’s it gonna beee?” nick nudges into your side.

you look around the hot tub, wanting to pick someone unpredictable, “ashaaa, you haven’t had much to do yet?” you look over to the girl who now has wide eyes and a growing smile.

“okay, yeah let’s do it,” she shrugs. “nate could you go get whipped cream, please?”

once nathan’s back you move closer to asha and decide to put whipped cream on her shoulder. “it tickles,” she giggles when you lick the entire dollop off of her easily.

you both laugh and you lick your lips as you head back to your seat.

౨ৎ

after another round it’s finally matt’s turn again, he draws a card that reads: give a kiss anywhere, on the person you’d “take home to mama.”

matt slowly stands and rubs his chin with a devious smile. “ummm,” he draws out, giving multiple looks at everyone before he walks over and hovers over you. you’re shocked by your body’s ease when his wet hand lifts to hold your face and his lips connect to yours. the kiss isn’t sloppy, but rather needy. you were just getting used to the taste of the bitter beer he’d just been drinking when he pulls away and steps back, unfazed.

you blink and wipe your fingers around your lips as matt wipes a hand over his eyes while laughing to himself.

“mom, would love y/n,” chris adds, calling back to the initial dare that led to that stomach turning kiss.

“'course she would, she’s a fucking saint.” matt sighs.

you squint your eyes and tilt your head, “i wouldn’t say that…”

“yeah, shit, my bad.” matt spreads his legs across from you, “forgot you have that little tattoo. i’m sure you’re not such a good girl anymore.”

you’re fucking annoyed now. you hate that he thinks you're inferior to him in any way. “hey where’s that ashtray, chris?” you ask, adjusting your seated position.

“uh, here,” he reaches behind him and places it on the same floaty as the cards, along with the lighter.

“you guys are cool to keep going,” you say and take the abandoned joint in your hand to relight it.

matt watches in spiteful anticipation.

“take it slow, and hold it” andrea explains to you in a whisper, knowing you’d never smoked in your life.

erin begins her dare to prank call a customer service line and dirty talk them when you take a hit of the joint.

matt eyes never leave your bothered figure as you inhale and cause the tip of the joint to light a bright red. he can tell you’re trying to prove a point which makes it more amusing to him when your eyes begin to water after you shakily exhale and attempt to hold back a cough.

“don’t hurt yourself.” matt quips under his breath.

౨ৎ

the group hadn’t realized just how long they’d been in the hot tub nor how drunk they all are until they struggled to get out and back to the main floor of the warehouse.

though, lots of giggles and piggyback rides helped them all stay together as they traveled back, cold and still damp. all partygoers were gone at that point, leaving the warehouse empty yet a mess.

nick (being the self-proclaimed good host he is) led the mass of drunk people to the bathrooms and brought extra graphic tee shirts and sweatpants to change into from the many boxes of merch sold in their tattoo shop. the boys had insisted that everyone just sleep at the warehouse due to their abundance of couches and chairs and their fear in sending anyone home in an uber at close to 3 AM.

matt is throwing pieces of trash in a large black trash bag when you step out from the bathroom near the colorful kitchenette of the warehouse.

he glances up when you approach slowly, feeling yourself sobered up quite a bit after peeing and washing your face.

“hey,” his voice is rough in tiredness.

“hey, do you have any water over here?” you ask politely, your lips taste salty when you lick over them.

“in the fridge,” he replies, crumbling wrappers and adding to his bag.

you notice how red and puffy his eyes truly are now that you’re this close to him and in better lighting. you walk past him to get to the fridge, almost completely empty after a long-lasting and full party.

“are you sleeping any time soon?” you ask, opening the water bottle.

“i don’t know.”

“i can always help you clean this if you need me to.”

“‘m good.” he analyzes a glass bottle to decide whether it’s worth keeping.

you nod your head, “cool.”

“you should probably sleep.” matt suggests looking over to you.

“i think i can decide that for myself, thanks.” you drink more of your water.

“you’re right i can only suggest. i’m suggesting you to go to sleep. and if you do stay up i'd suggest you don’t spend your time talking to me.”

you finish off your water and move closer to matt, placing it in the bag. “you truly know how to piss a girl off.”

“it’s my specialty.” he whispers and looks over your face now that you’re so close.

he’s so fucking hot that it genuinely upsets you at this point. you just back up and turn to go find the couch andrea’s decided to sleep on.

“goodnight, sunshine.” he calls after you, going back to his cleaning.

you're not too far away when you hear the bathroom door open and once again matt is greeting someone, only when you look over your shoulder you see erin approaching and matt leaning on the island counter with a smile.

you turn the corner with irritation. and you find yourself in the unfortunate position of having a problematic crush on matt while wanting nothing to do with him at all.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

#this got sillyyyyy #NEXT PART GETS SILLIERRRR #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Imagine Ji teaching kitten how to make a proper nest

this has been sitting in my ask box for a while.... and i'm glad i held onto it because..... me??? writing for a pair that isn't chris x his girl???? unheard of. but not impossible.

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you probably don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k | Themes & Warnings: Supernatural/Fantasy AU · Smut · Fluff · Established Relationship · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · breeding kink · creampie

minors do not interact.

For someone with a condition like his, Minho was a very logical man. Sure, he had his moments of randomness and silliness, but in the grand scheme of things, your boyfriend was level headed, rational, and he’d hardly ever let his wolf instincts interfere with his human thoughts.

Which was why you hadn’t expected something as seemingly innocuous as a pile of clothes on his bed to get him like this.

Not like you were going to complain, though. Not when the feel of his thickness filling you up time and time again was this good. Not when the way he had you on your knees, bent over like a dog, deliciously ramming into you, was this addictive.

“Minho…” You weren’t really sure what you were going to tell him, you just whined when you started to feel his lips on your shoulder, when he started to kiss and nibble your skin.

“Hm?” His deep strokes had you seeing stars, and the feel of him hitting the most sensitive areas within your walls was steadily fogging up your brain.

You swallowed, blindly reaching for one of the cushions that surrounded you, holding it tightly to somehow keep yourself grounded to reality. “Love–Love you”.

“Love you, too… Missed you, kitten. So much”, his pace increased, his panting grew a bit louder next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine, feeding that pool of arousal in your belly that was just ready to spill over at any moment now.

You’d missed him, too, of course. Every week, you looked forward to the weekend simply because you’ll be able to see him. You were tired of the distance, but you supposed it was something you’d had to bear for a while.

“Need to–Shit, fuck…” Minho nuzzled your shoulder, reattaching his lips to the skin there, grunting when you started to push back harder to match his thrusts, making him move faster in response.

Before Minho came back from work, when Jisung had come to Minho’s flat to hang out and kill time after you arrived today, you didn’t exactly expect the afternoon to take the turn it did.

‘Wait, so you’re not making a nest to fuck in? Not even during his rut?!’ Jisung looked genuinely shocked, and you had simply shrugged in response because ‘Was I supposed to? I don’t even know how’.

Admittedly, you did know about nests, but only as a concept. Throughout your friendship, Jisung had made sure to give you every single detail when it came to omega reproduction–because why would you keep anything private when you could word vomit at any given time, about any given topic, right?–and just omega behaviours in general.

Making a nest was, essentially, creating a safe, soft, warm space for yourself. Although it could be done just to be comfortable while trying to wind down, it was most commonly done with reproduction in mind, meaning, to be shared between wolves. So, upon finding out you’d never done one yourself, Jisung decided to take matters into his own hands.

‘See, you’ve got to pick up items that make you feel safe. Soft items, preferably. Most commonly you’d use blankets, throws, cushions, but you could also add plushies, clothes… If you’ve got a partner, it’s usually preferable to use items that smell like them. And it’s always a nice touch to add items that smell like you, so your partner can also feel comforted by your nest’, Jisung encouraged you to try it, right then and there.

He suggested doing it on Minho’s bed, since that was his sleeping space, and a place you both spent a lot of time together in. Minho’s sleeping clothes, his fluffy blankets, the throw and cushions from the sofa out in the living room, the bathrobe you’d used not too long ago, the pyjamas you kept in his closet, the pillows that were already on his bed… Jisung and you put these items together, creating this fluffy mess on his bed that certainly looked like a nest.

‘See? So you can do one of two things… If you’re doing it on your own, you can cover yourself as much as you can, essentially making yourself a warm little cocoon… But if you’re gonna share it, then you just lay in the middle. I, uh… I know I’m incredibly biassed, but I think this is probably one of the most romantic places to have sex in’, he said it with a completely straight face, so you really believed him.

Jisung did comment on how Minho could potentially react to a nest, considering it was something he hadn’t experienced in a romantic setting. ‘You know I build nests often when I’m anxious, so he sometimes joins me to help me calm down, but it’s all platonic… A nest built by you… I’m curious as to how it’d make him feel. If it makes him feel anything at all’.

That piqued your interest.

Exploring Minho’s animal instincts was always something you enjoyed doing. It made you curious, mostly because he hardly had any, and the ones he did have he couldn’t even understand very well.

As if on cue, the obnoxious beeps of the front door resonated in the flat. You heard it even in the bedroom, where you had been standing next to your nest with Jisung, just giggling and joking about it.

After Minho went into the flat, and the customary Tired Groan left his mouth, you heard his languid steps as he made his way to the bedroom. “Who gave you two stray cats permission to come into my home?”

His perfectly crafted tone of annoyance held no real meaning to it. You knew it, he knew it, and even Jisung knew it. So you just smiled and answered. “With yours, dummy. You wouldn’t have given us the code otherwise”.

As soon as he was at the door, his poised scowl turned into a look of surprise when his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. His eyes jumped from the nest on the bed, to you, to Jisung, and back to the nest. “Are you feeling well, Jisung?”

Of course. Based on Jisung’s earlier explanation, it made sense that your boyfriend had reached the conclusion that this was Jisung’s nest. That he was probably anxious and built it because of it.

“Yeap. I’m doing great. I was just showing our dear kitten how to build herself a nest”, Jisung usually gave the impression to people that he was dumb and silly. But in reality, he was very smart. And at that moment, in just a few seconds, he was able to choose the most suitable words to get his point across.

This wasn’t his nest.

It was yours.

Built by you with your own two hands.

“Huh…” Minho stared at the bed, and you could’ve sworn the bit of skin you could see under the collar of his shirt was slowly growing redder the longer he stood there.

You cleared your throat to get his attention, and you smiled brightly at him when his head snapped back in your direction. “No kiss?”

Minho blinked a bit, but then he was scoffing. He made his way towards you so he could cup your cheeks and pull you in for a kiss. You hadn’t seen him in a whole week, and that was way too long, in your humble opinion, so that kiss was more than necessary.

The dramatic sigh next to you made you break the kiss, and you turned to see a pouty Jisung staring at you two.

“No kiss for me?”

Of course. This was Jisung’s thing. He took any opportunity he could to beg for kisses.

Your boyfriend simply sighed, just as dramatically as Jisung had, and he quickly moved to stand in front of Jisung. Cradling the back of his head, Minho pulled Jisung to him, planting his lips on one of Jisung’s round cheeks to press a loud, moist kiss on his skin.

“Ew, why is it wet! Stop!”

They jostled for a bit, all while Minho chuckled, until he finally pulled away from Jisung and ruffled his hair. “Didn’t you want a kiss? There’s your fucking kiss”.

“A peck was enough, jeez”, Jisung wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, fake gagging.

The three of you broke into laughs and giggles for a bit, bantering back and forth on the ‘essential omega needs’ Jisung had, until Minho excused himself to go take a shower, leaving you and Jisung back on your own in his room.

“Alright, listen to me, dear kitten”, Jisung held you by the shoulders, trying to get your undivided attention. “Get as scantily clothed as possible, or, even better, get naked, lay in the centre of that nest, and wait for your boyfriend to come out of the shower. You can thank me in the morning”.

“Do you really think something like this would do anything to Minho? You know how he is, he doesn’t have these alpha urges”.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see”, Jisung cradled your face in his hands, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before he wished you good night. 

He knocked on the bathroom door on his way out, wishing Minho good night as well, then he was gone.

So you did just as he told you.

You figured that putting one of Minho’s t-shirts on and nothing else would do the trick, and it certainly did, if the look Minho gave you once he was out of the shower was anything to go by.

Minho really wasn’t that in touch with his animal needs, not unless he was close to his rut or maybe during a full moon night, but it seemed like the sight of you, dressed in nothing but his clothes and laying on your comfy little nest did things to him.

Before you knew it you were fully naked, with his head between your legs and his fingers in your cunt, giving you a mind-numbing orgasm only to flip you on your stomach and push his cock within your walls almost immediately after.

That was how you ended up here, relishing his sounds of pleasure in your ear, and the feel of him fucking you open. He was mumbling, things you couldn’t quite make out, not when his fingers found their way between your legs to rub tight circles on your clit.

“C’mon, baby…” Minho groaned, snapping his hips harder. “Give it to me, kitten, love… Want to–Fuck…”

“You–you want what, baby?” You kept meeting his thrusts, spurring him on. You were certainly almost over the edge, but you needed just a bit more… A bit more of him. “Want to stuff me full? Want that, too. Want your–your pups, baby…”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, shit, I’ll give them to you, kitten. All of them… Make sure I, fuck, I pump you full–”

Those were the last coherent words your boyfriend told you before you felt his warmth fill you up, before his name left your mouth in a breathless moan as your own orgasm raked through your body. He kept fucking your through it all, until you whined in oversensitivity.

When Minho peeled himself away from your back, your body slumped, and the sudden lack of his warmth almost gave you whiplash.

In an instant, his hands were on your buttocks, spreading you open just as his cum started to trickle out of your centre, and when you turned your head a little you almost giggled at the sight of him.

His chest was flushed, his cheeks as well, and he was staring at your core so intently it was almost like you could see and feel the phantom of his tail wagging in excitement. 

Before you could comment on it, he was leaning down and pressing a lingering kiss on one of your buttcheeks. “Stay right here, kitten”.

Minho left the comfort of your nest and made his way out of his room. He wasn’t gone for long, only a minute or two before he was back with a soaked washcloth to clean you up.

When he was done, he left the soiled fabric on his bedside table and dropped on his back next to you, staring at the ceiling. You just looked at him, resisting the urge to bring your fingers to his face so you could trace his features. Resisting only because he seemed to be deep in thought and you didn’t want to disturb him.

Eventually, he turned to his side, propping his head on his hand and looking at you. “That was…certainly something”.

You chuckled. “It was”.

“Kitten…” Minho scooted closer to you, draping an arm over your waist. “Do I…have a breeding kink?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Loudly. “Oh, babe. Don’t all alphas do?”

“But I didn’t, though!” Minho was pouting and everything, which only prolonged your chuckles. “Not when I’m not, you know, going through my rut. But seeing you here, like this… Shit. It’s essentially just a pile of clothes and blankets and cushions, but I think it’s altering my brain chemistry for real”.

“Mmm…” You pushed on his chest a bit so he could be on his back again and you could lay on top of him. Minho wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you close as you pressed a kiss on his lips. “It’s okay, baby. I can always build more nests so you can enjoy coming inside me. I enjoy it”.

“Eager, are we? What am I gonna do with you, kitten?” Minho chuckled, pressing quick pecks on your lips, waking the butterflies in your stomach, as if they hadn’t been wreaking havoc inside you a handful of minutes ago.

“Hopefully fuck me again, if I can have a say in what you decide to do”.

You clearly didn’t need to say anything else, just like he didn’t. The mischievous smile on his lips told you all you needed to know. 

It was definitely going to be a fun night. All thanks to that pile of miscellaneous pieces of fabric.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

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#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids werewolf au #lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho smut #minho fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf lee know #werewolf minho #✨🌙✏

[yanderes-galore]

heyyyyy,

so i really loved your self-aware ethan winters and was hoping you could write a scenario with ethan finding a way to leave the game and darling is just wondering why is a man in the middle of the room

sending all my good vibes so you have a great day <3

sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

Ah, sure! I'll see what I have, I never thought of continuing it so I'll try 😊 Thanks for the good vibes, your english is fine 💜 May be a bit tame, struggled a bit but did what I could for Ethan's yandere behavior!

Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Concept

Real

Yandere! Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-Aware game character, Swearing, Breaking and entering (?), Delusional behavior, Forced relationship, Poessessive themes, Cutting mention, Wounds.

When you woke up the first thing you smelt was mold. The thought puzzled you at first. Black mold... the type of mold that develops during events like water damage.

But you never had any water damage in your home.

That was the first incident that puzzled you. The next was when you walked towards the room you kept your game system/PC in... only to be met with something stranger. A man was on his hands and knees in your house, looking bewildered.

The musky smell of mold got stronger when you got closer. When you saw the man you stayed quiet and gazed at his clothes. They were dirty... familiar.

It was like those of a video game character... Resident Evil in particular. You decide to test your luck... this must be a dream, right? Why would any of this be real?

Maybe you were smelling mold in your sleep?

"Ethan?" You find yourself saying. There was no way it actually was him, dream or not. You're stunned into silence again when the man looks up.

"You... You know my name!"

The mysterious man's tone is less of a question and more excitement. His face reminds you of the rendered models you'd seen of Ethan Winters online. Were you scared... or just confused?

"Sir... that's really your name?" You ask with hesitance, moving your hand to the pocket that holds your phone. The man sits up on his knees with an intense gaze on you.

"E-Ethan Winters."

"Like the game character?" You narrow your gaze.

"Game...?" Ethan looks around and sees your copy of Resident Evil 7/8 on the desk. He stares at it blankly for a moment before slowly nodding. "I guess so...."

"Where did you come from? How did you get in my house?"

Ethan looks puzzled again before slowly standing up.

"Um..." He looks towards your TV/monitor. "Supposedly from there?"

You're both bewildered and confused at this point.

"Explain yourself or I'm calling the police."

"Wait, wait, wait! I've come too far for that!" Ethan holds up his hands. "This may sound weird... but I do think I came from your game. I've been trying really hard to come here-"

"The hell are you talking about!?"

"I-I've been the person you've been playing in your... game." Ethan starts, still new to the concept himself. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time since you're the player... and I found a way!"

"You're trying to say you're a game character...."

"Yes!"

"... and I'm supposed to accept this is not a dream?"

Ethan frowns at your response.

"... I can prove it to you."

"Really?"

Ethan pulls out the knife he always has in the game and presses it to his arm. You look away with a grimace when he cuts his arm... but there's no blood. Only mold... the same mold you've been smelling.

Ethan Winters... the GAME character... was inside your home....

"No shit...."

"Believe me?"

"How can I not after... that-"

"Great!" Ethan cheers, stepping a bit closer. "It's so nice to meet you...?" Ethan says, expecting a name to call you. You give him your name. Ethan smiles, saying it's nice on the tongue.

"What brings you... here?"

"Not sure how I did it... but I wanted to meet you since you're the only thing real in my 'life'."

"Only thing real?"

"My life is merely a game in your world..." Ethan sighs. "Don't you get it? Nothing I know is real except this place. No Mia... No Rose...."

You frown. Putting it that way is... really sad. You never thought of it like that. Then again... video game characters aren't supposed to be real.

"Damn...." You mutter. Ethan asks to sit on your couch and you comply.

"None of it matters... not when I'm here now, at least." Ethan gives a small smile. "Maybe I can make a new life here."

His gaze on you is unnatural. It feels synthetic... you know that he isn't entirely human, and that's not just because of the mold. However... you're still trying to understand the situation you've just been thrust into.

"Could you... show me around?"

---

Ethan already knew how to make connections between items in your world and his. After all, his world was modeled after yours. As a result... Ethan adapted quickly.

You, however, struggled to grasp the concept of Ethan in your home. You didn't think you could get used to it. You didn't even know what to tell people.

Ethan treats you like you're his savior. He praises you for opening his eyes. He thanks you for allowing him to stay. You only allowed it as you weren't sure what else to do...

You can't release him into the public.

Living with him was strange. Mold was a frequent smell that invaded your nose no matter what you did to cover it up. You also noticed Ethan doesn't eat... sometimes he doesn't even sleep.

He's unnatural... an anomaly.

You tried to treat him like a friend. If others asked... you said he was just a friend! Ethan appeared to enjoy it when you called him a friend....

If anything, Ethan just wants to incorporate himself into your life.

In his eyes... your fates have been intertwined since you first played that game of yours...

Why wouldn't he cling to you? You're like partners!

Partners... soon, Ethan starts to think you're better than Mia. Mia isn't even real... but you are, just like him! You wouldn't mind if he inched your relationship towards something more... intimate, would you?

After all, he technically was designed for your entertainment one way or another.

You notice Ethan become overly sweet towards you. He's always been sweet and respectful due to his character. Over time... it gets concerning.

Ethan vows to dedicate his whole existence to you, his player. He wouldn't be where he is right now without you! As a result... he doesn't want to leave your side.

Ethan feels he's your type anyways! You seemed to like the game he was a part of a lot... and you mentioned he's really sweet at times... surely he can make this work! Even if he's not fully real compared to you.

Ethan is more like a synthetic lifeform compared to you... still born of code rather than flesh and blood.

Ethan realizes this may cause problems. Yet... he's patient. After all, he isn't going anywhere. There's nowhere to go for him.

Even if he could go back to the game, he'd rather stay where's it's real.

Truthfully, Ethan believes fate will bring you two together in the end. Even if you don't reciprocate his gentle touches. Even if you ignore his words of praise and adoration... he's confident.

There has to be a reason you released him from the game. There must be a reason he's so drawn to you. You're partners... for everything!

Clearly Ethan will be here for you until the end...

If you can't get rid of him, why not choose him as your next and only partner instead of looking for someone else?

#yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil 7 #yandere resident evil 8 #yandere ethan winters #yandere self aware au

[leclsrc]

Hi! I just found your blog and am in LOVE! Congrats on 2000 followers by the way! You deserve them all and more, I'm a new follower so you're over 2000 now hehe~ Could I please request the 'hugs from behind' prompt with Charles Leclerc? It sounds so cute! I hope you're doing okay. Congratulations again! 😘❤️❤️

olive you – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, olive theory drabble

auds here... finishing out my drafts from the 2k celebration... i have like 65 more i have to filter thru lol... love u guys

Waves crash softly against the pebbly shore, salt filling your nose as you twirl pasta onto your fork. There is something so enchanting about Italy, something so romantic and unbridled, that keeps you alive and happy whenever you visit. Perhaps it’s the food, the locals, the souvenir shops, the signs reading alla spiaggia right by the summery coast.

You chew on your fettuccine, and watch as a fork slowly deposits olive segments onto your plate. Perhaps, then, it’s none of those things. Perhaps it’s him. “Mmm. Grazie,” you hum gratefully, mixing the olives into your pasta.

Like many routines, this came to fruition with years of habit. On your first date, at an Italian place in Monte Carlo, you’d gushed about how much you liked to eat olives. Charles had done the complete opposite—he couldn’t stand them, he droned. Not in pasta, not in martinis, not anywhere. So it came to be that he would buy you jars of olives or give you the little bits he found on his plate.

It wasn’t a big deal to either of you at first, but your friends thought it was just about the cutest idea in the world, the pinnacle of the opposites attract concept, the perfect balance. And every time you get together they ask Charles if he likes olives, and each time, he kisses your hair and murmurs never.

He loves to kiss your hair, your legs. Nobody has ever come that close, you tell him every time. Only the air, only the water, only my spritzes of perfume. Nobody.

—

“Martini?” Carlos asks.

“Oh, I—” Charles smiles dopily, shaking his head. “Olives, I don’t like them.”

“Took a shot with the order. Sorry, mate.” They shake hands, wait for the meeting to start, make small talk about work and the off season. Being back at Fiorano always gives Charles a daunting kind of feeling, one that typically quells once he catches sight of you. Carlos pauses, takes a sip from his cold drink, then, “Are you sure you don’t like olives?”

Being a relatively new close friend means Carlos hasn’t yet been privy to the olive theory that’s spanned years and continents. Charles nods, opening his mouth to explain why, and why this fact matters so much, then—

“When we got a 1-2 in Bahrain last year,” his teammate starts, “and we all got drunk, Isa didn’t let me have alcohol because she didn’t want to drive me home.” He laughs. “Anyway, I saw you eating olives. You had a little toothpick thing, picking out olives from the aperitivo.”

Charles’ heart pounds. “Huh? Well… I guess I wouldn’t… mind them.”

“Eugh.” Carlos grimaces. “Olives are shit. Isa thinks so, too.”

—

You’re busy at the stove cooking a half-assed meal when he wrestles himself through the flat entrance, following the smell of garlic and approaching you instantly from behind. His hug is intense, his lips latched onto your neck. He inhales your scent, comforted by the traces of your perfume, his own scent lingering on his polo that hugs your body.

“Don’t be mad,” he says thinly, half-muffled.

“I told you don’t get a tattoo of my face across your arm.”

“It’s not that,” he says, resigned. He pouts, and you turn to comfort him, fluffing his hair up. A rogue strand falls in front of his face and when you lean closer to brush it away, he takes the chance to kiss you.

You smile while you kiss. Whaaat? You ask into his lips, amused by his silence and shyness. He still is quiet, lips just resting on yours. You pull away, a bit more worried now.

“Charles.” Your hands find purchase on his arms, shoulders, then his face in your grip. He holds your hands there.

“I…” He pauses. “I think I—I like olives.”

You relax, and the smile that arrives at your lips is purely involuntary. You can’t help it. “So we both like them,” you say simply, with a smile. “We’ll have to work out a system where you don’t steal all my jars from me.”

What your goof boyfriend fails to realize, you think as he bends over the stove and helps you finish off the pasta (extra olives, this time) is the olive theory has never mattered to you. It was never about the olives. It was never about the jars.

If love was about anything—it’d always, always be Charles.

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

[punkfloweranarchy]

Miles didn’t grow up around animals or small children so he just… isn’t comfortable around either. He doesn’t know how to handle them so he tries to keep his distance. Even the friendliest of dogs makes him kind of nervous and all cats love him but they literally have knives on their feet so he doesn’t touch them, thank you very much. One time a cat crawled onto his lap when he was taking a rest on patrol and he literally sat with his entire body clenched for the entire hour it took a nap on him for. (He had to admit the purring was really cute and he started leaving out some food for the local strays after that, but he never gets too close).

Hobie, on the other hand, grew up chasing down the neighborhood dogs and trying to befriend and take home all the stray cats. He also babysat a lot because he was nice and involved in his community and all the moms loved him. Even now, he helps out around with babysitting and taking care of the street animals whenever he can. Kids and animals are just easy to read and understand and they have no concept of what society wants for them, they’re just purely themselves and Hobie digs it.

When Hobie finds out about Miles’ aversion to kids and animals, he makes it his personal mission to change his mind. He offers to babysit Mayday any chance he gets and always ropes Miles into helping. He teaches him how to hold a child properly and the tips and tricks to help understand them and their needs. (“They’re just little people, Miles. Nothing too complicated about it, really.” “Hobie. They shit their pants and eat their boogers and cry for no reason and are so fragile they shouldn’t even be able to survive. Babies are complicated as hell.” “You saying you’re scared of a bit of boogers, love?” “Fuck you.”) He slowly gets better and more confident and Hobie melts every time he sees Miles relaxed and in his element, just holding Mayday and explaining what he’s doing when he’s cooking or cleaning or just walking around the house and holding her up to see all the places she can’t because he saw people doing it for their cats on the internet (“Hobie, she’s never seen above the fridge!” “Miles, love, she literally crawls on the ceiling, I think she’s seen it all.” “Yeah well, she’s never seen it right side up, so suck it.”)

Animals are a bit harder for Hobie to introduce Miles to but he says screw it and decides to adopt a stray cat that he names Miss Anarchy and carts her around with him wherever he goes. The first time Miles sees her perched on Hobie’s shoulder he practically flings himself across the room and refuses to get closer than 5 feet (“They can leap, Hobie! No way am I getting in the blood circle.” “Miles, Miss Anarchy is not going to leap at you claws out. She is a sweetheart and a pacifist.” “… You named your stray cat Anarchy? Why am I not surprised.” “Well, she’s not really a stray anymore, is she?” “You’re impossible.”) Hobie conveniently forgets to tell Miles that Anarchy was declawed until she finally catches the nervous boy off guard and lays directly on his chest and starts making biscuits (“Hobie. Hobie help. Your little monster is… wait. Where are her claws?” “She don’t have any.” Miles is outraged on her behalf. So maybe he’s been doing some research about cats in his spare time and came across an article about declawing. Sue him. “Hobie, we have to find her previous owners and avenge her.” “Now you’re speaking my language, love.”) Miles ends up befriending Miss Anarchy and slowly gets more comfortable with the idea of other animals.

Hobie is fucking proud.

#this turned out much longer than i originally planned #maybe i’ll turn it into a fic #im attached to miss anarchy now #char: miles morales #char: hobie brown #spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse drabble #vee’s soapbox #vee’s drabbles #ship: punkflower

[purplekiwis]

Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: ummmmmm holy shit?! you guys really liked this fic 😫 i wasn't expecting this amount of love for this AU at all but your feedback has been making me so happy! i really hope you guys love this last part as well💙

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

You couldn’t resist.

As much as you hated him you couldn't resist. 

You didn't even waste time putting on your pajamas. As soon as you got to your room, you threw yourself on the bed, unzipped your jeans and finished off what Harry had started with the recollections of what he’d said and done to you on repeat inside your head.

And you didn't even feel bad about it as you laid in bed afterwards… motionless, apart from your hand that was still gently touching under your panties, playing around with the wetness as you slowly came down from the high. Honestly, you just felt extremely relieved… and sleepy, you were getting sleepy.

But the more you calmed down, the clearer your ideas became, and something Harry had said stuck with you. That last thing before you left - “now you know what it feels like to be left stranded” what the hell was that supposed to mean?

There was only one thing that you could think of that could fit that narrative, and that was you ending things before he got to take your virginity. As in, you made him wait for months and then just when he was about to get some, you broke things off.

As much as you wanted to believe that was the case and reinforce the concept that he was trash, that didn’t sound like something Harry would hold a grudge on... especially since he could have taken it if he wanted to. He was the one who suggested you’d take things slow. Besides, it wasn't like he had any trouble finding people to fuck with… as you were well aware of.

So why was he upset?

You couldn’t figure it out, nor could you figure out his reasons for doing what he had done earlier. Not the part where he stopped - that part you recognized had been some sort of vendetta.... but why had he kissed you like that? That hadn't been planned. You could tell.

He couldn't possibly be that desperate, could he? He had to be having sex, right? You probably would be if you weren't a virgin and stuck in the ridiculous belief that you should wait for ‘the one’.

Honestly, what a stupid concept.

Months ago you were certain that Harry was ‘the one’ for you and look where that got you.

Luckily though, you never blamed yourself for what happened. It might sound surprising, but it hadn't affected your self-esteem much or made you feel inadequate in any way... If anything, it had only taught you how real people function. Prior to it, you had a very black or white view of how things worked in relationships. Perhaps it was your innocence... but you had always thought that only bad lovers could do bad things.

Turns out that good lovers also can, and good lovers also will.

And no matter how much you try to taint your memory of them with anger and resentment in order to make sense of it all, you won't get to. The memories will always be clear and sweet and full of joy, even when reality isn't.

After what happened between you and Harry, moving forward in life was strangely uncomfortable.

Even though you thought about what happened by the bus all the time, it still didn't feel entirely real, or recent... more like a disturbingly vivid dream, or perhaps an old memory you only recently realized you had.

It didn't help that you hadn't told anyone about it - not even Niall - which was also weird. You felt as if you were keeping something from him, which to be fair… you were. It would have been easier to pretend nothing had happened if he hadn't been there that night, but he was, and obviously noticed how upset you were as soon as you got back in the car.

He still asked about it now and then, which was a little disconcerting and off character for Niall, but it was also the only proof you had that something had happened that night, and you weren’t completely hallucinating it.

In terms of your relationship with Harry, it had reverted to its previous state, which meant you weren’t talking or interacting in any way. You might have caught a glimpse of him at the rink or seen his car parked nearby, but nothing beyond that. He was gone like a ghost, once again, and you were mourning his absence.

But, as strange as it was to return to normalcy after such an unexpected turn of events, it felt good to be back on track.

To put on a costume, cover your face in shimmers, and take on the role of someone who wasn't really you. This girl was cheerful and optimistic; she wasn't depressed because a boy wasn’t in love with her. She had a lover who loved her back and held her tenderly while he danced with her over ice. And even if it only lasted for a short while, you got to share her joy, and felt it pour out of your own chest as the sound of applause took the place of the music...

And then that goddamn whistle blew.

Not just any whistle... but kind you improvise by taking the tips of your fingers to your mouth and blowing. It was familiar, for sounding so completely out of place amid the conventional clapping.

Your head snapped up to face the audience, eyes unapologetically searching for a particular face in the crowd.

Harry’s,

That was his whistling. The one you hadn't gotten to hear in months. The one you never thought you would miss if it wasn't there, but you did... a lot.

Funnily enough, you'd reprimanded him for doing it before, for considering it wasn't appropriate for this type of competition, but he always said he didn't care what other people thought; he'd cheer for his girlfriend regardless and clapping just wasn't his style.

There was no way this could have been him, though...

Harry hadn't attended your championships since your breakup, and you couldn't think of a good enough reason for him to come back now… unless he had come to see someone else, but if he wasn't here for you, why would he be cheering so hard for the competition?

You'd already given up on scanning the crowd as you skated off the ice, but when Niall turned to you and asked, “What’s Styles doing here? Did you invite him?” that stubborn, burning itch was rekindled inside of you.

“No, of course I didn’t invite him.” Your voice was quiet, but it still sounded startled. “Was that really him, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure… but you can check for yourself if you want. He’s sitting right next to exit B.”

You tried to sneak a peek, but you didn’t get the chance to because as soon as you got close to the border Paul, one of the skating coaches you worked with, came over to discuss your performance. As much as you would have liked that not to be the case, there was no truth in saying that the coach's arrival took your mind off Harry right then and there, but you forced yourself to focus. There were more important things. He wasn't the top priority. He was a baffling enigma.

“Do you think we did well? I got the feeling my landing after the Toe Loop was a little wonky…” You asked, concerned about the ranking. You were pleased with how you had performed in the short program, but the technical errors made during the free skating segment worried you a little.

Niall grunted a laugh in response to your question. “You think yours was bad? How about mine during the Axel? I completely messed it up.”

“We'll work hard to improve those for the next phase of the championship, which I'm still confident you'll be cleared for.” Paul attempted to reassure you before you began hurling more questions at him. He wasn't usually one to try and avoid other people's drama, but he did during championships, since his stress levels were already at an all-time high. “The duo that came before you were technically very good, but they had a big issue with emotional delivery, which is not a problem for you two.”

“Do you really believe that we’re clear then?” asked Niall, who was beginning to look a little more relieved.

“I’d be outraged if not, but let’s wait for the judges' verdict... they’ll announce your score at any moment now. We’ll still have to wait to see how the other pairs do, but I’m not expecting any big surprises.”

Sure enough, not long after Paul finished speaking, you heard what sounded like the beginning of an announcement. “Oh God, I think it’s happening- quick, someone hold my hand.” Niall stepped forward as soon as you asked, and when your scoring sheet came, you both immediately focused on it - scrutinizing all the details of the technical elements and program components of your performance. “Please, please, please, please…oh my- Ahh!!” Your muttering turned into a shriek as Niall’s arms encircled your shoulders in a tight embrace. You both laughed out loud and started jumping up and down as soon as you hugged him back. It was a thrilling moment.

Despite a few technical flaws, you were able to match your score from the previous year, what indicated that you would not only progress to the next phase but most likely also make it to the podium.

“It was well deserved, my dears… bravo!” Paul, who had been peeking at the sheet from behind you, commended with a clap.

“We wouldn’t have done it without you, coach.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but it was your hard work that got you here. I only made a few tweaks here and there.” In all of his extreme campiness, the man grinned broadly and clapped enthusiastically. “Oh, what an amazing effort and outcome! I can't say I'm surprised when you are my favorite skaters to watch… together with the new girl who arrived from Xiamen, of course.”

“Mei?” A flustered Niall asked upon hearing the coach mention the girl he knew well.

“Ah yes, she’s marvelous! I tried to pair her up with Maurice as soon as she got here but sadly, she refused. Said that apart from you Niall, none of the male skaters were at level with her and well, what could I say? She wasn’t wrong.” Niall's flushed cheeks escaped Paul's notice because his attention was drawn somewhere in the back. It was well-off because if it hadn't been, Paul might have had the urge to play cupid. If there was one thing he adored more than teaching, it was putting pairs together, especially when they were actual lovebirds. “Oh no, I believe I just saw one of my students explode into tears...” Despite the way he took his hand to his chest in dramatic fashion, there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Better go check out the situation over there now… but once again, my darlings… congrats, and good luck!”

“Thanks, coach.” You both spoke as Paul fled the scene. But as soon as the two of you were alone together, Niall turned to you and exclaimed, “Wow, did you hear that? How cool is it that she thinks I'm at level with her?” He grinned to himself like lovesick fool, “Do you think there could be any another meaning to that?”

“I think it means she thinks you’re cute.” That sounded like something one would say if they were interested. “And, has probably fantasized about being your skating partner, which won’t happen because I’m not up for trading you with Maurice either, but you should definitely ask her out.”

“Do you really think so?” You made a gesture as though the answer was obvious. “What should I ask her to do, then? I'm not even sure what options there are. I'm terrible at planning dates.”

“Hmm… she seems a bit competitive, so I imagine she would like something she could beat you at, like bowling or the arcade. But you could also play it safe and take her to the aquarium instead; that's always a win.”

“Oh man, you're really good at this,” He noted down your suggestions on his phone so he wouldn't forget them later. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t want to switch partners either... you know how gassy I get when I'm nervous for a performance. I can't let her see me like that.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t remind me.”

Since Niall seemed to be distracted by his thoughts and phone, you took the opportunity to approach the rink's edge and have a look at the benches near exit B.

The sight made your stomach drop.

Harry wasn’t there.

However, there was a vacant seat in the back, suggesting that someone had been sitting there up until recently. You thought he'd stick around until you left...

Your heart had been racing at the prospect of seeing him after the contest was over, but now that he was gone, you were beginning to suspect that you weren't the skater who had enticed him to attend.

That empty seat - it sent your mind into a tailspin and brought back the one reason why you had broken up with that…

Backstabbing traitor.

Honestly, you were furious at your own stupidity for harboring expectations. He didn't care about you. Never had, never would. He only cared about himself.

Niall joined you at the border, leaning against it like you were. “We have to go out tonight to celebrate. I don't even care if we make the top three; the fact that we're sure we'll go to the next phase is enough for me.”

You put on a brave face. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere we don’t have to drive to. My goal is to consume enough alcohol to have no memory of how I got home tomorrow morning.”

“Huh uh, and then it's up to me to put up with your drunken gibberish and drag you to bed at the end of the night… got it.”

“Eh, I'm sure I’d make it on my own... it wouldn't be the first time.” He half- shouldered and after a brief moment of silence, offered a suggestion. “I heard there will be a party tonight at the sports bar. It'd be fun to go, but I don't know... there’s a chance the hockey team will be there.”

You took a deep breath in, “I have no problem going if you want... even if they're there. I don't give a damn about them.”

“Seriously? Awesome then! It's going to be fun; you'll see... and there will be other girls there too. I think Natalia will, at least... I saw her posting about it on Facebook.” Niall reported enthusiastically, already animated about the plans. You tried to look lively as well, or at least smile a little.

“Will Mei be there?”

“Oh, I have no idea. I hope not... or yes, I don't even know.”

You forced a smile again, thinking to yourself that that was exactly how you felt about a very, very infuriating player.

It was almost certainly the worst party of the century, and you'd gotten dressed up for it.

There was music playing, but it was at such a low volume that it was completely drowned out by the sound of the television, which was, predictably, broadcasting sports nonstop. An NFL game was currently on, but you weren't even interested enough to bother finding out who was partaking. The whites were pitted against the blues. That was all you needed to know.

You and Niall had taken a seat in a quiet corner, wanting to hold a table in reserve for when the bar started getting crowded. That hadn’t exactly happened, at least not in the way you had anticipated. Several people had arrived, but none of them were especially fascinating to you.

There was an old man drinking alone, three suit-clad men in their 40s, a group made out of six male friends and two supportive girlfriends, a super fan of one of the teams playing who spoke more to the television than everyone else in the room combined, and, interestingly enough, Natalia.

She was the only reason why you stayed instead of going elsewhere.

When she walked into the bar and saw you and Niall, a look of great relief had taken over her entire face. She'd sat down at your table and hadn't gotten up since. Five consecutive beers later, Niall was already slightly boozed up.

Because of your early bird sleep schedule, you guys didn't typically come out for drinks much. As a result, it didn't take long for him to start getting a little drowsy while staring intently at the TV, leaving you to listen to Natalia's ramblings.

That was what you got for choosing soda over something stronger.

She had been telling you about how she’d went there to meet a guy she was casually texting with, but apparently the night had changed his plans and he had ended up going to another bar with his friends.

She still had plans to meet him there until the night was done but was currently pretending to be busy and unconcerned as payback. All he had heard from her in the last 2 hours was that she had ran into some friends and decided to hang out with them a while. “You know… just so he doesn't think I’m that interested,” she had confided to you after taking a sip of her beer.

Speaking of beer, Niall had practically passed out on top of his. He was officially knocked out, and you were going to have to take him home soon. This party was shit, but the mere thought of dragging your well-built friend up the stairs of your apartment was making you want to stay longer.

Fortunately, Natalia offered to help you carry him because she was also going in that direction, and ultimately ended up assisting you in putting him to bed, and using your bathroom as well. On her way out, you offered to walk her to the door, at which point she gave you a once-over and questioned, “Would you like to come to this other party with me?” 

You blew air out of your cheeks. “Ha, thanks but I'm not sure I want to go out again...”

“Oh, okay. It's just….you’ve dressed up so nicely. If I were you, I think I wouldn't resign myself to that lame party we went to. I would have thought it would be a waste of that outfit.” She bounced on her heels. “Just for a little while? It's not far. It's practically right next door.”

“Where is it again?”

“At the other sports bar—I know, it sounds dull—but this one is packed because the hockey team is having a party there.”

You knew which bar she was referring to, and its location wasn't exactly what you considered to be right next door. Sure, it was within walkable distance, but it was getting late. A little too late for a girl to be safe walking by herself outside.

You realized that keeping Natalia company just because you didn’t want her to walk alone was dumb since you would be putting yourself in the same predicament on the way home, but you still felt bad knowing she would be walking by herself there.

Besides, she was right; you deserved to be seen by more people. And, especially by a certain hockey player who had been dumb enough not to appreciate what he had while he had it. The only problem was that, as usual, he wasn't really in the mood for being appreciative.

He was in the mood to be nasty, and his expression made that clear when he didn't look the least bit pleased to see you arrive.

The razor sharp glance he sent your way caused your confidence to dwindle. He didn't want you at this bar, and fortunately for both of you, you weren't in the frame of mind to defy his wishes. As a matter of fact, you had already turned around and exited the same door you had entered through, but then you heard him approach you from behind. “What the fuck are you doing out here alone?” His intervention stopped you in your tracks, but you never turned to face him. He crossed the sidewalk to get to you. “Where’s Niall?”

“In bed.” You responded candidly. “I just came to walk a friend, but don’t worry… I'm already leaving.”

“Alone?”

“Obviously. Unless, of course, you have any intentions of walking home with me, which I doubt.”

“Why would I ever wanna do that?” He asked brusquely, but his voice instantly grew softer when he noticed your dejected grimace. “Would you like me to?”

“Would it make any difference if I did?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You know what? Fuck you.” God, that felt great to get off your chest. “Seriously, why do you have to act so goddamn cold around me all the time?! It's aggravating!”

He snorted in disbelief. “Fuck me? No, fuck you. It was you who made me in this way! You broke me.” He got closer, until he was practically in your face. “How am I supposed to act Y/N? Tell me, how do you want me to act after what you did to me?”

“After what I've done to you? I was in love with you, you jerk!”

“Why did you break up with me, then?”

It didn't matter that you weren't scared of him, you still weren't immune to the pressure his eyes were putting on you. Your façade was crumbling. “You know why.”

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” He insisted, practically snarling. “You're lying to me, just like you did before. I saw it in your fucking eyes the other day, and I see it right now! Why did you break up with me?”

Harry’s agitating proximity was making you lose your cool. For the first time, you felt compelled to answer the question truthfully, so you did, “Because I found out you were cheating on me.”

His face fell. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry. I saw your dms all right? ‘can't talk right now, gf’s here. i’ll hit you up as soon as she leaves’, does that ring any bells? No? How about ‘nah, we’re fine. she won’t get sus.’?”

“I swear to God, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Really? Well then, maybe you forgot the texts, but I'm sure you remember the nudes she sent you, don't you?”

“What nudes?”

“Stop, okay? I saw it with my own eyes! She was sending you disappearing photos. I’m not stupid, Harry- I know what that feature is for! And then you asked for more, from different angles, and when she sent them you were all like ‘wow. those look amazing’… Oh! and of course, my personal favorite, ‘definitely much better than hers lol’.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I am talking about a skater who came here in the last competition. The one you were going to meet up with behind my back.” He appeared to be totally lost as his brows were furrowed deeply. “Oh wait, I think I get it now. She wasn't the only one, was she? That’s why you don't remember. You’ve probably lost track.”

“I never cheated on you.” It almost sounded true the way he said it. Shame that you knew he was lying. “I might have talked with a girl or two while we were dating, but never with that purpose in mind and I’ve certainly never made plans to meet any of them.”

Your scoff was loud and clear. “So you want me to believe that it was all a coincidence that after you cancelled our plans that day, I happened to walk into the locker rooms and there was a girl saying she was going to be meeting up with you at the time we were supposed to be hanging out?"

“And you believed her?”

“Why would I not believe her, Harry? She showed me the convo. She showed me your profile. It was you!”

“Hold on, wait- you said she was a skater?”

“Yeah, and-” Unexpectedly, Harry started laughing, as if he thought this was some kind of practical joke that you were playing on him. “What are you laughing about you maniac?”

He kept laughing, but his laughter had become cynical, like he couldn’t believe this could actually be happening. “That bitch. That big fucking bitch…” He wrapped his arms over his head and started pacing aimlessly. “She came up to you and told you that bullshit? How did she even know who you were? ‘Cause I didn’t tell her… wanna know why? Because of this! Because I know how bigmouthed skaters are and I didn't want her to start spreading shit around.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, so you're admitting to it, then?”

“No!” Harry shouted; a bit louder than he meant to. “I mean yes, I talked to her, but none of what she told you is true.” You rolled your eyes, still not convinced. “I don't get how you believed her though. What, some girl comes up to you like “hey, sorry to break it to you but your boyfriend is a cheater”, and you just believe her? Is that really how little you trusted me? I mean, fuck Y/N…”

“That is not how it happened, asshole.” You responded defensively. “I overheard her talk with her friend, so I butted in on their conversation. I pretended I was just a fan of yours and asked her to give me the scoop. She got all haughty and told me everything, including the juicy bits.”

“What juicy bits? There were no juicy bits…” He brought his fingers to his eyes and rubbed them ferociously. His anguish was evidenced by the tic. “Why didn't you ask me? Couldn't you just make a scene? Slap me? Call me names? I mean, shit… If you had asked me I would have explained myself and all this shit would have been avoided. But no, of course you couldn't just ask. You had to break up with me through a text out of the blue, saying you liked someone else and leave me thinking you were in love with fucking Niall or some shit.”

“You thought I was in love with Niall? Are you actually insane?”

“Is it really so far-fetched? I mean, you two are always together, and when you're skating he's always holding you and touching you and whatnot. I always thought he was a bit too handsy with you, so it wasn't hard to assume...”

“Harry… Niall is my best friend.”

“What are you trying to say, then? That nothing happened between you two? Even in the past few weeks, whenever I would ask you something, you would always be like, “Oh, I was just with Niall doing this or that”. It was like- like you were rubbing it in my face.” You felt glad that Harry was finally speaking up and expressing his feelings, even if his words were still tinged with bitterness. “I went crazy on Tuesday when you told me he was waiting for you in the car. Just the thought of him taking you home and touching you like I used to made me so... resentful, I guess that’d be the best word to describe it. I wanted to get even with you. To make you feel used in the same way I did. To prove to you that I was better and that you had made the wrong choice by picking him. I wanted to give you a taste of what it was like and then take it away. Even worse, I wanted you to feel guilty about cheating on him, without any real gratification to back it up.”

You exhaled in disbelief, shaking your head. “So that's what that thing on Tuesday was about? It was revenge ‘cause you thought I had left you to go be with Niall? Christ, Harry… I never imagined you'd think it was him, much less that you’d care if it was.” You paused, taking a deep breath before telling him the whole truth. “I only said I liked someone ‘cause I thought getting dumped would hit you harder if you felt like you were easy to replace. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing you had hurt me, so figured if you thought I wasn't that into you, I'd have the upper hand in some way.”

“Fuck, Y/N…You really fucking crushed my heart that day. I've never felt more miserable in my life.”

“It was your fault for having conversations with other girls behind my back. And just to get things straight, even if it was just sexting and you had no intentions of doing anything, that still counts as cheating and it's enough reason for me to be glad I ended things with you.”

“I told you already, I never sexted with her. There was only one reason why we were talking and that was because I was going to buy something for you.”

“What-” You choked momentarily. “What are you referring to?”

“Your coach said you needed to get a replacement for something. Something you didn't want to ask your mom money for because she had just bought you a new outfit for the competition.” You blinked twice, as recollections prior to that day began to flood back to you. “Do you remember now?”

“What, you mean like the new blades for my skates?” There was an urgent expression on Harry's face, as well as a look of impending madness in his eyes. He nodded his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you notice her skates?”

“No, not really.” You replied honestly. You supposed that your indescribable rage at the time toward her and your ex-boyfriend might have prevented you from noticing that minor detail, but so what? Why was that relevant?

“She was wearing Riedells, but she used to wear Jacksons, the exact same model you have.”

“Okay…?”

His hands touched your arms as he came closer. “She added me on Instagram, and I saw that she was selling her old skate blades for a good price. She had to get new boots and ended up changing brands, so she opted to get new blades too.” You were a bit baffled, but nevertheless interested in seeing where he was going with this. “The point is she was looking to sell her Jackson blades second-hand, and I was going get them ‘cause they were practically new, and even had that cool purple finish you liked and all that. The so-called nudes you thought she was sending me were actually pictures of her skates because I wanted to make sure everything was in good shape before I bought it.”

His revelation shocked you to your core, leaving you shaking your head in bewilderment. “Why in the world would you do that?”

He locked his wide-eyed gaze on yours, as if the answer should be evident. “‘Cause your crusty, old-ass blades were holding you back! You were off the ice sharpening them every 10 minutes. Everyone could tell. Even your coach kept pointing it out.”

“Yeah but why would you do something like that behind my back?”

“Because you would have thrown a fit if I told you beforehand. You would have never let me get them even if it was a good deal.” He took his phone out of his coat pocket and started fiddling with it as he spoke. “Here. Just for the sake of transparency, I'd like you to read the whole thing. That way you can get rid of any suspicions you might still have.” After some scrolling, he found the old conversation, opened it, passed the phone to your hands and waited.

His body language indicated that he was impatient for you to finish reading, but he gave you some time to do so. “Are you done?” He inquired as soon as you stared at him. Face now dotted in tears from regret upon realizing he was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry, I-” Your tone was broken. The moment after you handed back the phone, you practically collapsed to the ground, shielding your eyes with your hands to try to contain your tears. “I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions based on what that girl told me... she was lying and I- I fell for it like an idiot when I should have known better. You were my boyfriend, and I- I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I should have confronted you and asked for an explanation instead of just breaking up with you without telling you the real reason why.”

“Baby, hey…” Harry knelt beside you and supported your back, refusing to let you sit on the street floor. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We're talking. There's no need to be sad about it now. Come on, let's sit on a bench or something.” You stood up after saying yes with your head. As Harry sat beside you, his hand clutched yours. He touched it lovingly before and after he began speaking, “I'm really sorry too... for being too proud to question you about it. After your text, I kind of just assumed you had been using me to make Niall jealous and stuff. It made me feel stupid, which is why I didn't initially intervene when our coach messed up your practice. You were right, I could have said something, but as childish as it sounds, I saw that as a way to get back at the two of you.”

“I suppose we were both idiots, right?” You asked, turning your head to face him with a sniffle. “We’ve ruined something good just because we were too scared to speak of it.”

He chuckled briefly, almost painfully. “Yeah, I guess so…” His gaze paused on his feet for a moment before returning to you. “We could still um... try, if you want to.”

You sniffled once more, this time with a glimmer of hope. “Try?”

“Yeah, to get back together. If you wanted to, I can't think of any reason why we shouldn't.”

Your mind wandered for a moment. There was something missing from the proposal. Your heart liked it, but something more was needed. “Do you even like me, or are you saying that just because it feels like the right thing to do?”

“Do I like you? Y/N, I love you.” It was Harry's hands that lifted your face off the floor, so you had to look him in the eyes. Those dazzling, bright green eyes of his. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do, quite a lot…” With a big smile on his face, Harry brought his gaze to your lips, a silent warning of what was coming next. It was a beautiful moment, but the brat in you couldn't resist, “…considering Niall is still unavailable and all…”

Harry's fingers wrapped around your jaw and squeezed your cheeks a little. “Not funny.” His lips touched yours.

Your lips touched his. “A little funny.”

“Don’t upset me.”

“Why?” You nipped his lower lip. “What are you going to do, Harry?”

“It’s dirty...”

“Now I really want to know.”

He flashed a sly smile, then leaned over and touched your ear with his lips. “I’m going to take you home with me and have you make up for all the time you made me go without that mouth.” Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he had said, and once you finally let it out, it came out as a whimper. His hand squeezed your thigh in response. “Gonna lick you too... make you cum… how does that sound, princess?”

A blur filled the distance between the bar and Harry's rented flat. The only thing you could recall was the warm dampness of his mouth stealing kisses from yours as he took your hand and led you there.

There were also reminiscences of kissing at the front door, in the hallway, on the bedroom wall, and finally on the bed, where you hurriedly undressed one another out of an intense desire to see and touch again.

Harry's eyes were filled with hunger. It was not surprising that a few moments later you were sprawled across the bedding, with a very hungry mouth lapping at the space between your spread-out legs. “You love it when I bury my face in your pussy like this, don’t you? Your thighs are shaking so much…”

“Can you really blame me? You're- ngh, so good.”

“Mmm, baby... when you're this tasty and creamy, it really isn't difficult. I could lick you around here all day…” He gave your pussy a thorough, slow lick, his green eyes fixed on yours. “Maybe I will,”

Holding his hair a little tighter, you let out a panting breath. “I think I'd cum a lot.”

“Mhm, you’d look so cute cumming in my mouth…” He lowered his head once more, this time offering not only his tongue but also some suction. “Are you gonna cum in my mouth, Y/N? Gonna let me lick it all up?” That was his final set of questions before he went down with the intent of not coming back up until he got what he wanted. From there, the rise was quick and easy. Within a minute or so, you were whining loudly and shaking all over.

“Mm-hmm… ah, mm… I'm gonna cum in your mouth. I’m gonna come in your- I’m gonna-” You muttered as you got closer and closer, until finally, that nice, warm feeling swept through your entire body, causing it to writhe on the bed.

Harry still licked you for a while longer, moaning at the taste on his tongue and mumbling something about how hot and wet it was. He was having fun, so you let him have it until your clit started getting tender, at which point he stopped and crawled up to kiss you.

He was being very loving and gentle, but his reproductive system had other ideas. The heat of his erection touched your skin, reminding you that he was probably already experiencing some discomfort from being so horny, so you told him to be still and got on your belly in between his legs.

“Fuck baby…” He moaned, letting his head fall back as soon as he felt your soft lips close around his tip and sucking it into your mouth. “That’s perfect… nice and slow, suck me just like that...”

You did as he said, not that you had other option because you had a sensitive gag reflex. You could never really get your head to sink all that far. As soon as your lips passed the halfway point in the length, you started to choke on it. You were a little self-conscious about it at first, but Harry had never complained. He loved your blowies regardless, and whenever you asked him if he minded, he always argued that what got him most was watching you suck with eagerness, not how far you down could take it.

Meanwhile, you always used your hand to make up for what was missing and tried to maintain eye contact because you knew he liked to look into your eyes - especially when they started to become watery from the effort.

“Yes. Right there, baby… that feels so good.” He praised when you began alternating between sucking and licking the underside of his glans. You could tell he was getting close. The taste of precum in your mouth had grown stronger, and the muscles at the base were starting to get twitchier. “Keep your eyes open, look at me. Shit, so fucking hot.”

You were expecting him to finish, but instead he breathed in deeply and gently guided your head away. “Did it stop feeling good?”

He smiled broadly and caressed your cheek. “No, it was too good, that's why I stopped you.”

“We didn't have to stop; you know I like how it tastes.”

“I know, but I don't want it to end like this; I want to try other stuff.” He explained as he guided your body up onto the bed and into a  laid down position. His proposition intrigued you, despite the fact you didn't really know what he was plotting. He had your trust, even when he placed himself between your legs and opened them wide. “Do you mind if cum over your pussy while I rub up on you? It's more intimate this way.”

“No, I don't mind. It sounds hot.” You replied with a small chuckle, so he drew closer and rubbed his erection on you - collecting the moisture between your lips and continuing to spread it up from your hole. When he struck your clit, you moaned and let out a small “…that feels good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” His hands held your knees in place while his hips took care of the rest. Harry was right; it felt more intimate like this, especially because your pleasure was being shared rather than taken in turns.

Rubbing up on each other was all you did for some time, until things started to heat up more. Harry re-grabbed his erection, which was growing hotter and harder, and guided it down to your hole. “Don’t panic, I’m not going to push it in.” He warned before you felt his tip nudge your opening, applying just a bit of pressure. “I want you to want me to push it in.”

“God, you’re so hot.” It was impossible not to say it after hearing that sentence come out of his mouth. Especially being aware that his intention wasn't to encourage you to ask right away, but to assure you that he wouldn't do anything unless you wanted him to. He would always respect your limits, no matter how difficult it was for him to refrain from going any further while gently pushing the tip in and out. At times he would groan a little and push a little harder, but then, just when you thought he was about to give in, he would pull out and go back to rubbing around your clit.

“Push it in.” You blurted out suddenly when he was about to do it again. “I can't handle any more of this go, no go situation. It feels really good, but it's driving me insane, and I bet it's driving you insane as well.”

Harry chuckled at your directness. “Yeah, it is a bit. I'm dying to break you in as I’m sure you can tell. I really want to fuck you, but I’ll hold out until-”

“I don't want to wait any longer. We've already waited far too long.”

“Okay, um… if you’re sure you want to...” He smiled and caressed your legs as he spoke. “If we skip on the rubber, is that okay with you? It'll feel better like this… and since it's your first time, I'm guessing you want to know what the real deal feels like. I'll pull out before, so don't worry.”

“Yeah, I think I'd like to know how natural feels first...”

“You'll love it, I'm sure.” He climbed on top of you, seizing the opportunity to love up on you a bit when he felt you place your arms around his back to pull him closer. “I’m going to do the exact same thing we were doing before. The only difference is that this time I'll be pushing to get inside, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, pecking his lips again before saying, “You can go, I’m ready.”

Harry adjusted himself on top of you, getting into position, and then he pushed. Because of the foreplay, he didn't have to press all that hard for you to feel it slip inside. It didn't hurt nearly as much as you presumed. It was only a slight stretching, but it was a really pleasurable fullness. It was like, after all the buildup, your body was relieved to be getting what it had been craving.

Taking one step at a time, Harry’s hips swung back and forth to urge the rest of him inside as well. You were moaning under your breath from his thrusts, even though they were slow and tentative. “Are you alright? Is it hurting?” He asked when he noticed your noises becoming slightly louder.

“No, I'm fine- there’s no pain at all.”

“Good, that's awesome.” He said, clearly pleased with the news. “I'll move slowly at first. As we go, the pace will pick up a little. I promise to be gentle but let me know if you're uncomfortable with anything.”

“Okay but don't worry too much, I'm really enjoying it.”

“What if I do this?” As he asked the question, he moved his hips so that his tip was aligned with the inside spot his fingers always searched for.

“Oh- Mhm, that’s good.” It really was. It felt amazing- to be this close and full and have Harry holding you and grunting right next to your ear, all because your pussy was warm and making him feel good.

He began moving more freely once he sensed you letting go a little more. The sound of his hips slamming into yours was filthy, as were the sobs of pleasure coming from your mouths at every snap. “Fuck baby, you feel incredible around me.” Harry purred, “I'm glad we skipped the condom but being this close to you is driving my dick crazy. You're making it really hard for me not to-”

“It’s okay if you do, I don’t mind.”

You felt Harry’s head shake in response. “You before me.” He stated firmly, like that was an important criterion for him. His lips brushed up against your collarbone, then up to kiss your neck and your ear. “I’ll give you my dick all night if I have to. I don’t care how long it takes- you’ll cum on it.” He changed positions slightly and then, after checking his mouth for spit, lowered his hand and said, “…Perhaps a little extra would help-” before you felt his thumb start rubbing over your clit.

Your reaction was immediate – you twitched on the bed and made an obscene sound. Harry’s hips and thumb sped up in response to your moaning. “That's it, baby. Moan- show me what feels good.”

“Please nghh… I wanna cum, make me cum.”

“Fuck me, your pussy’s perfect.” By how tightly Harry’s other hand gripped your flesh, you could tell he was holding back not to burst. He usually held up well, but the time you guys had spent fondling had clearly affected him as much as it had you - not to mention the extra thrill of trying something new. “Come on baby, let’s go… just focus on the pleasure… think of how full you are-”

A moan and tremor accompanied your positive response to his words. “Mhm, that's me. You're full of me. It’s my dick inside you, making you feel good,” More spit was added to his hand, intensifying the sensations on your clit. “And that’s me here too… you can feel it, can’t you baby? Yeah, I know… do you like when I flick your little clit like that? It’s so wet… I bet it feels so good.”

Your unconscious was gripped by Harry’s words, that were forcing your mind to hone in on exactly what he was saying. “Oh my god,” You sobbed out loud as you began to feel your senses heighten beyond control and then, within mere seconds, your entire body was enveloped in a strong, warm sensation of pleasure all over again.

“Fuck- that’s right, baby. Cum for me- wanna feel you on my- Shit. Oh, fuck-” He pulled out at the last second – grunting as he jerked himself into spurting thick white cream over your clit and his thumb, that was still flicking over it to finish you off. “…Fuck yess.” That was his last growl, uttered once he started rubbing his dick on you again. His hand milked it down to the last drop, letting it sprinkle all over your swollen pussy lips.

Right after he finished, you looked into his eyes, and they were glowing. A big smile engulfed his face as he burst into laughter. His laugh was effervescent and contagious. You couldn't resist the urge to join him since the oxytocin rush was making you want to giggle as well.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m okay. I promise.”

“Good, that's what I was most concerned about.” He explained as he stood up. “Let me just get something to clean you up while we unwind, okay? We made quite a mess.”

“Yeah, okay- thank you.” In an instant, Harry left the room and came back carrying a towel that had been soaked in hot water. He sat at your feet and began cleaning you gently. You smiled as you watched him. “Was it good for you?”

He returned your smile. “It was you, so… how could it not be good? It was like, way better than good… but uh, I want to know from your perspective. How did you like it?”

“It was perfect- everything was. Honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect. I don't think many girls have a first time that’s this nice.” You tensed a little when you saw him inspect your hole; he touched it with his fingers and opened it to look. You had no idea what he was looking for, but you guessed he was just curious to see what had changed. “Am I bleeding?”

“Not that I can see, no. I was a little worried because I thought I might have been too rough. I don’t know, I wasn't planning on doing this today, but it happened and…” He paused, then knelt on the bed and kissed the area between your legs softly. They were appreciative kisses. “I guess I just want to make sure that you're okay and happy with how it went.”

Your fingers stroked his hair as he continued to kiss you. His eyes locked on yours. “I wasn’t expecting it to happen today either, but I'm happy it did, and I’m not saying it just for the sake of saying it. It was really perfect and no, not rough at all. It was really good... and special, like you wanted.” The sparkle in his eyes suggested how pleased he was to hear those words come from your mouth. “I’m really, really happy that it was you.”

“I’m really, really fucking happy that it was me too.”

taglist: @victoria-styles

#harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #hockey!harry #hockey harry #breaking the ice #purplekiwis #harry styles exes to lovers #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles one shot #hockeyplayer!harry #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fics #harry styles imagines #nhl!harry #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fluff

[kanmom51]

JM ‘FACE’ Music Show Promotions Sketch 

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

So yeah, yesterday just 4 days before JK's single Seven is about to land, after JK's concept photos and clip were released showing us a clear bias and after the BTS book pages about Jikook's Tokyo trip surfaced, surprisingly (or not so much) this BTB was released.

Cannot help but wonder if this was a scheduled release or one of those pieces of content they had waiting in the vault to release at some point, not necessarily yesterday.

Not that I am complaining that we get more JM content, not at all, it's just the timing that feels a little sus to me is all. You know, with the heavy on Yoonmin and little Jihope we got there.

And again, let me make myself clear here. I'm not complaining us getting the content. Both members did visit JM on set to support him and it's great to see this in the content. It's the timing, the editing and on top of that, what we didn't get in past BTB that has me a little on edge.

So, Suga, as we know, came to visit JM on set.

To support him on his first show.

But this.

What did Yoongi mean by this?

"And to build up a good reputation of us".

It's not about JM's performance, it comes straight after he says the reason he came was it was JM's first performance. This is another reason he came - build up good reputation...?

To show they are supporting each other?

Was this said seriously or jokingly?

I'm still not understanding it.

I do have thoughts as to what he meant by it, and I wouldn't put it by him to mean that too, but still hoping it's not that.

Someone else also knows that, I can assure you. Same someone that found his way, with or without the company's approval (let's be honest here, it's without their approval and his way of kicking back) of supporting and promoting JM as publicly and as loudly as he could.

Same person that made a point to comment and let us know on JM's live after his last performance that he did want to come and see JM while recording.

And then we have this:

Yes, this is me bitching. I decided to get all of the shit out of the way before I get to the positive.

"Suga who knows Jimin better than anyone when it comes to performing"? Really? Pushing the Yoonmin a little much aren't we?

He knows him better than Hobi when it comes to performing?

Actual dance leader.

He knows him better than JK when it comes to performing?

The man that literally said this:

But seriously, this is the person that spent hours on end practicing with JM. The person that seeks him out on stage. The person that knows his every move, knows when he's in pain, knows when he is struggling.

Yeah, no matter which what way you spin it, Yoongi is not the one "who knows Jimin better than anyone when it comes to performing".

Wait, be patient with me. I have one more little thing I have to vent about before moving on.

This:

I can only imagine the talk down his bf gave him at home after this. "We're all grown ups, what are you doing?..."

Just like here:

Start at 0:49 seconds. JK talking about JM's live, not listening to Unholy.

I'm with you on this JK.

The need to apologize or pre-warn fans about a little touchy choreography with a woman, god forbid (oh, and btw, in the Korean side of this choreo the men were not touching JM, cause that's way worse, right?).

This is something I would love JM to get over, grow out of, but to tell you the truth, not holding my breath.

Ok, now that all my complaining is done with, let's move on to the fun part.

Now is the time to appreciate the 2 hyungs who came to support him. Yoongi for his first recording and Hobi for the last show.

Hobi's letter. That man is the sweetest man ever. I love him so much and miss him terribly. Can't even imagine how much JM and JK are missing him (I'm gonna add Tae here too, their bond is really underestimated).

And JM's reaction to it all. Priceless. Man cannot allow himself to get emotional on camera. The level of deflecting going on, lol.

We don't see too much of the work process but it's clear that JM pushes himself, most likely too hard (time to mention once again the time restraints that had him over exerting himself). And by the end of it you can see that his chronic pain is playing up, with the visible taping on his arm and shoulder.

I actually think it was way worse. He was REALLY suffering.

Do you notice what he's doing there with his left arm?

😭😭

The level of dedication and work ethic...

Man is absolutely stunning.

And an angel to top it off.

I truly love this young man.

Whoever gets to be with him has won the lottery.

Oh wait, we already have a lottery winner.

#Jimin #JM #JM Face #JM Like crazy #JM SMF pt. 2 #JM BTB

[arachine]

+ note: just a little concept that i wanna write a full-fledged piece for. if this gets any positive traction, then i’ll definitely be writing it soon (the idea was for eddie but now ‘m thinking about steve! >.<)

+ warnings: hybrid! reader

okay…but what if one of the things that came out of the gate from the upside down was kitty! reader? essentially, nobody really knows where she came from, all they know is that she’s seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and that she looks like a harmless little thing. 

the gang are the first to find her, and they eventually take her in after one too many instances in which she’s clandestinely followed them home. the skeptics of the group are lucas and el: lucas, who thinks she’s gotta personal vendetta against him (he claims she ‘looks at him wrong’), and el, who just senses that there’s something not quite…right. 

obviously, mike being mike, immediately shuts their conspiracies down but it isn’t until one day when they’re all hanging out in his basement when she just…appears. it’s like a little blip, and then there she is, in all her human glory—except, she has ears, and a tail, and…she’s naked. of course everyone loses their shit because, jesus, they’d been doting on her this entire time! petting her, sharing secrets, cuddling with her—washing her. 

mike, lucas, and dustin are just in complete and utter shock, but max and eleven are the first to act quick and get her into the basement’s bathroom. 

“mike, stop staring! clothes, now!” max screams before consecutively smacking each of them in the back of their heads. 

when she’s all covered up and everyone’s settled down, they start asking questions. but to their disappointment, she’s just barely able to verbalize or communicate anything of significance. she can say small phrases like: ‘i love you’ , ‘hi’ , ‘good’ and ‘bad’—mostly because that’s what’s been repeated to her in her kitty form—but it’s not enough to answer their ever-growing questions.

a few days pass, and then a few weeks, months, and then two whole years. by then, they’ve grown accustomed to her human form, and they even learned how to keep her a secret (aside from finally introducing her to the older crew). the six of them would intermittently take turns hiding reader at their houses, and each and every rotation was different. 

in the beginning, during mike’s rotation, he focused on improving her speech. first, it was the abc’s. then it was a few words, phrases, some flashcards here and there—and then it was children’s books, and poems and writing her name. after a while she’d become fully proficient in the english language and all it’s craziness.

everyone equally put just as much effort into teaching her, though. max and eleven loved to dress her up and paint her nails, dustin taught her (well, attempted to) math—but she didn’t quite enjoy it—lucas introduced her to music, and will always played with her in her kitty form. 

life as a kitty was perfect, content. she’d been introduced to, kissed on, hugged on, and cuddled by just about everyone and anyone who was of any importance to the group. 

she’d already known and grown used to steve, robin, nancy and jonathan…but there was still somebody she hadn’t met yet—somebody whose name she had become quite familiar with, despite not ever seeing them. 

-

“ah, so you must be…wait, don’t tell me,” the long haired boy presses his lips together, “—the little kitty i’ve been hearing so much about.” he watches with amusement as the hybrid cowers behind mike, her ears shooting up animatedly. 

“why so shy? i don’t bite…i mean unless you want me t–“ robin smacks his arm, “don’t be weird,” she scoffs, “yeah, don’t be weird,” steve rolls his eyes playfully. 

the kitten studies him, creeps out real slow and circles him as if he were prey. he’s silent, and trying so very hard to hold his breath. he thinks that if he breathes—makes so much as a single move, she’ll become disinterested in him. so, he stands there, waiting. face locked but eyes trained, following all over her movements.

when she suddenly appears right next to his face, he thinks he’s done for. but to his surprise, he’s greeted with something wet and warm. she’d licked him. laid a log stripe of saliva smack dab on the center of his cheek. everyone gasps in horror, their eyes scanning eddie’s face for any signs of disgust or discomfort. but there are no signs, just a very shocked, very stunned, blushing eddie.

“s-she hasn’t done that in ages, i don’t know why she did that—why did you do that?” mike tries to pull her away but she swats him to the side with the force of her tail.

her face is still centimeters away from his, but now she stands directly in front of him. if he moved any closer, the tips of their noses would meet.

“hi, eddie,” she beams, a faint purr following suit. 

“hi, (name),” he stutters. this is when he realizes something: that he’d be wholly, utterly, and everlastingly, wrapped around her finger. 

© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x y/n fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader fluff #concepts

[kitkatscabinet]

your hurts are my hurts

Osferth x reader

Summary: Your cockhead soulmate gets himself hurt badly and you are forced to acknowledge something.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: reader is a few years older than Osferth. First soulmate au, i actually enjoyed this far more than I thought I would.

The concept of soulmates was something you had always been sceptical about in your youth. Both the Danes and the Saxons had different opinions as to their origins but it almost always came down to being a gift from some god.

You had always been inclined to believe it was a heap of shit, there was no way that all the 'in love' couples you had been exposed to were all soulmates. Nor were you convinced everybody had one. You definitely didn't seem to. You had no words, no timer, no vision issues or any of the other supposed bullshit quirks that indicated you were fated to love one other person.

Yet at seven years old you felt something for the first time. You had been laying in bed on the cusp of sleep only to be assaulted by the intense pain of a stubbed toe. Only, you could not have possibly been the own source of your pain.

From there it kept happening. Knicks, presumably from a blade littered your fingers, and sudden headaches, scratches and bruises that you had not been caused appeared on your skin.

By ten years old you now firmly believed in soulmates, not only that, but you hated yours. Because somehow you had been cursed with the clumsiest, most injury prone fucker alive. A shit soulmate, and a shit soulbond, you hated whatever god(s?) existed.

It had gotten past the point of small hurts and inconveniences when you had joined Uhtred's household guard. An unexpected pain emanating from the fingers of your sword hand had almost cost you your head.

When you had ended up surviving the battle only to notice what was clearly a cut from book pages you could have exploded into a ball of flames. It was then that you vowed you would punch your soulmate in the face first chance you got, even if it would ultimately hurt you too. Your lord and Finan on the other hand had found the whole debacle particularly hilarious until you had set upon them with the intent to maim.

Distantly you supposed you'd probably dished out as good as you got over the years. Sihtric outright claimed you were worse. Because for all the small hurts and inconveniences you had been awarded you had in turn gifted a knife to the thigh once. By far the worst thing to happen to either of you over the years, a fact that would mostly stymie your anger when remembered.

Still, your soulmate had almost gotten the both of you killed with a fucking piece of parchment, and you would not be quick to forget.

You continued to gain a few more injuries here and there over the years, both your own making and clumsy soulmates but you were still no closer to finding them.

That was until you stumbled across Finan and Clapa beating the newest member of Uhtred's house hold guard into the ground. Stopping you could only watch on in growing dismay as every hit you watched the morose monk receive would light up in corresponding pain on your own body.

Your feet were moving before you could stop yourself, "aw come on Finan, don't you think the poor baby monk has had enough for today?" You had tried to keep your tone light, but your aching and no doubt bruised back made it slightly difficult. Finan moved to protest but Clapa must have seen the promise of death in your eyes and was quick to usher the Irish man away.

With the confirmation that you would not be spending the rest of the day feeling your soulmate get pummeled into the ground, you were quick to swivel and make your escape.

"Wait!" the boy yelled and you forced down the scream of irritation. Turning your head your raised your brows in a gesture of what? "Thank you, I don't believe I would have been able to take much more training today" he thanked you a little glumly.

"You can thank me by not being shit, hurry up and learn to fight for both of our sakes," was all you said in reply before striding off to find the nearest bed.

The next months were nothing short of torturous, you were in near-constant pain and covered in bruises. Your Lord had definitely noticed the connection, and Finan seemed to realise but the baby monk was still completely unaware. With how pissed off you were at Osferth's incompetence you didn't particularly feel like letting him in on the secret, not when it was so blatantly obvious to almost everyone else.

The ex-monk had even heard about the wound to the thigh you had received and still not drawn the connection when he mentioned his own. The poor thing was hopeless and although you knew it was somewhat nasty of you, you weren't inclined to fill him in. Even if you had heard the longing in his voice as he discussed his desire to meet the soulmate he at least knew existed.

Unfortunately, you were forced to the breaking point much earlier than you would have cared for. Nobody had needed to hunt you down with the news that Osferth had been injured badly in the latest battle, you had known from the moment it happened. And for the first time, your irritation and pain were second only to your sheer panic.

Your head was bleeding profusely, as was your abdomen and despite the pain, you couldn't stop your frantic movements as you searched for your soulmate with a growing lump in your throat.

It is the sound of Sihtric's yell for your lord that saves your time and you are quick to join them on their journey to see Osferth steadfastly ignoring their looks of concern and surprise. You had barely set your sights on your soulmate before you were letting out an annoyed groan, completely cutting off your Lord mid-sentence.

"Can you stop trying to kill me baby monk?" there is a stunned silence as all parties process what you had just said, eyes flickering back and forth between the prone Osferth and your form that was starting to tilt sideways into your Lord's support.

Osferth is so dumbfounded that he can't speak, mouth agape and pain forgotten as he tried to discern if he was dreaming or not. Finan let out an excited whoop, clapping Osferth aggressively on the shoulder before quickly apologising at the dual groans that came from shared jostled injuries. The boys continued their jeering and staring as you watched Osferth redden considerably, mouth opening and closing as he stared at you with a reverence that made your skin tingle.

Despite there being practically no space on the cot Osferth was laid upon you still meandered over to claim your spot next to him. You bark at Finan to fix you before laying down and hooking a leg and arm gently over Osferth. Completely preventing an escape he wasn't even capable of committing.

Osferth went so red at the action that you could actually feel the heat emanating off his cheeks. He stuttered out that this was wildly inappropriate only to receive your hand to his mouth.

"Shhhh. Sleepy time. Besides my soulmate owes me this after all the bruises, cuts and near deaths you've given them." As predicted, playing the soulmate card was all you needed to shut up the poor flustered boy.

Closing your eyes you burrowed as closely into his side as was comfortable and allowed yourself to relish in the feel of him against you. The feel of his breath and heartbeat pounding furiously in your ear. As you drifted off into an exhausted slumber you couldn't stop the smile that formed as you felt arms wrap around you in turn, awed voice whispering how blessed he was into your ear and lulling you to sleep.

TAGLIST: @thelittleswanao3 @eudximoniakr @kaitieskidmore1

#osferth #osferth x reader #the last kingdom #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom osferth

[alieinthemorning]

May I Have This Chance [Ace Trappola]

Content: Ace is in Love Love, Fluff, Weddings, Glorious Masquerade Event, Swearing

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

He wasn’t jealous.

There was no way he was jealous.

There was absolutely positively no way that he was jealous that Deuce danced with you at the fancy smancy masquerade, while he was left in the dust.

Nope, he was totally fine with Juice getting all cozy with you.

Holding you close

Staring into your eyes

Whisper sweet nothings in your ear—

“Arugh! This is bullshit!” He stopped in his tracks, wracking a hand down his face then back up through his hair.

“Fuck it.” He resolved himself to alter his aimless night stroll to seek you out,

but then he realized

that he already had.

Throwing the gate open, he fished his phone out his pocket.

“…What?”

Man, despite the crock of your voice and the obvious displeasure, you sounded heavenly.

“Come outside right now.”

Click

Didn’t even tell him off.

He didn’t blame you, though.

He wasn’t sure if he would answer if you pulled a stunt like this.

…

What a fucking lie.

He would.

You had him wrapped around your finger.

Effortlessly.

“So you just gonna stand there or tell me what’s up?” You said, only a few feet away from him.

He looked up, then back down.

You literally were just in a black robe with those well-worn slippers,

so why the fuck did you look absolutely beautiful.

“Shit—Uh…” He held a hand out. “…d-dance with me.”

It was quiet for a moment, then he heard your slippers cross the grass.

He wanted to screw his eyes shut so badly, but he preserved through it.

Tension that coiled around his person slowly released as your warm hand found his.

“I’d be honored.”

Then everything else came naturally.

Bodies pulled close, foreheads resting against one another.

Secret words passed between one another,

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a while now.”

“So have I. I honestly was disappointed when your name wasn’t called.”

Gazes that held everything and more, so that nothing else outside of it mattered.

Just you and him in a moment of true innocent bliss.

“After all these years, and here you are still getting lost in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes. “As if you don’t like it.”

“Well if I didn’t I wouldn’t have said I do, now would I?” Your curled lips were an invitation to something more than just teasing.

“And now you're stuck with me.”

And who was he to deny the wants of his significant other?

One thought played between the two of you on repeat as your lips connected:

I love you so much.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: version 2.0 update #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader

[bouncybongfairy]

New Type Of Fear Part 3

Donnie x Fem Reader

Summary: Ignoring Splinter's foreshadowing of the dangers that can emerge from Donnie's exposure to bigotry, he sneaks out to visit you on Halloween night.

Word Count: 2.5k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

When all his brothers went to bed, Donnie came out to the table where Splinter was sitting waiting. It was always hard for Donnie to read Splinter with facial expressions alone. He had a very impressive poker face which scared the shit out of Donnie. He pushed his glasses up and approached the wooden table. Splinter was playing with his whiskers, extending his hand out and motioning for Donnie to take a seat. 

“So, It’s come to my attention that you might have a bit of a romantic situation going on away from home, yes?” he asked. 

“Well, I uh- not exactly but I guess.. Yeah,” Donnie sighed, pushing up his glasses. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been sneaking out lately, why is that? A girl?” he asked. 

“I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions,” Donnie said which made Splinter chuckle under his breath. 

“I won’t punish you for feeling something natural. I should be punishing you for going above ground but I understand that it was for a … someone that you care about deeply. I want you to know that I don’t keep you from modern society because I don’t think you can mentally handle it. I understand that out of all my boys you, my Donatello would thrive in a technology-dominated world. It’s dangerous for people like us and you are more than well aware. I know it may feel worth it now, but the risks you’re taking could have consequences that I have no control over,” his voice as usual was calm and stern. 

“I understand,” Donnie said quietly.

“I’m going to leave it at that, I think you’re far too old for a lecture,” Splinter said as stood up from his chair and walked towards his bedroom, “Goodnight son,” he followed. 

Donnie sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. A million thoughts race through his mind all at once. Especially after spending time together in person, the last thing he wanted to do was break things off. Not only that, he knew Splinter wouldn’t say it but his actions were putting everyone at risk. Being with you was so electrifying that it made him physically ill to think about letting what you guys have built go to waste. He obviously knew the concept of love in books and TV but he didn’t realize how different it was when you have it in real life. Seeing you in person just reaffirmed what he felt when he talked with you online. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if you and him didn’t have such a strong and natural connection it would be less painful. He loved how smart and articulate you were with words. When he watched you play in the chess tournament, he admired all your mannerisms; like how you played with your acrylic fingernails while nervously thinking of your next move. Or how you would hold your opponent’s pieces in your hand as they played. He shook his head, almost like he was trying to get you out of his head, and walked over to the fridge. After grabbing a Gatorade, he walked back into the bedroom he shared with his brothers. To his surprise, all his brothers were now awake, sitting or lying on their respectable bunks. 

“Yo, what did sensei want to talk to you about bro? Are you in trouble or something?” Mikey pried. 

“No, he was having complications with one of the new lighting fixtures I installed,” Donnie played it off, he hadn’t told his brothers about you or anything relating to his love life. It’s not like they didn’t have conversations about how they found girls attractive. Mikey seemed to have a new girlfriend every five seconds nowadays but Donnie preferred to keep you to himself. As his three other brothers talk nonsense to each other Donnie lays on his back and hopes he’d dream of you.

It was Friday and you were getting ready for school. It was Halloween unfortunately your school didn’t allow costumes. Even though your mom begged you to be something cuter, you ordered a sea turtle costume to surprise Donnie. Even if you could wear it to school, you wouldn’t want to risk getting it dirty. You texted Donnie last night, asking if you were going to see him tonight which he didn’t respond to. There was a slight feeling in your gut that you were worried because you didn’t get a text. Deciding to ignore that and think more positively, you walk downstairs and start to make your lunch. Your mother was typing away at her computer, working on an article for the publishing company she works at. You could tell she had been up all night. Her bun was so messy it was only holding about 25% of her hair, and her eyes were red from staring at the screen. 

“Hey hun, did you sleep well?” she asked, walking over to the kitchen and starting the tea kettle. 

“Well I did but I can tell you haven’t,” you said handing her a yogurt from the fridge. 

“I know, I just have to get this speech re-written because I’m going to be speaking in front of a panel of sponsors who are looking to recruit a lot of our editors and writers so it’s important that I really set them up tonight,” 

“Wait, so you’re not going to be here tonight?” you asked.

“Yeah but if you need me here honey, I’m sure I can find-” she started.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine, maybe I’ll have one of my girlfriends over after we hang out at Maya’s if that’s okay,” you said, hoping she wouldn’t catch on to your underlying plans. 

“Are you sure? I know I talked about being more present and-” she insisted. 

“Mom, if I was going trick or treating then maybe but I’m just going to Maya’s house for a while then coming home. If you’re feeling guilty all night then I won’t be able to have a good time with my friends,” you said, zipping up your backpack after packing your lunch into it. 

“Okay good, I love you and please just call me if you need me tonight okay? Have a good day at school!” she called out to you as you were walking out the door. 

Part of you felt bad for being so manipulative with your mom, the other half of you was excited to have the house to yourself. While you were riding the subway, you checked your phone and were saddened to see that Donnie still hadn’t texted you back. You typed out a couple of different messages but discarded all of them, not wanting to come across as clingy. Once you got to school it was easy to ignore that, at least for a little while. During lunch, all your friend group could talk about was how excited everyone was for Halloween. All went on and on about their costumes and how desperately they wanted to get good photos. You played along, telling them how excited you were to hang out with them but you knew you’d ditch them the second Donnie texted you. Most of your teachers knew nobody would be paying attention and let everyone just chill. You were now on the subway home, still no text which was now making you frustrated. Why would he feel nervous to tell you he can’t come? Yeah, you would be sad but it’s not like you’re toxic and would be mad at him. There are obviously certain factors of your relationship that weren’t normal and you respected that. After unlocking the door, you slammed it shut out of anger and irritation. You texted him a question mark, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your words. 

Walking into your room, you pull out the plastic package the costume came in and throw it on the bed. Regardless if Donnie was going to text you back, you weren’t going to let him ruin your Halloween. You set your mirror against the wall and grab your make-up case ,flat iron and a couple of other things before sitting down. Normally you would do your usual hair and makeup routine but because you were feeling a little wild you changed everything up. Make certain elements of your make-up bolder; things like darker eyeshadow, brighter blush, lip gloss, and fake eyelashes. Straightening your hair and swooping it to the side. You put the costume on after you were done and checked yourself out in the mirror. The costume was made out of a really soft, blanket type of material. The skirt was a moss green color but the top was a warm brown and underneath was a thin white tutu to give the skirt some shape. The top was that same green color but in the middle was a pale yellow, the back was a corset with a matching yellow ribbon to hold it together. It had a matching beanie that had paws attached to it which you thought were super cute. To top the costume off was a mini backpack that looked like a shell but actually had a zipper. As you started taking pictures in the mirror there was a knock at your bedroom window that nearly gave you a heart attack. You ran over and ripped back the currant and screamed a little when you saw Donnie. You opened the window, it was barely big enough for him to squeeze through. 

“Why haven’t you texted me? I was getting really worried,” you said. 

“Yeah, I’m- I am… Sorry, I just…” he was trailing off and at first you didn’t understand why but then you realized how you must have looked. 

“Sorry this is my Halloween costume, I was just trying it on,” you said crossing your arms. 

“You know I’m not a sea turtle right?” he asked, laughing a little.

“Considering the fact that you ghosted me all day, I don’t think that’s very funny. Especially because I got it to surprise you,” you said, sitting on the bed. 

“Okay yes, I’m sorry I should have addressed that first. It was insensitive of me not to joke about that. I think you look beautiful and the fact that you specifically picked out a costume with me in mind makes me feel so valued and bashful. The reason I didn’t text you is because my dad found out about me sneaking out. I didn’t want my digital footprint to get me caught,” he said sitting next to you. His weight caused the bed to sink down, causing you to tip into him. 

“I’m sorry I know that it’s not easy for you to meet face-to-face. I was just worried that you were ghosting me, did you get in trouble for sneaking out?” you asked. 

“No. His approach was more subtle, he understands the nature of why I’m seeing you but he doesn’t think us being together as... plausible,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. 

“What does that mean for us?” you asked softly. 

“I’ve been trying to figure it out,” he said, letting his hands hang in his lap. 

“Are we fighting for a lost cause?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he inquired. 

“Like, are we going to be able to be together? Things like a wedding and kids? I don’t know, like normal milestones,” you explained.

“That’s not even a guarantee when in a conventional relationship,” he said, wrapping his arm around you. 

“I never thought about it like that,” you said, holding his hand that was draping over your shoulder. 

After that, the mood definitely began to lighten. You were so excited to see him again, thinking that there was a chance it may be over between the two of you. Now you were just hanging out in your room, watching different Halloween movies. You were amused by Donnie’s reaction, he would laugh so hard at the cheesy jokes which humored you. When it got to the scene where kids began trick or treating, he asked you what that was. At first, you were shocked but then remembering his upbringing you realized that of course he would have never done that. You explained how children go door to door collecting candy for the night while they wear costumes of characters they like. Adding in other personal experiences you had with the tradition. He talked about how he wished he could have done things like that with his brothers. You proposed the idea of going out tonight but he shut that down immediately. 

“It’ll be dark and you can just say that you’re wearing a costume,” you said. 

“You’re a very intelligent girl and I know that you know the likelihood of that plan succeeding is less than 10%,” he said. 

“Well, even if we don’t go door to door let’s at least go pick up some food. That way you can at least go outside and see the vibe?" At this point you were begging, “Please, it’s already dark out and I’ll call in so we just have to pick it up. We don’t have to go inside anywhere and we can take the back way of you want,” you pleaded.

At first, he was completely against it, but when you reminded him that nothing came of him walking you home from the chess tournament he began to see things your way. The only condition was that he wanted Pizza which you didn’t object to. When Donnie had a hoodie on, he honestly just looked like a really tall guy. It was nice to see his face light up as you passed by neighborhoods that were completely immersed in everything Halloween. He had to keep his hands in his pockets but you coiled your arm around his. Every once and a while he would look down to make sure you were okay which made you blush. Once you got back home, you were both sitting on the floor and started eating. He as usual was downing everything so fast, you were surprised he didn’t choke. Him holding a two liter was like you holding a 16oz bottle. He wiped his mouth and looked over, pushing up his glasses. 

“I know this is out of the blue but, thank you so much for existing. You mean so much to me and I-I really love you,” he said right as you took a big bite of cheese pizza that trailed on your chin as you pulled the slice away from your mouth. After you both let out a couple laughs you responded, 

“I love you too, I'm really happy that the universe brought us together,” you said. 

“Yeah if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have known trick or treating was a real thing. Or that anyone could beat me in chess, even though you’re still learning,” he joked. 

“Oh yeah? Was I still just learning when you watched me win that tournament?” you asked.

“All I can say is if I was there, I would have been the winner,” he boasted playfully. 

“In your dreams,” you scoffed, scooting closer to him; ending up falling into a food coma while watching Halloween Town.

#donatello tmnt fanfiction #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #donnie tmnt #donnie x y/n #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse donnie #bayverse turtles #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt donatello #fluff fanfiction #fanfic writing

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I’m the one who asked about the flashback for Ran! Just sending it back as you asked :) I’m so excited to see what you came up with, I was racking my brain for something and I couldn’t come up with an exact scenario. I just love the way you write his raw emotions and how much he loves the reader, and is tortured by what happened to her, and them suffering through the aftermath even though Mikey’s gone.

I actually found a plot point I missed when reviewing the old parts of the story! FLASHBACK FLASH BACK (you'll get another "flashback" after this one that rounds them out. I'm taking this concept and running with it.)

Hand Her Over (Part 7 - A FLASHBACK): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: calculating...

tw: flashback, angst, drinking

masterlis

Hand Her Over Megapost

The cap to the wine bottle comes undone with a loud pop. Ran tilts the glass just so, intent on catching every single drop left in the almost empty bottle. He's not sure when he started drinking again, but on nights like these, he doesn't give a shit.

No, he knows when he started drinking again. He remembers the exact moment the bottle reappeared in the fridge. That morning, he found you standing in the front yard, letting the freezing breeze and snow into the foyer.

"Sleepwalking," Ran had said at the time, excusing your behavior as a machination of your nightmares. He wasn't sure how long you'd been out there or how many times you'd done something like this. But it startled the shit out of him so bad he had to drink to ease his nerves.

Ran waits for some semblance of the dulling effect to take over. He needed to forget how you stood there, feet covered in snow, cheeks flushed bright red, and shivering. You'd been so cold and--

Ran's grip on the bottle falters. He watches in slow motion as the bottle crashes to the floor, resulting in shards of glass skittering about the wine-slicked tile. Ran feels his head loll, and he stares at the mess, wondering how he'd pick it up now. His feet are bare, too.

You come ambling toward the kitchen moments later, your eyes taking in the scene with alarm. But you don't say anything. Well, save a soft "ow".

"Shit," Ran bites out, finally reacting to the scene, spurred into action due to your injury.

And that's how things started, isn't it?

He knew Mikey was no good. He knew things had gone too far. He knew... he fucking knew and yet... He hadn't done shit about it until you'd gotten hurt.

"Piece of glass in your foot?" Ran wonders, still stuck to his stance in the middle of it. You nod. Ran picks his way around the mess, narrowly avoiding a shard himself, and scoops you into his arms. His senses are slowly dulling, but he had enough time to get you some help before he crashed.

The trip to the bedroom is short, and Ran sits you on the bed, whispering, "Don't move." You don't, and he pads toward the bathroom where the first aid kit awaits him. As he rifles through the box, memories come back to him of you doing the same thing: patching up his scrapes, putting ice packs on his bruises, disinfecting the scabs and gross knife cuts...

When had he ever done that for you?

Never.

He reappears with tweezers and a few large band aids, placing them on the floor before sitting down. He spots the offender almost instantly, though it's not large. Ran takes the tweezers and gently pulls the shard free without much difficulty. You whimper in pain, but it's momentary. Fingers work at patching your wound up with two band-aids and then Ran pats your leg with as much affection as he can muster.

"All better." The statement is punctuated with a gentle kiss against your ankle, and when he rises, he sees the fat tears that have rolled down your face. You wipe them away just as Ran feels the effects of the wine take hold. Things are a little hazy, but he has just enough strength to put you back in bed comfortably.

"I'm going to pay for this for the rest of my life, aren't I?" he whispers to no one, his mind rolling with scenarios as he stumbles into the recliner nearby.

The world is swimming but Ran grips the edges of the recliner before easing himself into it while gritting his teeth. All of his life he'd been the one to watch as someone else handled the messes, handled the delinquents, handled the repercussions of his own actions. Hell, until he raised his gun and fired six bullets into Mikey's chest, he hadn't handled shit for himself. Not really.

Bonten's undoing came as quickly as Ran had told Mikey to fuck himself, to which Mikey's haunted face replied, "You wife would know something about that, wouldn't she?"

The squeezing in Ran's chest started just as soon as he pulled the trigger, clickclickclickclick-ing until the gun itself was empty, and then some more for good measure. By the time Rindou had found him slumped against the desk beside a very dead Mikey, Ran had fired seven blanks and sixteen shots.

Money had changed hands, faces disappeared, people forgot who they were and where they lived and who Ran was, the news ran only one cycle talking about Mikey's death. The rest had been lost to time. And yet, here he is, sitting and stuck in that same spiral he'd allowed himself to get stuck in.

All for you.

Ran's eyes slide to his prize, your face turned towards him and eyes blinking in the dim light of the bedroom. "Hey," he whispers softly, trying for a gentle smile. "I'm alright. Get some sleep." You continue to stare at him and Ran knows instinctively that he's drunker than he ought to be.

"I'll get off the bottle soon," he murmurs, looking away in shame. "Promise."

You turn over to the other side and sigh but Ran can't bring himself to promise you anything else. He'd already brought so much pain into your life, and here he was, doing it again.

The image of you standing in front yard catches him off guard again. Maybe you were trying to get away from him. You'd walked so far--

Ran looks back over at you and feels the black hole in his chest yawn. It stings. The thought of you trying to escape from him burns like hell and he can't--

Ran stifles a gasp for air.

He can't bear the thought of you trying to leave. You had every right - you really did - to run away and find someone who would make you happy. He wouldn't blame you if you did want a divorce and wanted to leave his name. He killed for you, but that meant nothing in the face of your happiness.

It meant--

Ran's mind slips.

He'd count it all up to his payment for so many years of shit and terror and chaos. Surely--

The black hole opens a little wider and the world tilts.

You would be happy.

Ran grips the chair with both of his arms, hearing Mikey's voice in his ears.

"But you don't really love her, do you?"

I do, he wants to shout back at the ghost, challenging it.

The wine... it's the wine that's addling his mind. He's not normally like this - not so insecure, not so needy, but--

She'd be better off without you.

Ran jolts up and hurries out of the bedroom, running his hands through his hair and feeling the panic rush through his veins. There's only one way, one way to alleviate this.

This crushing guilt, the shame, the damn agony he feels at having to do all of this over and over and over again. Reliving his worst nightmare is like driving a stake through his skull, and he can't fucking take it anymore.

The front door swings wide and Ran bursts through it, his body propelling him to run. The urge rages through him, and his breath comes out in bursts of white air. If he had asthma like Rindou, he'd already be winded, but he's got tears freezing against his cheeks, the wind biting at his skin, and--

Ran comes to a stop at the end of the street.

What the hell is he doing?

He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and sees himself through his neighbor's eyes. Here is Ran Haitani, in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, running in the dead of winter with no shoes on. And he laughs.

Ran laughs and laughs and laughs.

He laughs so hard he has to sit down in the snow and hold his sides like a maniac.

Suddenly, he understands Sanzu. He understands the way he copes with things. He can't run; not now. Not when you're at home, needing protection. Ran ambles back up the driveway, still chuckling to himself out of disappointment more than humor.

He couldn't even outrun his own problems. A shame, he thinks, shutting the front door and latching it. What a shame I've turned out to be.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader

[heavyhitterheaux]

FL CONCEPT : Urban and FL get into a big argument! Maybe he said something jokingly and she took it to heart so she’s really upset and doesn’t speak to him for a whole week 🤭

I’m messy, call me MESSYca 😈

"Bestie, are we still going to Morris Deli?" Urban asked as he poked your cheek, but you immediately rolled your eyes.

"Go with your other bestie since he's the one you always tell everything to anyway."

"Uhh, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, like you don't fucking know." You fired back and Urban threw his hands up in confusion.

"Obviously I don't! Hence, why I'm asking. Don't start this shit again."

"Start what exactly? Go head Urby, Say it."

"HOLDING ONTO SHIT!"

"BECAUSE YOU LIED TO ME LET’S GET THAT PART FUCKING STRAIGHT! And you had the nerve to say the other day when Clay introduced us to the girl he's dating that you hope that I let him have a peaceful relationship and not be on his back all the time and you would be surprised if the relationship lasts for a week."

"I WAS JOKING."

"WELL IT WASNT FUCKING FUNNY BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHY I DO IT AND WHY I'M SO PROTECTIVE OF ALL OF YOU. SO GO BY YOUR FUCKING SELF!"

"Y/N, COME ON! I DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING BY IT."

You simply made your way to walk up the steps as Jack had opened the front door and saw the pissed off look on your face.

"Uh, baby what's wrong?" Jack asked and you simply waved him off and continued walking up the steps and turned to Urban and eyed him.

"You better not be the cause of that. Why is my baby upset?" Jack said to Urban as he pointed towards the steps.

"Umm, you see what had happened was…"

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Uhh she didn't like how I joked about her breaking up Clay and his girl like she used to do all of my other relationships."

"And the dumbass of the year awards goes to…"

"I didn't mean anything by it." Urban quietly said as Jack was trying to think of how he could get you to agree to talk to Urban because he knew for a fact that you were the queen of the silent treatment.

"But you know how she feels about that! She thought that you would never forgive her for doing that even though there were good intentions behind it!"

"Didn't think about that."

"CLEARLY!"

Jack went upstairs to check on you and found you laying down and when you saw him, you immediately got up to hug him.

He simply rubbed small soothing circles on your back as he now heard you crying and waited for you to speak.

"Do you think Clay thinks that I'm going to do the same thing?"

"No, babe. Even though he knows how protective you are, he at least came to us first and told us. He didn't hide it. That's no shade to Urb, but it's the truth."

"I don't want anyone taking advantage of him either. I will literally flip my shit if someone hurts my little baby."

"I know and I'll be right there with you."

"I hope you didn't come up here to convince me to talk to Urby because my answer is no."

"But baby..."

"NO."

It had been an entire week since you spoke to your best friend and he was going through it.

You decided that this had gone on long enough and knocked on his bedroom door.

You heard his voice telling you to come in and when you did he was surprised to see you.

"Y/N…"

"Get your keys, we're going to get food and you're driving. Jack's already downstairs."

"You know I never meant to hurt your feelings and you know how important you are to me. That's not me at all."

"Urby, I'm hungry so I suggest you come on because I will leave you and I love you too. Pay for my food and I just might forgive you."

"At least you didn’t tell me you wanted a Birkin."

"Don't push it Wyatt because I can always change my mind."

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #first lady of pg concepts #nattinatalia

[may-moskowitz]

Could u do smtg with Hawk were chubby reader gets stood up on a date and she's like his BFF and he is really angry about it bc he's secretly n love with her and thinks she can do way better than the guy that stood her up? She/her for reader and happy ending for her and Hawk?

Awh I fucking love this concept🥹

Warnings: self belittling, crying, hawk doing that stupid nostril flare + jaw clench combo

(Unedited!)

Eli barely heard the knock at the door over the heavy rain that had been falling for the last hour. He lazily pulled himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way down the stairs while the knocking continued.

“Jesus… hold your fucking horses I’m coming”

Eli whipped the door open, gaze softening when he realized who was behind the door. Eli’s best friend was stood in front of him, dress soaked and mascara running down her face as she continued to let out quick sobs.

“Aw fuck, c’mere babe.” Eli pulled her inside before closing the door, she immediately pulled him into a hug. He could care less that he was slowly becoming drenched, he’d never seen her this upset so his main concern was who or what did this to her. She cried into his bare chest as he brushed his fingers over her hair doing his best to console her.

“K… c’mon,” he took her hand and led her upstairs to his room to find her something dry to wear, she followed quickly behind him holding tightly onto his fingers.

He opened up his closet and rifled around through his clothes, looking for something for her to throw on. “Here, these should be pretty warm. There’s towels in the bathroom too if you wanna dry off first… shit dude, what the hell happened?” Eli passed her one of his long sleeves and a pair of his pyjama pants.

Reader looked up at him with a pout, taking the clothes from his hands before heading into the bathroom to change. Eli would never pressure her to tell him anything, but something awful happened to her and he was growing more irritated over it by the minute.

While he waited for her to return Eli went back downstairs to grab her a glass of water with extra ice, and two squeezes of kool-aid water enhancer, a very specific combination that she’s been drinking at his house for years. He made his way back upstairs at the sound of the bathroom door opening, meeting her halfway to hand her the glass and gently guide her back to his room by placing his hand on the small of her back. The two sat down on the edge of his bed, Eli waited patiently for some kind of explanation as she took a sip from the cold glass.

Eli just stared at her.

“So… are you ok? I mean, I’ve never seen you this upset and you came into my house drenched with rain so obviously something happened…” Eli began,

“Do you maybe feel like telling me what it was?”

Reader removed the glass from her lips, taking a second to collect herself before telling Eli why she was so hurt.

“You remember how I was supposed to go on that date? With that one really nice guy I told you about?”

He nodded his head,

“He um… well, he stood me up…” Reader began to cry before Eli quickly took hold of her hands.

He ran his fingers over her knuckles as he listened to her quick sobs yet again, tears began to hit the gaps in between their hands.

“Reader,” Eli pulled her against him hoping to comfort her better, “shhhh… shit, I’m so sorry…” Eli kept his arms around her as she completely broke down in his arms, he rested his head against hers as he softly ran his arm up and down her back.

“I- I just don’t understand, Eli,” reader spoke through her broken sobs, “I don’t understand, why can’t I just f-fucking… just be pretty??”

“Hey-” he tried to intervene her self belittling,

“I just want to be pretty Eli! I don’t want to look the way I look, it’s… it’s just not fucking fair!”

Reader was screaming into him now, Eli couldn’t help the way his jaw clenched at her words, with each one his nostrils would flare angrily. He pulled her head from his chest, his hands holding each side carefully.

“Reader, listen to me for Christ sake.” A few sobs still escaped from her lips, Eli gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“The way you look has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you got stood up tonight, you were stood up because some asshole took you for granted and fucked himself big time by skipping out on a girl like you,”

Hawk wasn’t angry with her, he was hurt that she’d say such things about herself. He’s had a crush on her since they were like 10, he’s always seen her for the gorgeous girl that she is. How could anyone ditch reader?

“You, are so beautiful, and I really want you to see that. That asshole doesn’t deserve you, and you? You deserve the whole fucking world, reader…”

Her arms were instantly thrown around him, holding him as close to her as she possibly could. Eli held the back of her head as he gently kissed the side of her head, “and I will always be here to give that to you if nobody else can.” She continued to sob lightly into his shoulder as he began to rock her side to side in his arms. She lifted her head to his ear to quickly whisper the words she felt he’d want to hear,

“I love you so much, Eli Moskowitz… thank you for always being here with me.” He just smiled lightly against her, hoping she meant the same “love” he meant.

➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰

#cobra kai #eli hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #jacob bertrand #eli moskowitz x reader #Eli Moskowitz x chubby reader #fluff