#anyone out there with good memory hooks for the rest of them? lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tawaifeddiediaz · 1 year

Text

acts of service

this is for @bedhadakdiaz because murtasim was simping over meerab and we decided that eddie would do that, too lol. anywho, thank you @eddiediaaz for the beta ily.

[AO3 Link]

Word Count: 4,362 words

The sight in front of him is nothing new.

Eddie steps into his silent home, well past the time he thought he’d be home. Hours later, in fact.

He was supposed to be back by dinner. Instead, a five-alarm fire kept him away from joining the two halves of his heart for the first hot meal they could’ve had together in almost a week.

Opposite shifts are the worst, Eddie thinks to himself as he sets his work bag down by the door, away from the hallway.

There’s only a dim lamp casting its warmth across the living room, but despite that, Eddie thinks he’s walked into the warmest place he’s ever known — almost like the sun beams gently through the cracks and fissures of these walls.

It has nothing to do with the temperature, and everything to do with the house’s occupants. Everywhere Eddie looks, he can see the evidence of a happy day — can feel the contentment in the air. Even without knowing the details, he knows that it’s proof of an evening well spent.

Exhaustion lessens its weight from his bones as he drinks in the familiarity of his home, his gaze searching for everything and nothing in particular as he slips his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack next to Buck’s.

It’s not until then that his gaze lands on the man himself.

Buck lays sprawled out on the couch, back cushions discarded to make space for his broad shoulders, his legs thrown all over the place, snoring lightly. Eddie can’t stop the soft smile that graces his face, even through his exhaustion, and he moves carefully, quietly padding onto the rug with socked feet, his footsteps muffled, unlikely to wake him up.

Chris isn’t too off-base when he says Buck sounds like a tractor when he sleeps sometimes, but for Eddie, the sound is all he can think about whenever the memory of his stillness creeps in. It’s a blessing in disguise after the terrifying days of nothing but utter silence — only the beep of the machines and the hustle of the ICU to keep him company on the days he’d managed to look at Buck through the glass.

Eddie can’t help but smile at the snuffling sounds that leave Buck’s parted mouth, even as he reaches out, bumping the back of a knuckle against his chin to close it gently. It drops back open almost immediately, his nose wrinkling in his sleep and Eddie gives up the fight, not wanting to startle him out of his rest.

His gaze shifts to the strewn blankets around him, instead of over him, the stack of pillows in the corner that have definitely been pulled from the hallway closet without being put away, and the empty bowls neatly stacked on the coffee table, and the two mugs with the dregs of hot chocolate still left in the bottom.

A very good evening, then.

Eddie, even in his delirious state, can vividly picture Buck and Christopher tucked away in their pillow fort, bowls of homemade popcorn and those veggie crisps Buck loves and got Chris hooked on in front of them, mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Pillow forts are surprisingly one thing, at thirteen, that Chris hasn’t grown out of, and Eddie knows that Buck cherishes every moment they aren’t constantly reminded of how old he’s getting, just the same way he is.

Eddie gets that more than anyone — he and Buck even have a look they exchange when Christopher does something that makes him seem too many years old for their sanity.

But nights after these also leave the living room feeling a little lonely, the quiet a little more somber. Eddie guesses that’s why all the reminders from the night are still scattered, so they can delay the inevitable process of their kid growing up for just a few hours longer.

The reminders of it are all around him, but before his tired brain can slip down that slope, Eddie shakes off the thought and refocuses on Buck — who, not only has slept in his makeshift bed without a blanket, but has his whole head hanging off the edge of the pillow, trapped against the backrest in a way that’s sure to give him a crick in his neck come morning.

Buck’s phone is resting haphazardly on his stomach, fingers loosely gripping the top of it, and Eddie knows if he unlocked it, he’d find his chat pulled up.

The thought of someone waiting up for him warms his chilled bones. It’s the confirmation that Buck does the same thing Eddie does when they’re not on shift together that makes Eddie’s heart swell with affection and gratitude.

Slowly, carefully, he slides the phone out from under Buck’s hand, setting it to silent, turning on Do Not Disturb and placing it on the coffee table.

One blanket is crumpled somewhere underneath Buck’s feet, and it takes all of the stealth Eddie possesses to untangle it from Buck’s legs so he doesn’t feel like he’s trapped when he inevitably rolls over in the middle of the night. Quietly, he picks up one of the discarded blankets from the now-demolished pillow fort and drapes it over his best friend carefully.

He debates trying to fix Buck’s head, not wanting to wake him up, but knows that if he sleeps like this, he’s not going to be able to turn his head for at least a week.

Slowly, Eddie reaches forward and cups the back of Buck’s head gingerly, guiding it back onto the pillow. With the other hand, he tilts his head so his neck isn’t hanging at such an awkward angle.

The adjustment means that he’s now facing Eddie, his eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and Eddie feels frozen in place as he watches Buck sleep.

His expression is still smooth and still in slumber, more peaceful than Eddie’s seen him in a while. The slack features make him look lighter, and the snores whistling out of his still-parted mouth make the corners of Eddie’s mouth tip up even further.

Without thinking, Eddie reaches out, unable to stop his fingers from smoothing back a few errant curls from tickling the shell of Buck’s ears, his fingers drifting lightly against the sharp line of his jaw. There’s a sharp inhale of breath, and for a minute, Eddie panics at being caught out like this — looming over Buck, disrupting his sleep, tucking the short strands of his hair as if he has any right to.

Instead, Buck rolls over, inhaling deeply as his cheek comes to rest flat against Eddie’s palm, the hand on top holding his forearm in place.

Miraculously, he doesn’t wake up, only tucking his face tighter against Eddie’s hand, holding him close, and God help him, it’s when he goes to move that Eddie realizes he’s stuck like this.

“Shit,” he mutters quietly to himself, trying to pry his fingers free. Buck frowns slightly before his grip on Eddie’s forearm tightens, and Eddie simply gives up the fight, helpless to do much else than settle next to him.

Careful not to dislodge Buck, Eddie grabs one of the long cushions and sets it on the floor, lowering himself down with a wince as his bones creak. He pushes the coffee table away so he can fit, getting his legs under him. It’s a stretch to keep his arm where Buck is, but it’s not uncomfortable yet — he’s just positioned in a way that he knows he’ll definitely regret come morning.

But right now, all he can think about is the peace on Buck’s face, and how he’d hate to disturb that — he knows that he’ll regret waking him up more than any other ache he’ll have.

Eddie tilts his head onto his outstretched shoulder, mere inches away from Buck, and just…lets himself look.

He’s come to terms with the way his heart beats a symphony of Buck’s name, that the rest of his life is going to be just this — because no one is ever going to match up to what he has with Buck.

He’d tried, of course. He’d gone on date after date, and tried to fill the romance-shaped void in his life, but at the end of the night, he’d end up comparing them to Buck — a comparison that didn’t stop no matter how many dates he went on. After a while, guilt made it too hard to keep trying, so Eddie simply shut the door on it, kindly put his foot down with Tia Pepa, and resolved himself to this life.

But then, Buck did the same thing.

One minute, he’d been going out with Natalia, and the next, he’d stopped bringing up dates and dinners and romance altogether. When Eddie mustered up the courage to ask, Buck had simply said that they were looking for different things, and that he wanted to take a break from dating for a bit.

That’s when things changed again.

The tidal wave of Buck’s affection, even though it’s something Eddie’s been familiar with ever since he met the guy, feels different now. Before, it’d been a constant hum at the back of Eddie’s head, a steadiness that kept him anchored to his reality. Now, it laps closer and closer around Eddie’s ankles thrashing against his legs and begging him to sink down in it until it feels like one more wave could knock the confession from his chest.

Now, the glances between them feel like they have a new weight. Every time Buck walks into this house, there’s a new reluctance to let him leave, to watch him walk out the door even with the surety that he’ll be walking right back in 24 hours later. Every time they sit down to eat together, there’s enough warmth at the table that Eddie sometimes forgets that this isn’t a permanent thing — not yet.

It’s in the way Buck smiles at him, open and vulnerable, and the way he tries his best to wait up for Eddie even if it’s going on two in the morning with no sign of him. It’s in the way Eddie always ends up cooking enough for three, or the way he’s just stopped using certain detergents because they make Buck’s nose itch, or the way his bathroom has three sets of everything — except razors because thankfully Chris doesn’t need those yet — and at least five different hair products that belong specifically to curly hair.

(Hair products that Chris has started using, too, so now the only one in the house who uses the regular, “boring” shampoo is Eddie.)

It’s in the way that the keys on both their key-rings look well-used, or that the hoodie Buck’s wearing right now is Eddie’s, or the locker Eddie used tonight was Buck’s. It’s the way half the appliances in Eddie’s kitchen are bought by Buck to use here, including the fancy air fryer that Christopher uses at least once a day.

It’s…intimate — co-dependent, and more partner-like than Eddie’s ever known. He and Buck are hovering around shoving their relationship that last inch into romantic territory, and they may not be there just yet, but they will be.

Of that much, Eddie’s sure.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when the man he loves more than anything in this world lets out a sharp snort as he turns his nose into Eddie’s wrist, still miraculously asleep, and it’s such a funny sound that Eddie has to bite his lip to keep from laughing in Buck’s face.

With his heart heavy with fondness, Eddie tilts his head so he’s resting more on the couch, supported by the cushion under his arm while his hand rests under Buck’s head.

His eyelids grow heavier as his pulse thumps steadily under the hand Buck’s curled around his wrist.

Quietly, as he sinks into the peace of his home, sleep sweeps him away.

------

The sun wakes him up first.

Instantly, he knows he’s at Eddie’s, because the sun only pierces his eyes first thing in the morning when he’s laid out on the Diaz couch.

The world filters back in bits and pieces. There’s the quiet hum of the fridge, the faint strains of cars driving through the neighborhood, the chirping from that birdfeeder Eddie insisted on keeping even after Buck and Christopher accidentally spilled a can of paint over it, the sharp scent of sandalwood…

The last one makes him pause.

Sandalwood?

Buck cracks his eyes open to a mop of dark hair, the familiar hunched form of his best friend on the floor next to him.

Eddie’s head is resting on the cushion next to Buck, his arm stretched out, bent at the elbow.

It’s then that Buck realizes that the pillow he’s been snuggling into, the one that smells strongly of Eddie’s sandalwood soap, is actually Eddie’s hand, and that his cheek has been pressing into it for God knows how long.

“What the fuck,” he whispers to himself as he scrambles off of him, jerking his head backwards into the backrest of the couch as a pang of guilt slashes through him. He doesn’t even know why, or how Eddie got here, but he looks so curled up on the ground that Buck’s back aches in sympathy.

Eddie’s face is turned upwards, towards Buck as he sleeps on. His jaw is rough with two-day stubble, lower lip pushed out into that slight pout he gets when he’s tired, and he’s breathing slow and deep.

Buck’s heart melts as he takes in this rare sight of Eddie before he puts himself together, sleeping peacefully even in what has to be an uncomfortable position. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks down at Eddie’s hand, which looks bright red from Buck laying on it — presumably all night.

He has no memory of when Eddie got home last night, but the longer he lays here, watching him sleep soundly, the more he thinks it must have been really late if Buck didn’t even realize.

For a minute, he’s confused. Eddie only comes to join him out on the couch if he has a nightmare he can’t calm down, feet padding quietly as he takes a seat next to Buck on the ground. But those mornings, the evidence of his nightmares are written all over him, in the tight, restless line of his jaw and the fragile wrinkles along his forehead as he frowns at whatever memory he’s seeing.

There’s no sign of that on his face as far as Buck can see, only the soft breaths of a man well into slumber. Even his clothes are the ones from last night, not his usual pajamas. He’s in jeans, and Eddie hates sleeping in jeans.

He spots his phone on the coffee table just as his fingers curl in the thick blanket that Eddie must’ve laid over him, because he doesn’t remember going to sleep with it.

The mental image of an exhausted Eddie pops into his head, leaning over Buck to make sure he’s comfortable, and without even knowing the full picture, he knows that this is because of that, too.

The ways Eddie loves him will never fail to catch Buck off-guard, and even though he’s doing a better job at recognizing that it’s a love that exists no matter what — without any expectations from Buck to be a certain way, or to do something in return — there’s days where he doesn’t believe he deserves it. Days where he doesn’t believe this incredible man is waiting on them to be ready, is waiting on Buck to be ready.

Buck’s known of Eddie’s love for weeks, has had all this time to do something about that realization, but something about this quiet morning, basking in the evidence of it, makes Buck want to leap headfirst into it — makes him want to drag Eddie into an affirming kiss and never let go for the rest of their lives.

He can’t do any of that while Eddie’s still sleeping, so instead, Buck gently pulls the blanket off of himself, draping it over Eddie and tucking the ends around him. He’d be more comfortable if Buck just helped him to his bed, but he can’t bring himself to wake him.

He realizes his mistake as soon as he turns onto his side, this time resting his head on his pillow so he can look at Eddie without crushing his hand.

Eddie inhales sharply, his eyes fluttering for a brief second before he settles, pulling his arm back with a grunt until it’s tucked under the blanket, cheek still resting on the couch. It must be uncomfortable to feel the pinpricks of blood returning to the limb, his nerves coming back on line with the sharpness of static.

It’s the right arm, the one that always aches whenever he does something too intensive. Buck’s brain is still coming online from knocking out as hard as he had last night, but even through the haze of his mind, Buck knows just what it means.

Gingerly, Buck gives in to the impulse to slip his fingers through the thick waves of hair on Eddie’s head, stroking until he settles with a content sigh.

Buck loves this man so much it hurts sometimes.

He knows better to assume that Eddie’s fallen asleep, and he’s proven right minutes later when the silence grows thick in anticipation of the first words they’ll exchange today.

“Morning,” Eddie rasps finally, still leaning into Buck’s touch. He’s about to pull his hand away when Eddie’s eyes tilt up to meet his own, soft and welcoming, still asleep.

“Hey.” This time, Buck’s fingers comb through the hair flopping over his forehead, pushing it back as he peers down at Eddie. “What are you doing down there?”

Eddie freezes, his eyes suddenly looking anywhere but at Buck as he tightens the blanket around himself.

Buck’s eyes narrow as he trails his fingers down to the back of Eddie’s neck, absently kneading as he tries to picture what could’ve happened.

There are very few times Eddie’s as cagey as he looks right now, and instantly, Buck recognizes the expression on his face. It’s the same look he gets when he’s trying to downplay something he did that was purely selfless — something that usually precedes a shrug and a just doing my job .

“I was sleeping weirdly, wasn’t I?”

As if on cue, Eddie shrugs, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the couch. Buck slips his fingers back into his hair, tugging lightly as he goes, face flushing at the involuntary breathy sound that slips from Eddie’s mouth.

“Your neck would’ve hated you this morning.” Eddie’s words are muffled by the couch, and suddenly, Buck has the full picture.

It flies together in his head like a magnetic puzzle with all the pieces turned in the right direction — Eddie fixing the position of his neck, Buck rolling over and accidentally pinning Eddie under his head, Eddie deciding to lay down instead of just pushing Buck over.

Using his grip on the back of Eddie’s head, Buck scoots over until he can press his mouth to the top of his head, emboldened by the uninhibited way Eddie leans into him. The scent of his shampoo drifts from his hair, and Buck hides his smile at the scent in the silky strands.

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, loud enough for just Eddie to hear.

It’s quiet for a moment — not tense, not anxious, just contemplative. Buck stays where he is, smoothing down the random cowlicks of Eddie’s hair as he rests his cheek against his best friend’s head, his chest lighter for having taken the jump they both needed him to take.

Then, Eddie moves out from under him. He straightens just enough for Buck to move back, a wince flashing across his face briefly, but he’s smiling so, so brightly that Buck has to trace it.

He lifts a thumb, scraping his nail against the curve of Eddie’s bottom lip as he closes the bare inches between them, tilting his forehead against Eddie’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck sighs.

It’s easy, being there, in Eddie’s orbit. Buck doesn’t know what time it is, but it has to be early if Christopher isn’t out yet. Still, there’s no rush to go anywhere or do anything.

“I love you, too,” Eddie whispers, his nose nuzzling Buck’s before he laughs quietly. “Is this all it would’ve taken?”

It’s Buck’s turn to laugh as he tilts his chin up to press a kiss to Eddie’s sleep-warm cheek. “You’ve been loving me in secret for...probably longer than I’ve ever realized. Now, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you,” Eddie argues, a little uselessly. “It just...is.”

“Liar,” Buck returns. There’s no just about anything here — Buck knows how much Eddie’s heart is worth, has wanted to guard it since the day he met him, even if it would never be his.

But it is, and Eddie’s given it to him so freely, in so many ways.

Both of them break out into soft giggles as Eddie rests his temple against Buck’s cheek, breathing in deeply.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time with morning breath,” he mumbles.

“Romantic,” Buck teases before curving a hand around Eddie’s shoulder, tugging lightly. “Come here.”

That faint snag of guilt takes hold of him again as Eddie uncurls himself with a wince, his back popping as he stretches. Buck sits up, throwing his legs off the couch

Eddie has no qualms about stretching out on the sofa, head in Buck’s lap as he curls tightly into the blanket, grumbling under his breath as he gets comfortable, shifting this way and that. Buck bites his lip to keep his laughter in as Eddie’s grumbling turns into a few outright swears before he realizes where he is and glances around for little ears.

“He’s still asleep,” Buck reassures him, unable to hide the fond amusement in his voice. Eddie sends him a look before a smile overtakes his expression, eyes slipping closed as he turns his face towards Buck’s stomach.

It’s when he glances back at his phone that Buck realizes he should’ve grabbed it before Eddie laid down, and quietly, he stretches one leg out, hooking a foot underneath the coffee table and carefully dragging it closer.

Clearly not as careful as he thinks he’s being, because Eddie reaches up to smack the back of his hand weakly into Buck’s chest. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting my phone,” Buck explains sheepishly. Eddie’s eyes open, incredulous but still too fond for it to land as an insult, and Buck settles back in his seat, dropping his palm over Eddie’s eyes so he doesn’t have to look at them anymore.

Eddie chuckles quietly, blindly unfolding one arm from the blanket to reach out, patting the coffee table. It’s comical, the way he’s flailing to find Buck’s phone, and he can’t help the laughter that escapes him when Eddie lets out a triumphant sound as his fingers bump into it.

“Here. Now let me sleep,” Eddie says, shifting until his nose is buried in Buck’s shirt. Buck takes his phone from him, catching Eddie’s wrist before it can disappear into his blanket.

It’s still red at parts, and Buck knows this is the arm that tends to ache on colder days. Carefully, he slides his hand against Eddie’s, massaging the ache that has to be lingering between his fingers and along his palm.

“You could’ve just shoved me off, you know,” Buck tells him. “I would’ve fallen back asleep instantly.” Eddie hums under his breath, a non-committal answer that has Buck dropping his free hand back in his hair, pulling admonishingly. “I’m serious.”

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t thinking with any of my higher-order functions last night, Buck,” Eddie says. “Or right now, for that matter. Can I sleep now?”

Buck goes to pull his hand out of Eddie’s, but he tightens his grip on it, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting go, throwing the blanket over himself again.

Sure, there’s a perfectly good bed a few paces over where Buck won’t disturb him with his fidgeting, but Buck likes to keep Eddie close, and mornings are always precious time where he’s more willing to let himself lean into the things he wants.

“You’re a teddy bear,” Buck says matter-of-factually. “A cuddly one.”

It’s not a new thing to him — Eddie might look all tough, but he’s as pliable as wax is. And he’s more tactile than anyone gives him credit for — a fact that Buck found out during the pandemic, and has never let go of since.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie breathes, eyes shining briefly as they meet Buck’s, faintly rimmed in exhaustion. “Well. To you, at least.”

It’s Buck’s turn to hum contentedly as he picks up his phone, burying his hand in Eddie’s hair and pressing his fingers into his scalp as he checks his text. He’s hardly been doing it for five minutes before Eddie’s breathing evens out, his expression slack where he’s still turned against Buck’s stomach.

Buck flicks over to his texts and shoots Chris one, letting him know his dad is asleep in the living room and not to make much noise when he comes out. He doesn’t get much more than a thumbs up on the message, and then three dots before a message for breakfast pops up in the way only a teenage boy could ask, but Buck’s chest warms at the normality of it all — like this is where he belongs.

Eddie snuffles and shoves closer, his fingers twining tightly into Buck’s shirt as if he can hear the thoughts racing through Buck’s mind.

Buck looks down at him, his hand cradled carefully around Eddie’s head, and thinks to himself — yeah. With the man who’d rather contort himself into uncomfortable positions than wake Buck up resting peacefully in his arms, Buck’s never been more sure of anything.

This is exactly where he belongs.

200 notes · View notes

skibasyndrome · 2 months

Note

Darling Simon, here are some fic writing questions! Curious about 2, 7 and/or 8, and 4/37?

Wish you a fabulous Friday!

Hey there W, thank you so much for asking me all of these! :) And I'm sorry for waiting with answering until it's not even Friday anymore ahhh, but I hope you had a good one! 💜💜💜

2: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Oh sooooooo many!!!!! I really wanna write some classic enemies to lovers sometime and OH okay, this is probably highly specific, but I cooked up this AU idea with @sillylittleflower once and like one of the things that me wanna write it the most is the fact that I could include a good old tending to the wounds of someone and getting very close to them in process scene in it. Scenes like that are 100/10 and I will not rest until I've been able to write at least one!!!!

7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

God... the way I always forget everything immediately after I post it. But hmmm, something I REALLY enjoyed writing is this in Never Letting You Go:

Him on his knees to worship Simon, to offer him everything he has. To spell his veneration out, rededicate this space, make it into a temple for them and their love. To fill the air around them with the sounds of his sweet and breathy prayer. Wilhelm nuzzles his nose along the patch of hair and smiles to himself. If anyone dares to intrude on this moment that feels so fucking holy, well, let them see.

Because listen... something about using religious imagery to write about gay stuff? Idk, that's just a personal favorite of mine. Oh and I love the entire scene that this is taken out of because it's something I hadn't planned, it just sort of came to me and I love that I was able to take this very compromising position, but then not do what's most likely expected and instead make it into this sweet little break in between the sex, idk? I love writing not-always-so-linear sex scenes in case you hadn't noticed, lol.

8: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I've recently been trying (and really enjoying!) to write more dialogue-heavy stuff, and I had soooo much fun with EVERYTHING in Lavender Haze, but especially some of the not-so-smoot flirting:

“I uh, I don’t,” he’s stumbling over the words, still not taking his eyes off Simon. “I can’t dance, really.” “Oh, don't they teach you stuff like that at… royal school?” Simon shoots back, a challenging glint in his eyes that honest to god makes Wilhelm's knee buckle. Wilhelm winces dramatically. “Don't fucking remind me… I can give you a really unsexy waltz if that's what you want.” The laughter bubbling from Simon's throat is worth all the embarrassment Wilhelm feels at the memory of tripping over his own feet at some function. “Okay, new question: is there such a thing as a sexy waltz?” Simon asks and Wilhelm snorts. “Clumsy waltz, then?” Wilhelm tries and can’t quite fight the fluttering inside his chest at the way Simon is shaking his head at him playfully.

4: How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh god... too many for someone that should focus on getting one thing out at a time. But it's also kinda cool, because back in October I thought I'd never be able to come up with an original fic idea (as in, not taking something from canon) ever again.

Okay, I counted about 11 that I have traces of in my Google docs, some of them already have a bunch of actual writing to them, some just have outlines, but I love all of them and hope to get to them at one point of the other <3

37: Talk about your current wips.

Oh my goooood, I could talk for HOURS about them, this is too much ahhhh. Well, my most current WIP is a Sequel to my beloved Lavender Haze, which has Wille dealing with the aftermath of his hook-up (and maaaaaaybe, love at first sight situation, but who's to say) with Simon. I'm having a lot of fun with including other characters for once, like Felice, her gf, Maddie, Rosh and just trying my hand at something AU for once :)

And well... my vampire AU....... beloved...... beautiful......... when will I do her the honors of finally writing that first chapter instead of literally everything that comes after!?!?!?

And then I have a bunch of other ideas that I bother @sillylittleflower with 24/7 because they don't wanna leave my head, one of them, very, veeeeeery beloved is a photography student AU, hopefully strangers to friends to lovers and very, very soft and! which is new for me! Simon POV!

Please ask me some fun fic writer asks <3

#darktwistedgenderplural #answered

9 notes · View notes

grave-cleric · 6 months

Text

10 fandoms 10 characters!

I have nothing better to do so lets fucking go. Tagged by @skuitti <3 inbefore i have forogtten every character i've ever liked...

Emu Otori from Project Sekai. Starting with a very new addition to the roster, started playing this march and got hooked to a lot of characters but i can't put all of them on this list so i'm putting Emu because she's my colorful little decora gremlin princess. I love her energy and think she should have more extravagant outfits in the game 😤

Goemon Ishikawa XIII from Lupin the 3rd. I am a weak woman, i see a stoic samurai and i fall in love. I just, he's so [incomprihensible screaming]. He's cool and collected and dramatic in the stupidest of ways and his banter with the rest of the gang is amazing. Once again I would put other characters from the series here but i can choose just one so himb

Jester Lavorre from Critical Role, my girlfail cleric <3 I would literally put all of the Mighty Nein here if i could but alas. I love her whimsy and her style is on point. Laura is an amazing actor and how multifeceted Jester is is just a testament to that. Cant wait for the eventual forjester wedding one shot lol

Mitsuri Kanroji from Demon Slayer. My wifeeee, i love her. Just, her!!!! Witness her you fuckers!!!! Cutest and strongest girl just love her and her whole thing

Kurloz Makara from Homestuck. Had to waiit til the middle to put in the homestuck lol. My stupid dubious clown man. He's the worst and i love him for it, like go king be horrible and religiously delusional. Dancestors were so underutilized and i hate it they were all so cool. Tbh this whole list could be full of homestuck characters but i cant do that so yall get my delusional clown.

Rin Hoshizora from Love Live. My whimsical cat girl <3 fun fact i once cosplayed her. She's adorable and i like her personality a lot, also orange/blue girlie love her

Mipha from Breath of the Wild. Fish. I love the zora and Mipha hits the spot i my angst healer soul, good shit good shit. Her design is also so good!! I have the making a champion book an all of her concept art is just <3!

Karamatsu Matsuno form Osomatsusan. Fail man. That's it that's the post. Not the most pathetic out of the group but he's my pathetic little blue man. Originally didn't like him, then i just grabbed him by the neck and didn't let go. Stupid flashy man, i love him.

Legolas Greenleaf from Lord of The Rings. Pretty, slighty stupid men i love them. Also blond men. His dynamic with everyone is just, amazing. Also elf, i love elves. Be glad there aren't more elves on here

Shadowheart from Baldur's Gate 3. One more elf! My baby girl... she's so <3!!!! i don't care what anyone says, love her and her storyline to bits. More on my angst healer list, fits like a glove <3 I seem to have a thing for liking religiously fanatic characters i guees but raugh her storyline with Shar and her memories and!!!!!! Great game recommend

auaag tagging peopleee you don't have to do this if you dont feel like it @snepdragon @neiti-kassiopeia @siniseri aug uh i dont have anymore that pop in mind grauh

#10 characters 10 fandoms #i would've just filled this list with only homestuck characters if i could #but as stated i cannot sadly #man it really is hard to think about things you like in a situation like this #personal grave

6 notes · View notes

millenialfanfictionaddiction · 9 months

Note

Hi ma, how have you been? I've been working on my driver's license even tho I'm 18 and tomorrow I have to drive with my driving instructor so I'm super nervous and can't sleep 😭😭😭.

In light of the new information on the haikyu movies. I can't say I regret forcing my family to watch haikyu subbed. My mom and brother liked it but they didn't quite get into it. Unfortunately for them my dad(48) got hooked. Ever since I mentioned there's a two part movie coming out he's been checking for updates whenever he can. Though that isn't the only anime I've gotten him to watch. I sat him down and showed him "Way of the Househusband" (which I highly recommend you watch if you haven't, it's subbed and dubbed on Netflix and I believe it's on Crunchyroll as well) and that probably has to be his favorite. My mom just thinks it's weird lol.

My parents aren't the best, but it's times like these that I enjoy. I'm always afraid of opening up to them, or just anyone in general, about my interests because I think they'll make fun of me or think lesser about me(thank you anxiety 💀) But I just find it funny how my dad got so into it especially since he's 48 and can have some "old fashioned" views.

I want to go to Japan at some point in time in my life (not because I like anime or anything like that, but because I like it for its art, fashion, food and culture) and I've talked about it with my parents a lot now that I'm out of highschool and my dad said if I go he wants to go with me. I've done lots of research on Japan and currently studying some of its art and artists so I've shared this information with my dad and it's some how got him interested as well. It's kind of bizarre to me how I managed to get this super close minded old man into someone who's more open minded and willing to try different things.

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with all this but ig it's just, people can change? No matter how old they are? Or you can like try new things no matter how old you are, it's never too late.

That's kind of the thing I'm struggling to realize rn because I graduated highschool and now I have the rest of my life ahead of me. I have a vague idea of what I want to do but for me my career isn't a major concern. It's more my social life that is. I have very few friends and I feel like I don't have enough time. It's been a struggle for me to find relationships because it's hard for me to interact with people and get to know them. I've never been in a romantic relationship before and it's difficult seeing everyone around me in a relationship like that and I want that kind of connection with someone, but I'm not good at talking to people. I feel like I'm running out of time to be in a relationship like that even though I'm only 18.

I've been seeing people close to me in relationships since I was 12 and only three people have ever said they wanted to date me. I've never been on a date either. So it's does get under my skin sometimes and it is not a good feeling. I know I have time but man...

Any tips ma? Also, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make this a tangent, but I just wanna get some advice and opinions from you.

Omg hi!!! I’m doing pretty good right now how are you??? I can totally understand the nervousness with driving! I’ve had my drivers license for almost 20 years 😅 (yeah that’s embarrassing) and the idea of someone watching me drive still makes me nervous but believe me, you’ve got this! Soon it will be a distant memory and you will have the freedom to drive as you please!!

Second, let me just say, I love when kids connect with their parents on anything! I’m sure your dad really appreciates you and him having Haikyu to watch. I have two kids and I love whenever my kids and I get into something together. It really makes us as parents feel so close with our kids.

Also, you are very right! People can change no matter their age. It’s not easy to change things but the point is that they work on them and are willing to make the effort needed! I’m really glad you are seeing positive changes and I really hope you and your dad are able to visit Japan!!

Now lastly, let me just say that what/how you are feeling about everything is VERY normal! Being someone between teenagerhood (is that a thing?) and “adulthood” is extremely hard. So many people act like when you turn 18 something automatically switches and you’ve become and adult but that’s not how any of that works. You’re in the age of discovery and finding yourself and this is one of many stages you’ll go through. Society acts as if we need to have our lives together by a certain age when in reality many of us millennials still have absolutely no idea what we are doing 😂 and that’s ok! I got married “young” and had kids “young”. Im also divorced and been through many different periods of my life. Heck, I didn’t start seeing a therapist until I was almost 30! The thing to remember is that there is no right or wrong in the journey of finding yourself. We all mess up, have regrets, wish we would have done things different, but that’s all part of life. If there’s one thing I know it’s that life doesn’t end as you get older, it actually gets so much better! Im way happier in my thirties than I ever was in my teens/twenties. My advice would be to just have fun! If you want to try dating, go on dates and see what happens. Just have fun! If you want to focus on a career, do it! If you want to travel the world, please send me a post card 😂 do what makes YOU happy. It’s really hard not to compare yourself to others because we all do it. We see someone having something we want and we get jealous. It’s natural! But always remember, lives are like icebergs, we only see the surface. So much is happening underneath that we will never see.

Ok my last comment I promise 😅. I’ve always been a person that keeps few people close and develop strong relationships with them. I have many people I talk to and consider “friends” but only 2 people I’d consider my best friends. Those are the ones I put my energy into, the ones who’ve developed deep connections with. Making friends isn’t easy and I’ve always been a pretty outgoing person, so I usually just go for it if I want a friend 😅 however I totally realize many people don’t work like that. My best advice would be to find friends who have things in common with you. Like one of my best friends I found on Tumblr and we connected over writing! The best thing about the online world is that it’s given us the opportunity to meet people from all over and form friendships! Do what makes you feel comfortable and have fun with it!

I hope some of this at least helps! I’m definitely more of like an advice columnist in my response 😂 thank you so much for reaching out and good luck on your driving test!!

#my lovely bbys #moms advice column?

5 notes · View notes

workofheart · 3 years

Text

levi ackerman relationship hcs

some modern headcanons, nsfw below the cut <3 it’s just levi brainrot at this point

definitely the type to follow (stalk) your spotify and check in to see what you’re listening to. if he has the time, he might even listen along and wonder what you’re doing. if it’s a particularly sad song or series of songs, he’ll know to send you a text to let you know he’s thinking of you

on that note, he also stalks your pinterest boards just to see what you’re into these days and (idk abt yall but i save pins of mens fashion) if he sees a cute outfit in your saves that fits his style, he might even try it out. reason being (though he’ll never admit to it) he loooves that kind of attention from you - when he looks particularly good and you can’t stop staring, it might just pull a smirk out of him

once you’re living together, he lowkey acts like a dad. might scold you for not closing doors, not turning off lights, all the like. he means well, honestly

however, doesn’t mind tidying up for you. folds your laundry, clears your plate, takes your jacket off your shoulders when you get home, just because it’s his way of showing he cares. definitely an acts of service kind of guy

really good at cooking! he likes spending days in the kitchen with you while he whips something up or tries something new and you just sit at the counter and talk to him. it’s a good way to catch up as your adult lives can sometimes get busy

if you fall asleep with earbuds still in, he’ll gently take them out for you before you go to bed <3 he’ll also plug your phone in for you if you forgot

occasionally reads aloud to you, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping. we all know he’s not much of a talker, but his voice is so relaxing and he doesn’t mind doing it if he knows it will help

the chillest, coolest boyfriend ever. he’s so mature, honest, and trusting, and you don’t have to worry about those high school dramatics when you’re dating him. when he chooses to date you, he’s serious about it - definitely not the type to just date for fun. he won’t hesitate to deny advances from other people, doesn’t care about what you wear, just fully devoted to you and wouldn’t even think about anyone else

i also think that with that dating in general, you would probably start out as acquaintances or maybe even friends. he needs to have a lot of trust in the person he chooses to date, so only after he’s known you a long time and you’ve made enough of an impact on his life for him to make it hard to let you go would he date you

speaking of, didn’t isayama say that levi would stutter around his crush? i can imagine him stumbling over his words, trying to cover it up with a cough, reaching to scratch his neck all sheepish, just getting all shy. even once you’re far past that stage of your relationship, sometimes you’re so upfront and bold, he can’t help himself :( you just make him so weak

braids your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself - you’ll sit in front of him and his fingers are so gentle with your hair 🥺 he got the hang of it so quickly and has the dexterity to not tangle your hair and it always comes out so nice and clean, even if you’re just going to sleep in them

i peg him as a biiiig cuddler. not a lot of pda besides holding your hand, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you hook your arm around his, etc., but in private he loves when he can just lay his head on your lap or chest bc then you can play with his hair, which relaxes him

he’s really intuitive and in tune with your emotions. if you’re feeling down, he’ll know, and he’ll also know if you need space or if you need comfort, both of which he is more than willing to oblige

he’s there to bring you cups of tea, maybe some cut up strawberries on the days you’re tired and want to sleep. will definitely tuck you in, and will also lay down with you for a bit if you ask

his go to way of getting you to talk is going on drives. 1) levi is a really good driver and 2) he’ll usually come and find you wherever you may be around the apartment, say something along the lines of, “i’m going on a drive, you wanna come?” or might just give you a look and jingle the keys around his fingers

it might take a little while of rolling through the backroads aimlessly for you to speak up, but when you do, he’s all ears. lets you talk through your thoughts, might prompt you further, offers advice if you ask for it. it’s also how you sort through relationship misunderstandings - they are rare, but all relationships have them, so it would be silly to present your relationship without them

i think that when levi is upset on the other hand, he’ll usually come to you for comfort. he isn’t necessarily looking for advice, but just to calm down and rest. some form of physical touch is good, like cuddling or napping, preferably where he can put his head on your chest so you can play with his hair

i think levi is the type of person to get a lot of intrusive thoughts or memories that he doesn’t really want to remember when they pop up, so having you as a distraction to hold him and let him know it’s alright is something he really appreciates

nsfw below the cut (18+)

unpopular opinion: levi is NOT the hard dom people tag him as. rather, i think of levi as a service top, so while he may be carrying out more of the work, you’re the one in control. getting you off gets him off 100%

considering he is usually very dominant outside the bedroom, he likes the opportunity to let you take control and direct him instead - it takes a weight off his shoulders

slow and smooth kisser. might put up a fake fight for dominance just to make it more fun, but eventually take the lead and kiss him dizzy

hearing your moans makes him unbelievably hard. the sounds you make go straight to his dick

and so: godly at giving head. he might edge you but it’s not to tease or as punishment, he just takes his time because he knows it feels better for you, and at the end of the day he wants you to feel as good as possible. your pleasure is his main priority.

knows how to use his fingers, knows how to use his tongue. knows what you like and picks up on it very quickly. i don’t think he’s that experienced but he’s got a good natural sense of what feels good - do not doubt him, he knows where the clit is

he’s got a very wide range of capabilities for this, too. he can go slow and sensual on a calm sunday morning or absolutely dive in and ravage your pussy for more intense sessions - this is the one time he doesn’t mind making a mess

making you cum is good for his self esteem/confidence lmfaooo he lives to see your flushed cheeks and heaving chest and be told he’s doing well. when you scratch his hair or cup his cheek as a quick thank you, his heart swells and his dick twitches

please kiss his neck, he will absolutely melt for you. especially the next day when he looks in the mirror and notices the little love bites you left him... he runs his fingers over them lightly and his eyelids get a little droopy as he remembers everything, will definitely seek you out for another round

tbh i don’t think he’s that kinky. he likes what he likes, i can’t imagine him comfortably degrading you or hitting you or anything like that. realistically, levi wouldn’t be having sex with someone he’s not in a committed relationship with. he wants it to be special and personal and therefore probably would not enjoy treating you poorly even if just for the sake of sex. if anything, he wants it the other way around bc he could easily be a bit of a masochist in bed

loves when you restrain him and ride the shit out of him, either by tying his hands to the bed or just pinning his arms down. likes when you “use” him to get off. put your hands around his neck and he’s putty in your hands

really loves when you tell him to cum - your voice is music to his hears and to hear it out loud and as a command has him doing exactly that. he’s not one to disobey orders lol.

his brows furrow, his eyes squeeze shut, mouth falls open and lets out a low moan... jesus christ

one more deep kiss, a quick clean up, and then he’s passing out with his head on your chest. after-sex sleep is some of the best rest he’s ever gotten

#levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman imagines #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi x reader #levi fluff #levi smut #aot headcanons #levi ackerman hcs #levi hcs #levi headcanons #levi ackerman headcanons

2K notes · View notes

connordavidscamera · 3 years

Text

A Jealous Household | Connor Brashier

A/n: listen, I know it says y/n, but we all know it’s written about me, right? Okay, just wanna put that out there lol

Summary: Shawn and Brian want to have a party, but this party causes a few problems for Connor and y/n

Warnings: angst, underage drinking (for US standards, at least), pining

Word count: 7.5k, she’s a long one

***

“You want to have a party? When?” Y/n asks, closing her book and setting it in her lap.

“This weekend,” Shawn nods. “And it won’t be a big thing, I promise. Maybe fifteen, twenty people.”

“Thirty or forty, max,” Brian interjects.

I can’t help but laugh at that, neither can she as she says. “You know we can’t even fit thirty or forty people in the condo, right?”

“I know that, but that’s why we’ll have some of them in the backyard too.”

“So what’s the party even for?” She asks, leaning into my side. On instinct, I wrap my arm around her shoulders.

They both shrug, “A house warming party? Does that still count if we’ve lived here for almost two months?” Shawn questions.

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t see why we couldn’t have one. We just have to be considerate of our neighbors. And nobody’s allowed in my room. If there’s alcohol, I’m not chancing anyone going into my room for a sloppy fuck.”

Shawn laughs, “So your sloppy fuck is gonna be in Connor’s room then?”

I roll my eyes at the comment. Shawn and Brian love to tease me about my crush on y/n. They have since the beginning. Shawn’s taunts are light hearted, but they’re plentiful now that we all live together. Brian’s at times feel almost malicious. But Brian also isn’t aware that I still have a crush on her, he thinks the feeling has passed. It definitely hasn’t. If anything, being in such tight quarters with her at all times has made me like her even more. Watching her move so effortlessly around our home - seeing her do her nightly routine, watching her polish her nails every Sunday like clockwork. I have undeniably fallen even deeper in love with her in just these few short weeks we’ve lived together and it’s killing me.

It’s killing me because we still haven’t talked about what she said to me a couple weeks ago when we were falling asleep together. I don’t even know if she remembers saying what she did. And I could have misinterpreted her words, I mean, she was falling asleep, her words were slurring. I could have misunderstood. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself every time the memory pops into my head. Which is about six times a day for the past three weeks.

Y/n gasps and tosses her book at him, "Asshole!"

He laughs, picking the book up off the floor from where it ricocheted off his chest. "I'm kidding. Kidding. But it's cool?"

She shrugs, "Yeah, whatever. Go nuts."

"Yes!" Shawn pumps his fist in the air before high fiving Brian.

"We gotta get alcohol."

"Ah, wait. Before you two go broke buying drinks for the party, remember that we have bills to pay. So save us all a headache and make it BYOB."

Brian snaps and points at her with a click of his tongue. "This is why we keep you around."

She laughs, "Oh is that why?"

"Indeed," he nods.

"Okay, well can I have my book back, please?"

"Yeah, here," Shawn leans over the coffee table to hand it to her before disappearing to his room, Brian heading to the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" I ask, not looking up from my phone. I can sense that the wheels are turning in her head and she sighs dramatically.

"I don't remember which page I was on."

I force myself not to laugh. "243."

“Hmm?” She flips to that page and looks up at my side profile. “How’d you know that?”

I shrug, “I always memorize the page you’re on before you close the book, just in case.”

She smiles sheepishly and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re cute,” she whispers before turning her attention back to the page in front of her and resting her head in the crook of my neck.

I squeeze her shoulder hoping she doesn’t look up and notice the growing blush on my cheeks, “You’re cuter.”

---

“Do you have any idea who’s coming to this?” Y/n asks as we move a cooler out to the backyard.

I shake my head, “Not really. I think Matt and his girlfriend, honestly, I have no idea. It’s Shawn, so there’s bound to be more people than we’re anticipating.”

“Lots of girls then.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask, setting the cooler down, providing her with my undivided attention (which she has always had).

“He’s making a name for himself out here. Playing a few more gigs than at home. I noticed at the last one, he’s got a few groupies.”

I chuckle, “Oh really?”

She nods, “There were like five girls there just holding onto his every word. It was actually pretty cool to watch. But he got nervous. Started fidgeting with his necklace, so I had to get him out of there, which of course resulted in death glares from his adoring fans.”

“What? What do you mean? Death glares towards you?”

Y/n laughs, fixing the collar of her shirt that’s falling off her shoulder. “Yeah. I think they thought there was more there than there is,” she shrugs, “And if looks could kill, I would be dead five times over.”

I shake my head, I don’t like that thought, and I say as much. “I don’t like that thought.”

“What? Shawn having groupies?”

“No, girls staring daggers at you because you’re friends with him.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

I know it’s not, but the thought of someone not liking her is appalling to me. “I still don’t like it.”

“Is it because if something happened to me you’d be left to live alone with Shawn and Brian? Because that would make me sad too.”

I force a laugh, “That, and I’d be bored without you.”

She nods understandingly, “I get it. I am the light of your life,” she teases.

You are, I think to myself. “Yeah, yeah,” I say instead, stepping forward, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Let’s get inside, it’s hot as hell out here.”

Shawn and Brian are sitting on the floor in front of the TV, trying to get the wifi hooked up to it. We barely got wifi installed at the beginning of the week, but we’ve all been so busy, we haven’t had the chance to get everything hooked up to it.

“It’s not working!” Brian complains, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Well try again! That’s what the router says.” Shawn counters back.

“Let me see that,” Brian snatches the router out of his hands. “Dumbass! You’re reading me the product number! Not the fucking password!”

Y/n and I hide our faces to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter, but we both break when Shawn pouts when Brian puts the router back in his hands after successfully connecting the TV.

“Oh, what’s with the pouty face, rockstar?” y/n asks.

“Brian’s a dick,” he mutters, which causes Brian to punch his shoulder.

“Ow!” Shawn exclaims, reaching to hold his arm. “That hurt!”

“It was supposed to. Want me to do it again?”

“Craigen,” y/n shakes her head and before I can protest, she’s out of my grasp and I suddenly feel lonely without her body next to mine. “No more fighting.”

“Just one time in the face,” he tries to reason. “Just once. Come on, it’s a long time coming. I’ve wanted to punch him in the face since we were kids.”

“No,” she squats down behind Shawn, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head against his. I watch Shawn fall into her touch and I’m envious of him. Even though she holds onto me in the exact same way, almost daily, she isn’t right now and it makes me long for it. Especially when I watch her start to massage his scalp and he hums because her head scratches feel like you’re in heaven. “You can’t punch him in the face. That’s the money maker,” she squishes his cheeks with her free hand and speaks in a mock baby voice, “And if he’s got a black eye how will he charm girls with his pretty face tonight?”

Shawn laughs and pushes her hand away, but he reaches back and pats her calf. “Sit down,” he says and she obliges, her legs spreading and bracketing Shawn’s. He falls back into her and takes her hand that was just squeezing him and brings it to his lips to kiss her knuckles before bringing it to his hair as well. “More head scratches.”

She rolls her eyes, but continues anyway. “So fucking needy.”

He hums, “Could fall asleep like this.”

She hums too and looks up at me with a smile that melts my heart, “Connor does all the time.”

I nod, “I do. Feels good. Your hands are magic.”

“How magic? Like you could get me off in three seconds?”

“Brian!” I growl. Yep, we can always count on him to ruin the mood.

But y/n’s laughing, “I’m sure I could, I mean, if you ask your first girlfriend, you only last five so I don’t think it’ll be difficult,” she answers.

Shawn’s hysterical in y/n’s arms, as am I as I fall to the floor, clutching my stomach. But Brian? Brian is livid.

“I can’t believe she told you that! She said she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

This only makes Shawn and I laugh harder. “Wait, did that actually happen?” I ask between fits. “Craigen, come on,” I groan when he’s silent. “Five seconds?”

“It was our first time!”

“And last, apparently,” y/n comments.

“Shut up!” he groans. “Fuck, I can’t stand you.”

She nods, “I know.”

“No, but seriously, when did she tell you that?”

Y/n breaks out into a wide grin. “She didn’t. But you just did. Thanks for that.”

He’s speechless. Absolutely speechless. And his face is so red; I don’t know if it’s in anger or embarrassment, but either way, Shawn pipes up. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, my first time I only lasted like twenty seconds.”

“I lasted fifteen,” I confirm, but I immediately regret it when y/n’s face morphs into one of confusion.

Oh, oh fuck. I never told her that I-

“Wait, you’ve had sex?”

“You didn’t know?” Shawn questions, looking back at her.

She shakes her head, “I guess not.”

I sigh and scratch the back of my head, “Yeah. It was… during that time where we weren’t really talking,” I mumble.

She nods slowly, scoffing, and I can’t quite pin her emotion, but it’s definitely a cross between anger and… is that jealousy? “Ah, good ol’ McKenzie,” she mutters under her breath. She exhales deeply out her nose and focuses her attention back to playing with Shawn’s hair.

“I would have told-”

“We weren’t talking. I know,” she cuts me off. “And it’s none of my business. It wasn’t then, and it’s not now either.”

“Oh, right. Okay,” I nod once. “New subject.”

---

We’re tiptoeing around each other the rest of the day. Or more so, I’m tiptoeing around her. She somehow is coming off as completely unbothered, but at the same time completely bothered. I don’t know what to make of this situation. I don’t know if I should apologize for not telling her, or if she even wants me to apologize. I don’t know and it’s killing me not knowing what I can do to make this better for us tonight.

I’m helping Brian pour more ice into the cooler we have in the kitchen when she walks out of her room. “Where’s Shawn?” she asks.

I look up at her and my heart stops for a moment. She’s wearing red, my heart never knows what to do when she wears that color. Does it stop? Does it speed up? Yes.

“He went to his car to get the beer we got this afternoon,” Brian answers, closing the lid.

SHe nods, “I’ll go help him.”

I watch as she leaves, not taking a full breath until the door shuts behind her.

“She still mad at you?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know. I don’t even know if she is mad at me.”

“Well, it’s y/n. You kept something from her for almost three years. I’m willing to bet she’s a little upset.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I know. But I mean, how was I supposed to tell her. She would barely even look at me during that time, so -”

“Yeah, because McKenzie was a bitch to her. How was she supposed to look at you when she was practically threatened or called out or god know what when you weren’t listening. I’d hate to know what she actually said when none of us were there to listen.”

I exhale deeply. I know my ex was the worst to her - she’s the entire reason y/n and I weren’t talking. She told me not to hang out with her as much, so I didn’t (also because I was trying to prove to Brian that I didn’t have feelings for y/n anymore. That was a mistake.) “So, I should apologize.”

Brian shrugs, “We all know you’re gonna apologize. You can’t stand it when she’s mad at you. Honestly, we can’t either. We have no idea what to do when you two aren’t talking. And since we all live together now, it’ll be even more awkward for you two to not talk.”

I nod, “Yeah. I know. I’ll apologize later. You should go get ready. I can finish up out here.”

Brian claps my shoulder, “Thanks, man. I’ll be quick.” He disappears at the same time Shawn and y/n walk in the front door with the drinks. I make my way over to them.

“Here, let me get that for you,” I tell her, reaching to take the cases from her hands.

“Oh, it’s okay. I got it. You want these inside or out, rockstar?”

“In the fridge, in the back. Gotta keep the good stuff for us.” Shawn hands me a pottle of vodka, “Put this in the freezer? I got it for y/n, I’m gonna make her a new drink.”

“You’re gonna risk giving her alcohol poisoning?” I question, raising one eyebrow at him.

He rolls his eyes, “I’ve gotten better at making drinks, dickhead.”

I laugh and hold my hands up in surrender, “Alright, sure.”

“I’m gonna put these in my room for now, and then I’m gonna get ready.”

“Brian’s in the shower, you can use my bathroom,” I say as y/n moves past us to the kitchen.

“Good looking out, thanks.”

And now it’s just me and her. It’s like any normal day. So why is my heart beating so quickly?

I watch her move some things around in the fridge to make room for the drinks, and I can’t help but smile. “You look pretty tonight,” I tell her, leaning against the counter.

She looks over at me and smiles softly, “Thanks.”

I clear my throat, “Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” she turns her attention back to her task at hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asks, closing the fridge.

“For not telling you that I slept with her.”

“Oh,” she nods. “It’s fine. It really is not any of my business who you have and haven’t slept with.”

“Well maybe not, but you are my best friend, and we tell each other everything. I know if we were on better terms when you were dating Noah, you would have told me that you-”

“I didn’t tell you because we didn’t sleep together.”

“What?” I stare at her with wide eyes.

“Noah and I didn’t sleep together.”

“But I thought-”

“You assumed. But no, it didn’t happen. I wasn’t ready. I mean, I barely let him kiss me, so how the hell was I gonna sleep with him?”

I nod because I don’t know what else to do or even say. She’s right, I just assumed that they had sex because he always had his hands all over her. I almost scoff at the thought. I hated watching him hold her in the hallway, his hands in her back pockets as he pulled her closer to him. Seeing them together everyday made my heart clench every time because it should have been me. I wonder if that’s how she felt when I had a girlfriend.

“Look, it doesn’t matter, okay? So, let’s just drop it. It’s not like I’m mad you had sex, I was just surprised to find out this way, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I get it. And I would have told you sooner, but there really was never a time, you know? And it was just with her a couple times, nothing since.”

“Connor, you really don’t need to explain it to me. Actually, if we could just stop talking about her all together, that’d be great.”

“No, yeah. Of course. It’s dropped.”

She nods, “Okay, good. So, you should go get dressed.”

“What do you mean? I’m wearing this,” I gesture to my torn t-shirt and my sweatpants with paint stains up and down the legs from when we painted the living room a few weeks ago. I’m totally joking, but I want to see her reaction anyway.

She looks me up and down and scoffs, “Yeah, no. Go change. You’re not wearing that.”

I pout dramatically, “Why not?”

“One, those pants are a mess. Two, you know you run hot when you drink, so why would you wear sweatpants? And three, that shirt is literally falling apart. You are not wearing that, go change.”

I can’t fight the smile that tugs at my lips because just like that we’re back to normal. “Okay, I’m going. Do you have something you’d like for me to wear?”

“Yes, your black pants with the white tank top and your peachy cream shirt. The one you wore for our graduation party.”

I nod, “Yes, ma’am. You wanna do my hair?”

“Come find me when you’re done, and I’ll see what I can do.”

---

I’m talking to my friend Will out in the backyard as the party becomes bigger than anticipated. Yeah, definitely called that situation.

“Bro, I wish I would have saved up more so I could have gotten a place like you guys did. I emailed my roommate last week to see what he wanted to get for the dorm and he straight up said, ‘I don’t plan to be roommates long, so nothing.’”

I can’t help but laugh, “Hey, we’d take you in over Brian, but he’d throw a bitch fit.”

He laughs too, twisting the cap off his beer. “So what’s it like living with y/n? Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. She knows how to run a household. She made a chore chart that goes on the fridge. Shawn had to beg her to take it down for the party because he was embarrassed.”

“Sounds like y/n. But that’s not what I meant.”

I take a swig of my beer and shrug, “There’s nothing else to say really. She’s nice to live with.”

“No progression between you two.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right, right. Because you’re not in love with her, right.”

“Will, come on. Not tonight.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. We’re not in a teasing mood tonight.”

Or ever. Will is a great friend of mine, and I would take a bullet for him, but he asks me for y/n updates every time we’re together, and I never have any for him. When I told him we were moving in together, he was stoked, but less so when I told him we were moving with Shawn and Brian too.

He - like Shawn - is an avid supporter of us getting together. Will found out about my so-called crush one night in high school, actually a couple weeks after my breakup with McKenzie. Y/n and I still weren’t talking. I was trying to mend things and she was trying to push me further away. I don’t remember much of the night he found out because I got shit faced drunk, but I somehow admitted to him that I had feelings for her and he’s convinced himself that he knows the biggest secret in the world. He treats it like he holds the key to the universe. If anyone wants us together more than I do, it’s him.

“Just don’t want to risk her hearing anything,” I tell him. “I already made things awkward earlier.”

“What? How?”

I shake my head, “Let it slip that Kenz and I slept together.”

He blanches. “She didn’t know?!”

I shake my head, “No. I never found the right time to tell her. But she keeps saying it isn’t her business, so I don’t know if that means she’s hurt by it or if I’m imagining it because right now it seems like she doesn’t really care. But - I don’t know, I want her to, I guess.”

He smirks, “She cares.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, looking inside, lifting my bottle up to my lips, but halting when I see her standing near the sliding glass door with - “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” Will asks, turning toward the door. “What hap - is that? Wait, is that Noah? What is he doing here?”

My jaw clenches, just like the grip around the bottle in my hand. “Better question, why the hell is he so close to her?”

Will sucks in a breath, “Are they still friends?”

I don’t answer him because I don’t know. I’m 99% sure they aren’t, but that 1% that says yes is simply because I’m watching them right now and she’s hugging him and letting him kiss her cheek before he pulls away. “I didn’t think they were. She hasn’t brought him up since the breakup.”

I don’t take my eyes off them as I start chugging the rest of my beer. It was still pretty full, but at this moment, I need to finish it because I need something stronger.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” I mutter, tossing my bottle in the trashcan near the cooler. I walk inside, but neither of them notice me. I shake my head and walk to Shawn’s room where he hid most of the hard stuff. I find the bottle of tequila that he stashed because he knew if he put it out, it’d go fast. I twist the top off and take, maybe a little more than a shot. I cough into my elbow when I pull the bottle back because wow he got the strong stuff.

Shaking my head, I close the bottle back up and sneak out of Shawn’s room. When I enter the living room, they’re still standing there talking. Or, he’s talking, she’s nodding at something he’s saying. I click my tongue and walk into the kitchen to grab another beer. SHould I be mixing my alcohol? No, I should not. Is that going to stop me? No, it is not.

My girl’s ex-boyfriend is over there talking to her and touching her like they’re best buds and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him.

I still remember the day she told us that she was going on a date with him.

All four of us are sitting in our usual booth at the diner, everything seems to be going like it always has. Just us four, laughing and making our weekend plans. The difference though is that y/n and I aren’t sitting shoulder to shoulder right now. She’s pushed against the window, and I’m toward about as far left as I can get without it being noticeable, or falling.

“So, we’re aiming for Saturday afternoon, right? Y/n, you’ll ride with me?” Shawn asks.

“Oh,” she sits up straight, “um, could we maybe do it on Sunday instead? I kind of already have plans on Saturday.”

“What?” Brian furrows his brows, “Without us?”

She nods, “Yeah,” she takes in a sharp breath beside me. “I um… I kinda, I have a date.”

At that exact moment, our heads whip in her direction - I’m pretty sure if I turned any faster I would have given myself whiplash.

“A date?” I ask as calmly as I can.

“With who?” Shawn questions.

She shrugs, “You know that guy Noah? I have him in like all of my AP classes? He asked me out after class this morning.”

I don’t think I can clench my jaw any harder. Noah. I hate him. I’ve never personally met him, but I hate him. “Cool,” I mutter, turning my head back to the table to reach for my drink.

“Well?” Shawn prompts. “What are you gonna do? Where is he taking you?”

She clasps her hands in her lap and shrugs again. “I don’t know. He hasn’t told me. Said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Ooh, romantic,” Brian teases.

“You hate surprises,” I mumble into my cup.

Y/n clears her throat and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s just one date. Not a big deal.”

“Okay, sure,” Brian says. “So Sunday then?”

“And you’ll tell us all about it?”

“Sure.”

There are very few times that I wish I was deaf, but that day was one of them. I didn’t sleep that whole night. I couldn’t. And the night of her date? Forget it. I was up all night wondering what was happening. Did he hold her hand? Did he hug her? Did that bastard take her first kiss? The first kiss that was supposed to belong to me?

And right now, as I watch him reach for her elbow again, I decide, fuck it. I don’t care if I look like a jealous asshole, I’m taking my girl away from him. I stride over to them and place my hand on her hip, “Hey, baby. Can you help me find the bottle opener? I can’t remember what drawer you put it in the other day, and I think my eyes are failing me.”

She shakes her head, “Um, yeah. It should be in the drawer closest to the fridge.”

“I checked there, please, come help me look.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to Noah who is staring daggers at my hand on her hip. I smirk. “Noah, it was good catching up with you. I’ll find you later. I’m gonna help him out.”

He looks back up at her and forces a smile, “Sure. Sounds good. Save me dance?”

Over my dead body. “Come on, baby,” I say, guiding her toward the kitchen.

She steps in front of me, mumbling a couple excuse me’s to the people blocking the kitchen. Then she b-line’s to the drawer closer to the fridge, which I definitely did not check because I wasn’t really looking for the bottle opener. I just needed an excuse to get her away from Noah.

“Here,” she holds it out to me. “Wait, I thought Shawn got twist tops.” She takes the bottle from my hand and laughs, “Bub, it twists off.” She says, taking the cap off the bottle.

“Oh,” I chuckle. I knew it was a twist top, again, I just needed an excuse to get her away. “Whoopsies?”

She puts the bottle opener back in the drawer and leans against the counter. “You having fun?”

I shrug, “I’m alright. So um… Noah’s here.”

Y/n nods slowly, “Yeah, he is.”

“Kinda weird that he showed up after we just talked about him,” I mutter.

“Yeah, I guess. He just tagged along with one of his friends.”

I nod, “Mhm. You two looked pretty cozy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Just, I mean, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the breakup,” I take a sip of the beer in my hand. “I didn’t realize you two were still so close.”

She tilts her head at me, “We’re not. We were just catching up. He didn’t know that I lived here too.”

“Uh-huh, so you haven’t talked to him recently?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s with the third degree, huh?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I mutter.

“No, Connor. I haven’t talked to him recently. In fact, I haven’t talked to him since the breakup. But what does that matter? Why does it matter who I do and do not talk to?”

“I just think it’s a little strange that he came here tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re insinuating. He came with a friend. He didn’t even know it was our party, or our house. He just showed up.”

“So he crashed it. Classy.”

“What is your deal?” She pushes herself off the counter and stands face to face with me, her forehead creasing as she glares at me. I want to smooth the crease and tell her not to do that because she’ll get a headache, but I refrain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” she scoffs, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! Newsflash, Connor, you’re not my boyfriend.”

I recoil, because sure I know I’m not, but the words spew from her lips like venom. “I know that.”

“Do you? Because right now it doesn’t seem like you do. Now unless I completely missed the part where you asked me to be your girlfriend, you have no right to be upset over me talking to my ex-boyfriend.”

“He was an ass to you then.”

“How would you know?! We weren’t even talking then.”

“Because you didn’t want to! I was still trying to fix things with us but you were pushing me away.”

“No, I wasn’t pushing you away. I was protecting myself from getting hurt again.”

“But it wasn’t me, that was Kenzie, and -”

She groans in frustration, “Why are we talking about her again? Why? I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

Y/n pinches the bridge of her nose. “Look, you’re my best friend, and I love you. But you have no right to be upset about Noah. You are not my boyfriend -”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you aren’t! You like to act like you are sometimes, but you’re not.”

“Do you want me to be?!” I exclaim, setting my bottle down.

She scoffs, shaking her head. “Not like this,” she says quietly, pushing past me.

“Y/n!” I call after her, but she ignores me. I, however, can’t ignore the eyes that are on me.

---

“He’s jealous?” Alessia asks, leaning back on her hands. We’re sitting on the grass in the backyard. It’s quieter out here, and far less crowded. “Does he even have a right to be?”

“That’s what I’m saying! He’s my best friend, but sometimes he acts like he’s my boyfriend and I just - I’m over it.”

She sighs, “You’re over him acting like your boyfriend.”

“Yes,” I say.

“Because you want him to actually be your boyfriend.”

“What? No! No,” I shake my head, “that’s not it.”

Les smiles, “Honey, it’s obvious the way you two look at each other. And you can deny it because you’re best friends, you live together. You don’t want to risk the integrity of the friendship that you have. And that is totally reasonable, but you two need to discuss what you are to each other. Because it’s clear that in his mind, you’re a little bit more than just ‘best friends.’ And well, you’ve always wanted to be more, so what’s so wrong with him being that?”

I sigh and pick at the grass beside me, “I don’t know if he feels this way genuinely or if it’s because I’m closer now. We live together, it seems almost easy or convenient for him to develop some tiny crush because of the proximity.”

At this she laughs, “Oh, honey. That is definitely not it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that boy has been in love with you since before I even met you guys. It’s written all over his face and if you took a second to just stop and -”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, guys,” Shawn says, breathlessly, pushing his curls out of his face. “Y/n, Connor’s drunk off his ass, and I need your help”

I sit up, “Okay, How much did he drink?”

“Like, the entire bottle of tequila I had in my room, plus however many beers he had.”

I stand up, swatting at the backs of my legs to get off any dirt, “Is he throwing up?”

“No, he’s just asking for you.”

I nod and look back to Alessia, “We’ll talk later, Les?”

“Mhm, go take care of your boy.”

“Why did he drink so much?” I ask Shawn, following him toward the sliding glass door.

He shrugs, “I asked him. He said you were mad at him.”

I roll my eyes, “Well yeah, he was being an ass. But it still doesn’t make sense.If he drinks every time I get upset with him, he’d be an alcoholic ”

“All I know is that he was asking for you,” Shawn says just as we find Connor sitting outside my bedroom door, nursing another beer bottle.

I shake my head, “God, he knows not to be switching between alcohol.”

“Connor, buddy?” Shawn says, squatting down next to him. “I got her. Why don’t you give me that beer, eh?” He goes to take it from his hands, but Connor’s quick to move it, spilling a bit of it on his shirt in the process.

“No, this is mine. Get your own,” he slurs

I sigh and squat down next to him, too. “I think you’ve had enough, bub. Come on, let me have it.”

He looks at me with heavy eyes and he pouts, dramatically. “Y/n… you’re so pretty.”

“Connor,” I shake my head.

“I love you in red. God, you look so good. Could never get,” he hiccups, “tired of looking at you.”

I blush, looking over at Shawn who’s still sitting with us. “Okay, come on. Let’s get up. We need to get you to bed.”

He nods slowly, “Whatever you want, baby.”

I take the drink out of his hand and set on the floor beside us. “Shawn, help me get him up.”

Shawn nods, “You got it.” He does most of the heavy lifting, but when Connor’s on his feet, he leans into me, hugging my waist, burying his head in my neck.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. So sorry.”

“I know, come on now. We’re going to your room.”

He groans into my skin, but helps me and Shawn take him to his room as best as he can, only stumbling once when we round the corner. We push his bedroom door open and walk further into the room, plopping him down on the bed.

“Thanks, Shawn. I got it from here.”

“You sure?”

I nod, moving to grab his trash can from next to his desk. “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for coming to get me.”

He nods, “Of course. Come get me if you need anything else.”

Connor groans as Shawn slams the door shut behind him. I sigh and move around the room, turning on his bedside lamp and going to his desk chair where his outfit from earlier is laid out. “Okay, bub, I’m gonna need you to help me out, alright? I need you to get out of your clothes, I’m gonna put you in pajamas, okay?”

He shakes his head, his pout even heavier than usual, eyes struggling to stay open. “Too tired. You do it.”

I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Of course he’s gonna be difficult right now. I shake my head, throwing his clothes beside him, “Can you stand up?”

He mumbles something incoherent, but I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere along the lines of “The room is spinning.”

“Fuck, Connor, why did you drink so much?” I grumble, moving to the floor to take his shoes off.

“You’re mad at me,” he whines.

“Yes, I am. You know your limits. What were you gonna do if this didn’t happen at the house, hmm?”

“M’sorry.”

I roll my eyes, “Okay, sit up,” I reach for his hands to help pull him to a sitting position.

He makes an unnecessary amount of groaning sounds as he moves around to accommodate me.

I push his shirt off his shoulders, it’s almost damp, he’s sweating so much. I throw it to the side, I’ll put it in the laundry room when I go get him some pain meds in a little bit. I take hold of the hem of his tank top, “Arms up,” I pat his side and he obliges, looking up at me with a sad smile on his lips. “What’s wrong?” I ask him, tossing his tank top off to the side too.

“I’m sorry I got mad earlier. About Noah.”

I shake my head, “It’s fine. Lay back, lift your hips for me.”

He lays back, but his pout still remains on his face as I lean forward to unbutton his pants.

“What now?” I question softly, pulling down his zipper, “Hips up.”

He’s looking at me with such sad eyes and it’s killing me. “This isn’t how I wanted you to undress me for the first time.”

My breath hitches, “What?”

“Wanna make love to you,” he slurs.

I almost choke on his words, “Connor, you’re drunk,” I shake my head, pulling his pants off him and grabbing his sweats to pull up his legs instead. I decide to forgo the shirt because he’s already sweating a lot, I don't want to make him even hotter. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m gonna go get you some water and pain meds. Stay here.” I move the trash can closer to him, “The trash is right next to you if you feel like you’re gonna get sick.

I pick up his discarded clothes from the floor and walk to the door and out the room before he can say anything else he doesn’t mean. After tossing them in the hamper in the laundry room, I squeeze past the group of people still congregating in the hallway. I slip into my room and grab some of my pain meds from my book bag and quickly slip out again to head to the kitchen which is also crowded. I mumble out a general excuse me, and go to the fridge to grab Connor a bottle of water.

On my way back, I stop and go to his bathroom which is thankfully empty, and grab a hand towel and wet it under the faucet to hopefully cool him down a bit. When I’m back in his room, he’s laying face down on his bed and I stop for a minute, admiring his smooth skin, and the way the muscles in his shoulders tense up when he moves his arm above his head. It’s not fair. No one man should look this good.

I shake my head, focusing back on the task at hand. I close the door behind me gently. “Okay, Connor. I need you to sit up just one more time to take these pills and then you can go to bed, yeah?”

He groans, “I think I drank too much, baby,” he mumbles, pushing himself up and I'm once again in awe of how his muscles move with him.

I scratch at my scalp and nod, holding out the pills for him. “Yeah, I think you did, too.” He takes them in his hand and I sit next to him, uncapping the water bottle before handing it to him as well.

“Thank you,” he hiccups.

“You’re welcome.” I look down at my hands as he takes the pills. He goes to hand me the water bottle back but I shake my head, “You need to drink it all. We’re trying to avoid a hangover.”

He just holds the bottle in his lap, not moving to drink anymore of it, so I look back up at him only to find him already staring at me.

“You okay?” I ask.

He hums and reaches forward. He runs his thumb under my eye, “You got an eyelash. I got it,” he mumbles, but he keeps his hand cradling the side of my face.

My eyes search his tired ones, they’re glossed over, but they always get that way when he drinks, making his eyes seem just a little more blue than green.

“Have I told you tonight that you look pretty?” he asks quietly.

“Multiple times,” I confirm.

“Good, because you are… so, so pretty.”

I lick my lips and watch his eyes move from my eyes to my lips and back. I take in a shallow breath as he starts to lean closer. His eyes closed as his face inches toward mine. I push him back gently just before his lips have the chance to connect with mine, and I mean just before because I could feel his breath against my mouth. “What are you doing?” I question.

“I was… I was trying to kiss you. Did you, I thought you wanted to - when we were laying in bed a couple weeks ago, you said you wanted me to kiss you.”

“Well, I… Connor,” I shake my head. I didn’t think he heard me when I said that. “Not like this. Not tonight. Not when you’re drunk and not thinking clearly.” I stand up, pacing slowly in front of him. “If you’re gonna kiss me, I want you to be sober, and to actually want to do it. Not just because we got in a fight earlier. I don’t want this to be something you do now and then completely forget about or ignore, or fuck, even worse, regret in the morning. I don’t want that. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be led on by you again.”

“Again?” He asks, tilting his head at me.

“Nevermind. I should go back out there, start cleaning up so it’s not so much tomorrow.”

“Wait, y/n, please. Stay here, please. Stay with me tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything, I promise. Please, just stay?”

I sigh, “Just until you fall asleep.”

---

It’s nearing eleven in the morning when Shawn finally retreats from his room. He’s not nearly as hungover as I bet the other boys are going to be. If he’s even hungover at all, he doesn’t seem to be.

He leans against the counter, watching me pull my second batch of cookies from the oven. “You’re stress baking,” he observes.

I scoff, “I made muffins too,” I nod in the direction of the counter in front of him where a plate of blueberry muffins sits.

“Ooh,” he reaches forward and takes one, “Not that I like when you’re stressed, but this my favorite of your coping mechanisms.”

“For purely selfish, I presume.”

“Of course,” he says around a mouthful of muffin. “So,” he says after he swallows. “Does this sudden urge to bake have anything to do with what happened last night with Connor?”

I tense up at the memory of Connor leaning in to kiss me. Me pushing him away. “Maybe.”

“So what did happen after I left you two?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head.

“Well, the glorious smell of our kitchen and the spotless living room say otherwise.”

I close my eyes and rub my hands over my face. “He, god, he tried to kiss me.”

“What?” Shawn chokes.

“Shh! You’ll wake them.”

“Oh please, Brain will be asleep until five. Nothing will wake him. He kissed you?! Well, how was it?”

“I said he tried. As in, I didn’t let him. I pushed him away before he could.”

“Why? Don’t you want him to?”

“Of course! But not like that! Not when he’s drunk and not himself. WHen he’s saying stupid things like he wants to make love to me, and that he wishes I was undressing him for the first time under different circumstances.”

“What? He said all of that?! Oh my god! Go, Connor!”

“No, not go Connor. Because he’s not going to remember any of this when he wakes up and I’m going to remember everything and have to pretend that he didn’t say anything or try to kiss me. And I’m stuck being led on once again, except this time he lives just down the hall and I have to see him everyday.”

Shawn sighs, “Okay, you’re right. So, what are you going to do?”

“Same thing I always do.”

He nods, “I’ll get my guitar.”

***

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @magcon7280 @fallinallincurls @goldenflickerx @myyohmyuohmyy @harry-hollands @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs @zaahidahhh @lordescomeback @shawnandconnor @shawnsblue @turtoix @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

#connor brashier #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier blurb #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes Imagine

150 notes · View notes

superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: not superhero themed. I just read midnight sun and had this idea and I don’t feel like making another blog so.... hope you like twilight lol

There will be a part two, and just a reminder, I’m still looking for beta readers so DM if you’re interested!

* It probably starts with you reading midnight sun, you remember reading the books/watching the movies when you were younger.

* Man, you really forgot how bad this book was. The writing itself is good, but the plot...

* It’s like everything revolves around Bella, everything is created for her.

* You almost feel bad for the other characters

* Well, whatever, you’ll finish the rest of the book tomorrow and never think about that awful franchise again.

* When you wake up you feel an ache in your head. But you didn’t drink last night, maybe you’re dehydrated

* You shift, noting the smooth silk of the covers. Now you’re alarmed.

* You don’t have silk sheets

* You see a mirror in the corner of the room, and rush over

* The face that looks back at you is different then yours

* It’s the same in some ways, but different all the same

* The curve of your nose is slightly off, your lips are thinner, eyes a little closer together.

* The memories begin to flood in, in this world you were on a graduation trip with your parents, you got an all inclusive package. Three days of sightseeing in Volterra.

* You got sick on the last day, when you were signed for a tour of the castle, your parents went without you

* That was the last you saw of them

* You dumbly followed, asking question where you shouldn’t. And ended up at the volturi’s door

* Aro had grasped your hand to see how much you knew, only too see nothing. Likewise Jane’s powers did not work as well

* They were astounded by this, it appears this was several years before Bella was introduced to the story

* And so, you became a prisoner of the tower

* Your soul must have been in this body for quite some time, but you’ve only remembered now, that’s the only explanation for why their powers didn’t work on you. Your consciousness is not of this world.

* There’s a short knock on your door

* “Are you decent?”

* You call back and Alec pops his head in.

* “Ready to go to the library?”

* He looks so kind. The boyish grin that stretched across his face as you shook your head.

* It was in direct contrast to the sadistic personality you had become accustomed to in the books

* “I need a few more minutes”

* You half expect him to lash out at you for being slow. By he only nods, closing the door and waiting outside for you to finish.

* He was you friend. You realized

* He IS your friend

* You think back as you turn on the faucet. He didn’t like you at first, being assigned to guard a human was insulting

* But he started to warm up to you once he heard you play the piano

* This body was quite used to the ivory keys. And so you charmed him as best you could, half for your survival, because the happier you kept him the less likely he was to kill you.

* And half because- you were so lonely, the Loneliness echoed in this body like an ache. Suddenly an orphan, in a continent where you knew no one. All you had was this boy.

* How long have you been here? You kept a talley at one point, but abandoned it after the thirtieth day. What was the point? You would either die or become one of them

* A shiver erupts through at the thought, in your past life you were a vegetarian, you didn’t relish in the idea of killing something alive and moving.

* You pull on a sweatshirt, ripping of the chanel tag. They bought you the nicest things money could buy, the most lavish food you could have.

* They did the same thing with the tourists they lured, keeping them happy and well fed, the same way the cows that became wagyu beef might be cared for. That way when it came time to slaughter, the meal was that much more delicious.

* You suspected this was similar, that should you be an unnecessary addition, you would make a meal suitable for their palette

* Alec basically talks your ear off the entire way to the Volturi library, mostly about literature

* “What are your thoughts on Anna Kerenina?”

* “That the patriarchy needs to be burned to the ground.”

* “That is.... valid”

* He even talks when you’re at the library, much to the annoyance of a few of the other patrons

* “Which book are you looking for now?”

* You stop mid motion on the ladder and turn to look at him. His ruby eyes glowing, he looks bloated. Like he’s fed too much.

* “Alec, why are we friends?”

* You really should keep your mouth shut. Alec was the only real ally you had, you shouldn’t say anything that might put him off

* And yet, it unnerved you, because the Alec in front of you was a very different character then the one you had come to see.

* He looks at you like you hung the moon,

* “Because you’re the most interesting human in the world”

* You burst out laughing, earning several glares.

* “I-I’m sorry Alec, but I’m not, I’m just the most interesting human you KNOW, there’s way more people who are more interesting than me.”

* You expect to see him offended, and he does, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes

* “I’m not so sure about that”

* The days creep by, reading books, eating snacks, it’s nice

* You learn, that Alec hasn’t talked to a human in a very long time. Outside of the screams he heard after devouring one.

* He hasn’t been outside the castle walls in many years, possibly a century.

* “What’s the best part of the human world?” He asked you once

* It’s the 90’s, so smartphones haven’t been invented yet.

* “One tree hill and friends”

* “Well you have a friend right here”

* “No friends the show”

* “The what?”

* And that’s how you got Alec hooked onto cable television

* Who knew the cure to vampire- sadism was a healthy dose of Jennifer Aniston fumbling about on screen

* “Is this what life is like?”

* You shrug, it was what college had been like for you in your past life.

* “It’s kinda what schools like, but i never got to be on my own”

* This body was only 18 after all.

* Alec doesn’t say anything, but his expression falters

* Alec’s only now starting to understand the life you will be denied once Aro decides when to turn you

* Jane joins later

* One day when you and Alec are lazing around the library when she appears, she says nothing, just sits down next to Alec and reads a book

* You’re sure they hear the uneven thumping of your heart as you turn back to your book. Her power doesn’t work on you, you remind yourself

* Not that she even needs it, she could snap you apart like a Kit Kat bar

* And if it came down to it, you’re sure Alec would let her, he might like you but his loyalty’s always remained with his sister

* “So... you watch human television together?” Her bright red eyes flickered from Alec to you.

* You nodded, never sure what exactly it was that would set Jane off

* You had seen enough in the books to know her moods were compatible at best.

* “I would...like to join” she awkwardly looking away, and you were sure if she could, she would be blushing.

* Honestly it’s kind of cute.

* “Sure, the more the merrier”

* And that’s how you basically adopted the sadist twins

* It’s a little harder to get Jane to open up, but once you make a comment about how Phoebe was the best character in friends, she starts to open up

* “Humans are cruel, even when they’re kind it’s only because they want something from you.”

* “Is that what you think about me? That I’m only nice to you because I want something?” she meets your eyes for a few minutes before turning away

* “I’m not sure”

* You understand very gradually why they’re so twisted

* They’d been treated terribly during their human life, in every kind act lingered a dark shadow, in even minor misunderstanding the image of a monster

* Their centuries in the Volturi didn’t help. Under Aro’s ruthless tutelage, and Caius’s sadistic tendencies, They had no one they could trust but each other.

* They were only surviving just as you were

* “Sometimes I wonder how much of my loyalty is real, and how much of it is Chelsea.” She whispers one day, so quietly you barley hear it

* You rest your hand on hers, it’s the only comfort you could think to offer

* When Jane grasps your hand in hers, she breaks every bone in your hand

* She doesn’t understand the pained screams or your mangled hand fit a second, and then she realizes what she did

* Alarmed she carries you halfway around the castle screeching for someone to help

* You pass out from the pain, when you come to you’re in your bed, a very cold hand holding your own

* “How are you feeling?” You don’t recognize this vampire, but you don’t really know anyone outside of Alec and Jane.

* You feel light headed, a warm feeling washing over you, you must be on some strong drugs

* “My body’s still grieving, but my mind is sharp.”

* It’s incoherent at best, but there’s truth to it, your body is still grieving for your parents and the life you’ve lost, but your otherworldly mind is ten steps ahead, cross referencing every action.

* The man offers a short chuckle

* “You really did a number on your hand. I’ve done what I can but...”

* You look down to your hand, half surprised by the bright yellow cast encasing it

* You had figured you would wake up to be a vampire, it just made sense, these were unfamiliar human aches to them after all and vampirism was a simple and effective cure

* They must want something from you, if they’re keeping you human

* You suspect it’s something along the lines of how they waited until Jane and Alec were burning at the stake to save them, so their power would be that much more potent

* Maybe they’re doing the opposite with you, trying to make you as happy as possible to see what effect it has on your ability

* It’s too bad you don’t have one

* “Thank you for your hard work.” You mumble, being human for a little bit longer is well worth the pain.

* “How did you break your hand?”

* “I held Janes’ hand”

* Your doctor let’s out a short laugh

* “That sounds about right”

* You smile, it does sound right, of course you would break your hand that way

* The conversation flows naturally after that, you talk about all sorts of things

* “You think vampires have souls?” He quirks an eyebrow

* “I’m of the opinion that a soul is something you create through hardship and struggle, being able to live longer means that you have more opportunities to have the experiences that result in a soul”

* “That’s an intriguing notion, I wish I had brought my son with me.”

* You’re about to ask about his son, when you’re interrupted by the door swimming open

* “I heard you were awake, are you alright?” Alec rushes in, his eyes frantic

* “Yeah these drugs are top notch” you press the button that releases the pain killers and let out a giggle

* “Is that alright? Humans are awfully sensitive.” Jane pipes up from behind Alec, you hadn’t noticed her in your haze.

* Your doctor chuckles

* “I’m aware,” he’s smiling but it’s strained

* “What’s wrong?” You ask, he was so calm until a second ago, he doesn’t answer you

* “I’ll give you three a moment.”

* You only register he’s gone when you hear the door close

* The twins rush over to you, Jane is kneeled by your side, while Alec hovers over you

* “I-I’m sorry I hurt you, I forgot-I didn’t remember.” You we’re sure Jane would be crying if she could

* “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.” You raise your cast encased hand and give her a gentle pat on the head. “From now on, physical signs of affection will just be one sided.” You joke, which makes Jane grin

* “I’ll practice with some animals before I try touching you again”

* The three of you chat for a bit, they’re both surprised by your cast and ask several questions about its “primary function”

* “I didn’t know there was a doctor here” you murmur, feeling drowsy

* “Carlisle’s not with the Volturi, he’s from another coven in the new world.”

* Your drowsiness flies away in a second

* “That was Carlisle?”

* Jane looks somewhat confused but nods.

* A flutter of hope erupts in your chest, it’s so strong even your grief stricken body feels it

* You might have a chance. It’s slim, Carlisle has a family he loves and needs to protect. But still, they were strangers once too. No different than you.

* It’s a way out of here

* The next few days follow in a drugged haze, Alec and Jane visit every so often, and Carlisle engages you in occasional conversation while checking progress on your hand

* “Why are your eyes gold?” You know, but well, you need him to believe the lie

* “It’s a bit of a long story” he says with a wary smile.

* “I’m not going anywhere”

* He sighs, a genuine smile encompassing his face as he recounts the tale.

* Even though you’ve already heard it all before, it still makes you cry

* Even in the haze, you know something’s.... off

* There’s something about the way Alec won’t meet your eyes when he talks to you, and the uneasy weight that lingers in the air whenever someone else is in the room

* On the third day, it’s Aro who visits you, Alec and Carlisle in tow behind him.

* “Oh my, all that internal bleeding, how awful”

* Even you can feel the insincerity, but it’s the first you heard about internal bleeding

* So that explains it, the drugs and the aches all along your body, it wasn’t just your hand, you were dying

* “Don’t worry, we’ll save you” Aro’s smile is cruel “won’t we Alec?”

* Alec looks afraid, almost pained, but he nods

* Ah, so this was punishment for Alec too. Until that moment, when Jane broke your hand, Aro must have been ignorant to how close the three of you had gotten.

* You close your eyes, you knew this would happen eventually. There were only two ending to this story, and it seemed one had finally been picked

* You feel a pinch on your neck, right above your collar bone, no worse than a flue shot.

* You wait for the pain, the vivid screams you remember from the books and movies, but it never comes.

* Instead it’s just a warm numbness that spreads across your neck and left shoulder.

* “It doesn’t hurt” you murmur, you feel a cold hand rest against your forehead, Alex’s hand.

* It’s so gentle, he must have practiced on some animals first, you think.

* “No the pain comes later.”

* And so you drift into inky black unconsciousness, the last sleep of your human life in this world.

* You dream that you’re sitting at the bottom of a tree, a fig tree, like the one Sylvia Plath wrote about

* Each fig a different path, half of them have already fallen off, dark, as they rot at your feet

* “How do you do it?”

* You look to your side and find the person who’s face you see in the mirror, they’re hugging their knees to their chest, dark circles under their eyes

* “How do I do what?” You ask, they bite their lip

* “How can you be so strong when you’ve just lost everything?”

* You see their eyes brim with tears, and you look away, to the tree that looks over you both

* “I don’t know” It’s the truth, you have an unfair advantage in this world, because you know all the secrets each person carries, while yours remain shrouded in darkness. And yet... it’s not why you persevere

* “All I do know, is that I want to give them hell”

* Your counterpart grins at that, and to your surprise, you feel a smile stretch out across your face

* Yeah, it’s not about power, you just want raise some hell in this backwards misogynistic world.

* “I guess that’s the one you’re picking then huh?” Your counterpart points to a fig, it’s on the tallest branch of the tree, so far out of reach it almost seems unobtainable

* But you only nod

* “Yeah, I think that’s the way I’m going to go”

* They look at you and smile.

* “If you ever get the chance, I hope you punch that jerk Aro right in the face”

* You laugh.

* When you finally awake, you’re still laughing. A smile etched onto your face.

* Everyone’s there, all looking at you with concerned glances.

* Yeah, you’re going to have a lot of fun in this world.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #Volturi headcanon #Alec imagine #edward cullen imagine #carlisle cullen #superhero--imagines

1K notes · View notes

myc-ology-whore · 2 years

Text

random myc hcs/notes, pt. 1

note: i don't actually know whether these complete thoughts count as headcanons or not, i just don't know what else to call them lol

edit: mentions of sex, drugs, and alcohol use, but nothing explicit

under the cut for space reasons

ok so like, this is obviously all speculation, but here's a few random thoughts i've got:

when you first start hanging out around myc, he might literally be the biggest asshole you've ever met; it's easy to wonder how anybody like him could possibly be so close to someone as good-natured and amicable as andre or brett.

getting to know him is rough. he's very cynical and sarcastic even when he's talking to people he actually calls friends, so he can come across as a dick, but frankly he's well aware of his shitty attitude. as you spend more time around him, it'll become obvious that this is sort of his defense mechanism.

you see, myc's been around a long time. he's taken an interest in several humans over the centuries, and although there were very few he'd say he genuinely ended up caring for, those few only lived for a fraction of his lifespan. it hurt, but loss is something you learn to live with when you're practically immortal. however, he still remains guarded; although he doesn't completely shut himself away from friendships, as we've clearly seen, he makes a conscious effort not to allow just anyone to get too close to him.

i believe someone mentioned that at the beginning of inside job, the gang has been working together for around a year. i'd imagine it didn't take long for andre and myc to become buddies because of their shared hedonistic views, but to actually become friends with everyone probably took a lot longer, and most of them at this point still don't seem to know too much about him or his life outside the office. reagan didn't even know what his major function at cognito inc was until the second episode, which says a lot if the group really has been working together for a year.

so, when someone does get to know him, i feel like myc makes an effort to make it known that they're special. i think it's a common assumption that andre and myc are best friends regardless of whether they're in or out of the office, and i agree with that notion. i wouldn't be surprised to find out that they were roommates honestly; these two give me really heavy fry-and-bender vibes. (shoutout to all the other futurama fans out there, wsg) i like to think they hang out pretty frequently at myc's place in alexandria, since (assuming they don't live together) it's a lot more spacious than andre's little apartment. i don't think that bringing someone over to his house is a normal occurrence at all if it isn't andre, like not even the rest of the gang knows where he actually lives, so if you ever set foot in there just know you're special. i mean even the very rare times where he brings a hookup to his actual house, they get kicked out right after their... business transaction is done; myc isn't afraid to be assertive or an asshole, as we've established, so i feel like those rare hookups he does bring over, he just immediately uses one of those memory wipe things and tells them to fuck off.

also small detail, but those memory wipes: he has unlimited access to them. I mean, they're literally made with his jizz, how could cognito keep him away from them? so yeah, the fact that he has a rightswipe account tells me he does often hook up with randoms before clearing their minds of any trace of himself and moving on. i think those memory wipes must be a lot like the neuralyzers from men in black, as silly as it sounds: the subject will be gullible/impressionable for a few crucial minutes after they've been dosed, which means myc has enough time to give them a little story to explain what happened to them, that way they don't think they got roofied or gangr*ped or something traumatic like that.

obviously he drinks and does drugs, but personally i don't really think he does them an unhealthy amount until he's with andre. when he gets off work (a.k.a. his daily mass jerk-off session) he goes straight to mcultra's for a beer, maybe two, and he gets them during their happy hour (3-6pm, according to a poster on a bulletin board in the atrium of cognito) because he's kind of a penny-pincher. then he goes home, watches some tv or plays some video games, and goes to sleep. if he's had a bad day, maybe he'll drink some wine when he gets home (he likes to think it makes him fancy) or invite andre over to get high with him, but getting wasted isn't an every day endeavor. i just think it'd be too much work; we've seen before that he has a pretty high tolerance to most things. yeah, he's got the money to afford it, but it just takes so long to get where he wants to be, it's not usually worth it unless andre's got something real fucked up for them to try.

that's all i'm gonna write for now, but i'm definitely gonna post some hcs of myc with his s/o soon. i'm getting a headache from sitting here writing for so long lol.

#inside job #myc #magic myc #inside job hcs #andre lee #tw drug mention #cognito inc #myc really isn't a bad guy #gonna write some more shit abt his stupid ass tmrw

65 notes · View notes

heartcal · 3 years

Text

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual),

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?” you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

263 notes · View notes

redorich · 3 years

Text

It stays in the pit

TW: sparring, weapons, cuts, fighting, hallucinations, minor mention of blood, angst

Hey it’s Split again! Follow me maybe? @split-em I have a lot more oneshots like these coming!

I like attention so maybe drop a like if you enjoy this! It’s about Hermit!Tommy sparring False,, but with a twist!!

This actually has so many words my fingers hurt aaaaaaaaa

Hey uh idk how to do a read more,, maybe if you want you can do that again pleasey? Also I love your hermit Tommy stuff keep up the great work!

(redorich here, thank you for the food lol)

‘It stays in the pit.’

Simple words that mean oh, so much.

When you’re reminded of the horrible memories that come with those words WHILE fighting, they mean so much more.

The newest build on hermitcraft is an underground, boxing ring style pit. There are stairs leading into a giant room below ground level with audience benches, a storage room with every different kind of weapon and armour, and a boxing ring in the middle.

When False offered to spar Tommy, she suggested they could do it in the new build that had not yet had its first official match. What made it even better, was that this would be Tommy’s first actual match against False since he first came to the server. She has been training him for months, improving his fighting techniques and strategies. You could say he went under her wing, and now he was ready to spread his own. This was a ‘student duels master’ fight, and the hermits wanted to witness it. They wanted to see how much Tommy had improved.

Though they over exaggerated juuuust slightly, because that sparring suggestion turned into a three (3) round mini tournament, and every single hermit wanted to watch.

Annoyingly bright lights shine down on the otherwise dark, amazingly massive room. The adrenaline in the air is intoxicating; downright addicting. Voices yell loudly, people scream and shout while waving, cameras are out, and Iskall is taking bets by the entrance.

Tommy and False stand across from each other, a confident smirk on each of their faces. The handle of an iron sword is gripped tightly in their hands, and the hermits watching are on the edge of their seats already. Tension mixed with excitement crashes down in waves. It chokes Tommy, but also sends his blood pressure through the roof. He feels like his head is underwater, but he’s walking on clouds. Never in his life has he been so excited yet so scared.

But god, does he want to win.

He exhaled, practically bouncing back and fourth as he waited for the countdown. False’s stare made him break into a cold sweat, but he composed himself. ‘This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if we were alone,’ he thought ‘but this is way more exciting than just fighting on the ground.’

That’s when he heard it.

Tommy looked up. The mayor, Scar, sat higher than any hermit in a chair on a ledge like you’d find in those old time-y theatres. His smile was proud, and he arched with peaked interest. “Holy shit,” Tommy breathed out, glancing back to his opponent “the mayor..”

B-Dub’s voice could be heard shouting with glee. He clearly was just as pumped as the rest of the audience, and you could head the smile in his voice as he counted down through a megaphone.

“Remember, no hard feelings. This is for fun!”

The fighter’s eyes met. False gave him a nod, Tommy looked down at his sword.

“WE ALL GOOD?!”

Tommy was shaking, out of fear or adrenaline he couldn’t tell.

“READY!”

False took in the younger boy, all she could think of was how proud of him she was. Look how far he had came. He went from this quiet and kept to himself boy, to an amazing friend that was full of energy.

“STEADY!”

Impulse looked quite concerned. He didn’t think it would become this big of deal, the sparring offer. But here he sat, chewing on his nails, waiting for what would happen. The rate the energy here made his heart rate increase was higher than any amount of sports drink or red bull could ever manage.

“SET!”

Tommy laughed. He needed to release everything. So he laughed, and felt all his stress melt away. Right now, fight. Right now, focus. Fight like she taught you.

“GO!”

Instantly, the teenager made the first move. No hesitation and certainly no mercy was shown as he swung his sword quick as lightning. It collided with the wood of False’s shield and he was thrown back slightly. False used this to her advantage and advanced on him, slicing horizontally with a small shake of her head.

“FALSE!! GO FALSE!!”

“TOMMY, DODGE!”

Tommy ducked, barely missing the sharp blade, and decided to fake. He stepped forward, jerking the sword forward and waited for False’s shield to come down from it’s position in front of her face before the cold metal cut her shoulder. His next swing was parried, and False managed to make him stumble to the ground as their blades touched and they both pushed with all their might. Cheers rang out, but both fighters knew it wasn’t over.

“WHAT THE-“

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING!”

“COME ON KID, LETS GO!”

He saw her raise her sword in the corner of his eye, and in an instant he rolled to the left. Successfully dodging the attack, Tommy quickly put an arrow in a crossbow and hit her..in the wrong arm. “Shit” he hissed. What would Technoblade think of that stupid mistake? False used the pause to take him by surprise and use her other arm to slash him in the thigh with her newly equipped iron axe.

“GET UP, GET UP!”

“COME ON DUDE, GET UP”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand. The boy raised one hand, and False stepped away with a smile. If this was anyone else, Tommy would’ve gotten angry. He would’ve cursed them out or spat on their shoe. But this was False, and he knew that smile was one of genuine happiness.

“THE WINNER OF ROUND ONE (1) IS FALSE!”

Screeches and ‘awws’ were muffled in Tommy’s ears by the sound of his heart. He panted, before a dopey grin found it’s way to his face. False helped the other stand, and Cleo was quick to administer healing potions to both of them. “Never let your guard down.” False advised. He could tell she wasn’t mad, but rather in the mood for a quick lesson.

Once the hermit’s noise had died down and the fighters were back in their corners, all healed to full health and full saturation, round two (2) began.

“READY!”

“I’m gonna beat ya, bitch” he swore in his now usual Tommy fashion. False shook her head and couldn’t bite back the chuckle that escaped her

“STEADY!”

“Stop swearing. And, in your dreams.”

“SET!”

“Lets turn this up then, yeah?”

“GO!”

It was different now, they both turned up the heat. They couldn’t help it, it was so much fun to spar and the hermits’ energy only made them feel better and more excited.

Tommy was first again, sprinting towards the older then jumping high with arms gripping an axe above his head. False held her shield up and ran, blocking his attack.

“OH MY GOD!”

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE LAST TIME”

He slid back with a smirk and their blades collided again. False started running. Tommy loaded a crossbow and advanced, quickly dashing behind her and shooting her back. False hit the ground hard, but held up as she kicked forward and got back on her feet.

“YES! GO FALSE!”

“COME ON TOMMY, DONT TAKE THAT”

“TAKE HER DOWN!”

They ran together, Tommy swung, she dodged, she swung, he jumped out of the way. False blocked an incoming sword swing, but was shocked when she was jerked forward after a fish hook implanted itself in her shirt.

“WHAT??”

“WAIT WHAT”

He cried out, laughing the loudest he had in a long time, as he pulled False towards him with a fishing rod. He pinned her to the ground with his sword pointed to her neck. His grin spanned ear to ear.

“TOMMY!!! WOO LETS GOO!”

“THAT WAS AMAZING HOLY SHIT”

An uproar was heard, people were standing up and others stared in amazement. They totally forgot that was allowed, it seemed. False didn’t really think to use the fishing rod, she didn’t think Tommy would bother to either. But, Etho insisted on it anyway just in case. Same with the crossbow.

False raised a hand, accepting defeat. Tommy helped her up this time, his sweaty palm and bony fingers holding her hand that had knuckles white from her death grip on her sword. Impulse helped Cleo to pass them towels. The break started, and the two returned to their corners once again.

“TOMMY WINS ROUND 2 (2)!”

Tommy popped the cap off his water bottle and chugged it, gasping for breath. He had no idea how tired he was until now. His bones ached and his body screamed to stop, but he payed it no mind once again. He used the towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Cleo rubbed a healing potion onto his wounds. “You’re doing amazing, that fishing rod trick was awesome.”

“Thanks, Dream taught me it after I saw him use it in a manhunt.”

He stood back up, babbling on about how ‘all the women are going to be cheering me on when I win.’ False rolled her eyes “focus, Tommy. Women can wait.”

“WOMEN ARE IMPORTANT. I WOULD KNOW, IM A LESBIAN. WAIT, NO-“

“FINAL ROUND!!! THIS IS THE FINAL ROUND!”

Grian and Mumbo sat next to one another, the smaller of the two standing up with his hands on the rail in front of him as he cheered. He wanted to cheer for both, but he supposed for the sake of competition he had to pick a side, and decided he would support his newest friend Tommy. “LETS GOO! COME ON,, WOO!! GO TOMMY!!”

“READY!!”

“Tommy, I want you to know, no hard feelings, okay?” False looked at him. It wasn’t with pity, but friendship. Tommy nodded. “No matter what happens, it stays here.”

“STEADY!!!”

“It stays in the pit.” The moustached man mumbled, arms crossed and watching the two with peaked interest.

“What?” Grian questioned, sending a puzzled glance to the other hermit.

“It stays in the pit. Techno said it to me as a joke, he said it was something his friends said when he and Tommy duelled.” He explained, not taking his eyes off the boxing ring in the centre of the practically stadium-sized room.

“Oh..” Grian thought for a moment, before a smile formed on his face once again.

“SET!!!”

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT, TOMMY!!” He cheered, putting his fist in the air. He tried his hardest to make his voice heard, despite sitting a little ways away.

“What?” Tommy’s voice was small, and his eyes widened. His whole being stood still. Who was that? They didn’t..they didn’t just say..?

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT!!”

His eyes darted around the room, and suddenly the underground room seemed a lot smaller.

Tommy had never considered it a ‘pit.’ To him, it was a just a boxing ring that was below ground level slightly. It had no significance. He didn’t care what it was, he was just happy to have somewhere to fight.

But after hearing that, suddenly he was back in that dammed pit with his damned brother and his damned friends watching him

But after hearing that, suddenly False was no longer across from him

It was Technoblade

“GO GO GO!!!”

His iron sword dropped to the ground. “You killed Tubbo.” A look False had never seen before came across Tommy, and she didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t right.

All he could feel was pure rage. It fuelled his actions. The teen basically flew towards False at full speed. “What-“

“YOU KILLED TUBBO!” She was cut off as Tommy pinned her to the floor, “Tommy stop-“

“SHUT UP!” He spat violently, seeing nothing but red. His skinny hands clenched into fists as he threw punch after punch into her face.

“TOMMY!”

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK, GET HIM OFF”

“GET HIM OUT OF THE RING!” Scar ordered, his voice booming out over the crowds shocked gasps

“YOU BETRAYED POGTOPIA” He shouted, his voice loud and rough. This wasn’t Tommy. His eyes were cold and piercing, his face was flushed “YOU CALLED SCHLATT PRESIDENT, YOU SICK FUCK. YOU BETRAYED US!!” Big, salty tears ran down his cheeks as False’s wrists that attempted to block the punches were twisted. She screeched out in pain.

“ILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!” Tommy knuckles bled, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. All he ever wanted that day was to kill Technoblade. Techno had killed his best friend, and betrayed his own family. He deserved to die. “YOU BETRAYED ME AND WILBUR. I WANT TO KILL YOU!!”

Tommy’s arms were restrained by Etho and Doc. “LET ME GO, LET ME GO!” He trashed and kicked, blinded by anger and hurt. They exchanged horrified glances, and tried to calm him down. Nothing worked.

False was crying. Her eyes were already swelling up and she was just in the purest form of pain. Some hermits comforted her, while others dragged Tommy out of the ring and away from whatever the fuck just happened.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK” he was screamed at by a couple people, while being shaken by the ones that could tell this wasn’t what it seemed.

“Stop it! Stop you’re making it worse! Let me through” Impulse pushed his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he saw the young boy snarling and pulling to get out of the two men’s grips. Tommy looked feral. “Stop crowding him!”

He knelt down and gently shook the other.

“Tommy, you’re in Hermitcraft. Okay? Grian’s here, Impulse is here, False is here. Technoblade is gone. Tubbo is okay. You’re safe, you’re in Hermitcraft.” He sighed with relief as Tommy came to, the anger in his eyes being replaced with tiredness and confusion.

“Wha..” Tommy went to grab his head, only to find his arms restrained. He panicked, “NO DREAM IM SORRY-“

“Calm down! Tommy you’re safe, you are restrained by Doc and Etho right now, okay? You tried to kill False.” Impulse explained

“I what?!” Tommy gasped, still trying to wiggle his way out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would he ever want to kill False?! Last thing he could remember is that he was sparring, then someone shouted something about..

“..the pit.” His voice went quiet. Impulse nodded in understanding. “Technoblade”

“..yeah.” Tommy thought about what happened. He thought False was his brother. He..he tried to hurt False.

Back in the audience, Grian sat completely still, staring in shock. Mumbo had a hand clamped over his mouth. The smaller looked to his friend, scared. “Mumbo, Did..did Techno tell you why he duelled Tommy?” He shook his head

“No..but he said Tommy wasn’t happy Techno won. I thought he meant the dude was a sore loser..”

Grian and Tommy exhale in sync, their hearts beating fast and hard, trying to process everything.

“What the fuck did I just do”

—————

This has like,, 2 700 words kill meeee

Well I hope you enjoyed that, I accidentally hyperfixated on the idea of Tommy getting pit flashbacks after reading an ask about it so now it’s 3AM! I got this done in 2 hours!

Should I upload these to Ao3??? Let me know!

#hc x dsmp #mcyt #hermit!tommy au #tommyinnit #grian #technoblade #falsesymmetry #other peoples writing #submission

264 notes · View notes

jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Falling Back Into Your Bed

Summary: One night was enough to have you crawling back to him

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: college!au, (smut 18+!!), fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, degradation, Eren's a little shit, little bit of ass smacking, mentions of sex under the influence (consensual), enemies to lovers sort of?

Word Count: 3120

A/N: This is has been in the drafts for a while, and it wasn't supposed to take the turn it was supposed to but I'm happy with it lmaoo. Completely unrelated, but I like making headers lol

It happened one time. To say you weren't really in the straightest mindset, but it happened once and now you're hooked. Your brain only filled with those images from that night. You groan as you pull at your hair, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on studying. Your brain completely occupied.

"You seem troubled? Need some help?" The snarky comment comes from your right, and you scoff as you rub your forehead.

"Shut the fuck up," you spit with a little more aggression than you intended as you try to focus on anything but that amazing night.

"You thinking about that night? It could always happen again." The words whispered against your skin makes the images flash fully in your head, and you push him away from you, which only gets a chuckle in return.

"Fuck off, Jaeger," you groan as you close your textbook.

"You alright?" Sasha asks you, and you sigh as you nod.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day. I think I'm gonna head back to my dorm." You end your study session with your friends, stuffing your books in your bag, giving them a wave of goodbye as you walk out of the library, sighing in content when the sun rays hit your skin.

You slept with Eren. The only person who can get on your nerves to the nth degree. You woke up in horror realizing what you did, but the horror was that you liked it. It was amazing, the best sex you've ever had. Of course, it has to come from the person you despise the most.

It was a party that Jean wanted you to go to, and he happened to be there, annoying you to no end as he usually is, and then he was kissing you, and then you're walking up to his room and the rest is history. The memories of that night flood your head again.

The way his hands felt hot against your skin, branding a path all over your body. The way his lips brushed all over your skin, stopping to show some parts of your body some love by sucking dark marks onto the skin that took you forever to cover up.

The way his d--

Wait, stop! What am I doing?

You shake your head as you take another deep breath. This is not how you thought your week was going to go.

"I don't know if you have mind-blowing sex what's the big deal? I'm failing to see the problem," Hitch says, and you roll your eyes as you fall back on your bed.

"The problem is that I don't like him. He gets on my last nerve. Why can't I have amazing sex with a guy that I don't wanna stab on a daily basis?" you argue, and Hitch scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

"Well, maybe it's the fact that you don't like each other that's making the sex great."

"I just wanna stop thinking about it," you admit.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be bothering him as much as it is you," she responds, and that part is what makes you the most irritated and confused.

You were sure you weren't that bad, but it's like he isn't even fazed by it, only teasing you about it in the best way possible. You groan as you roll over, burying your face in your pillow.

The only reason why you're forced to interact with him is that you're friends with Armin who's best friends with Eren. If that wasn't the case, you probably would never see him again, let alone be in the same room as him where he can annoy you.

"Whatever. Maybe I just need to get laid again, get him off my mind," you mumble into the pillow, and you know Hitch is giving you a look without even turning your head.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say," she muses. "Speaking of getting laid, there's another party tonight if you want to go."

You turn your head to the side to face her. "Weren't you just a party last weekend?" you comment, and she shrugs.

"You only live once." You raise your eyebrows at her answer but shrug anyway.

"If I don't have anything to do, then I'll go."

You should've stayed the fuck home because this party is not it. You don't know if it's because you really don't want to be here or the fact that you're sober, but you can't help but sigh in annoyance as you walk through the crowd until you find a corner where anyone isn't making out.

You nurse your drink, but the taste of the beer is slowly making you sick after two sips, so you just hold it to give you something to do. "You look like you're having fun."

You roll your eyes at the familiar voice, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "I should've known you'd be here." You knew that you should've listened to that weird feeling in the back of your head the moment you stepped into the room. "I'm not really feeling it," you say, and he steps closer to you.

"Well, we could always go somewhere else, and I can make you scream while I split you open on my dick again." You clench your jaw as you find something else to look at, trying and failing to ignore the way his words make your body hot all over.

You scoff. "Yeah, in your dreams."

"Really? You don't miss this?" he asks, pulling you into him, and you can't help when your mouth falls open slightly your breath hitching. "Cause I sure miss the way your tight pussy clamped around me."

Your thighs squeeze together subconsciously as you let out a small moan, luckily it's muffled by the music, but he doesn't miss your reaction. "Yeah, I'll pass," you muster, and he smirks as he chuckles.

"Fine, have it your way. The offer still stands," he says before he walks away, and you sigh heavily as you drink from your cup. You have to get out of here.

Eren can't take his eyes off of you as you walk around the room. You've filled your cup back up, but you haven't drank from it, the only thing on your face is that you want to get out of here. Even as you talk to some blond guy, Reiner he thinks his name is, your face is very evident in showing that you're tired of this conversation, but you're too nice to leave.

He walked over to talk to you just to tease you but ended up doing the same thing to himself. He finds it funny that you seem to deny what happened between you two even though you reacted the way you did. If he could take you in front of all these people, he would.

Well, he can, but he's better than that.

He doesn't tell you this, he doesn't think he will, but you're the only thing that's been on his mind, but he's just better at hiding it. He can't count how many times he's thought about your body, the noises you made, how fucked out you looked as you took his dick. Every time he touches himself, those are the only things he thinks about.

And every single time he finishes, he declares that he's going to get you back into his bed.

Which is why he decided to come to this party even though he didn't want to. He knew Hitch would drag you out here, and he knew that there was no way he was letting you go.

He almost feels bad for the guy. Even though he can't hear the conversation, he knows Reiner is trying and failing to woo you with his awful flirting tactics. He can recognize your fake laugh from a mile away.

He decides that he can't stand to watch this horror show any longer, and he moves over to where you are, rolling his eyes at a lame pick-up line he hears come from him. "Hey, I need to talk to you," he buds in, and you give him a look.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation." You state the obvious, and he gives you a lazy look.

"Yeah, not really," he responds, and you squint at him. "Come on, it'll take a second."

You sigh, giving in before turning to the buff guy next to you. "I'll be right back," you tell him, and only Eren knows that that's not true.

He eyes Eren before giving you a smile and a nod, and you follow Eren as you walk the too familiar walk to his room. He closes the door behind him when you walk in, and you cross your arms. "What was so important that you had to pull me from my conversation?" you question, annoyed, and he smiles at you.

"Yeah, it totally looked like you were enjoying that little chat." You roll your eyes as he takes your cup out of your hand, setting it on his dresser. "How much have you had?"

You frown at him. "To drink? Not enough because it's difficult to have a conversation with you sober."

He chuckles lightly as he walks closer to you until your knees hit the bed. "Can I say something?" he asks, and you try to act like his close proximity isn't bothering you.

"If it'll make this end sooner."

"All I've thought about is that night," he tells you, and he moves closer, making you fall down onto the bed as you look up at him with wide eyes. He hovers over you, one hand on the mattress next to you, the other trailing down your body, making goosebumps break out over your skin.

"How good you felt, how loud you were, how fucking soaked you were." His lips brush against yours as he runs a hand down your tube top, biting your lip when he rolls his finger over your nipple.

"What does this have to do with me being sober?" you ask breathlessly, and he smirks as his hand moves down to your shorts, and he doesn't miss the way your thighs tense like you don't know whether to close them or not.

"Because I want to see if I can make you scream just as loud." He crashes his lips down on yours, making you squeak in surprise before you finally let him in, moaning when his tongue rubs over the roof of your mouth.

You thought your thoughts about Eren would change if you were sober, but he's just as addicting as he was that night, and you find it difficult to object to anything he's doing.

He crawls with you as you move up further on the bed, your body flushing hot all over. He works your shirt off, throwing it somewhere off to the side before trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck before moving to your chest.

Your hand makes its way into his hair, messing up the bun that it was in as he mouths at your nipples, pulling the taut bud with his teeth and his fingers before switching. "Did I ever tell you that you have nice tits?" he tells you with a playful smile on his face as he fondles them, and you scoff at his childish comment as you shift on the bed, the rough abrasion of your shorts against your crotch becoming extremely uncomfortable.

He works his shirt off as he slides down your body, his lips just grazing your skin to be teasing, and he unbuttons your shorts, peeling them off your legs, letting out a huff when his eyes land on your panties.

"You're so fucking wet," he mumbles, and you hiss at the cool air hitting your sensitive core when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs. You start to say something when he doesn't move, but you let out a low moan in surprise when he licks a broad stripe up your folds.

Your back arches off the bed at the sudden stimulation, and he lays an arm over your hips to keep you still, his other hand digging into the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you spread open. "And you taste so fucking good," he groans as he moves from licking between your folds to flicking at your clit.

"Fuck, Eren," you whine, pulling at the roots when his tongue prods at your hole.

"Come on, baby, I know you can be louder than that," he challenges, pushing one of your legs over to give him more room. His tongue prods at your hole before he replaces it with his fingers, his mouth going back to focus on your clit.

He's already curling two fingers inside of you as he sucks on the bundles of nerves, pulling it into his mouth, before circling his tongue around the bud. What you definitely didn't forget was how amazing his head game was. Your toes curl as the grip on his hair tightens, and it takes a few more pumps on his fingers hitting that sensitive spot inside of you to make you cum, moaning loudly as your orgasm hits.

"There we go. That's better," Eren says before moving his tongue to your hole to lap up your release. You're panting as he moves back up towards your face, his covered in your release. "But I still think you can be louder."

"You sound like you're all talk," you challenge even though you're still breathless.

He chuckles darkly before getting rid of the rest of his clothes, putting himself right back over you. "Sounds like you're undermining my skills," he jabs back as he lines himself up.

"Sounds like you're overestimating yourself," you counter, but you trail off before you can finish the last word as he pushes himself in, and you both moan at the feeling.

"Shit, I'll never get over how amazing you feel," he breathes once he bottoms out, and you're urging him to move, which he quickly obliges, your mouth falling open at the feeling of being stretched out with every stroke.

He moves himself so that he's on his knees, your hips angled upwards as he thrusts into you way too slowly for your liking. "Come on, Eren," you whine, knowing he can make you feel way better than he is right now. "Fuck me harder," you plead, and he coos at you.

"Aww, but I'm trying to make love to you, princess," he drawls, and you groan in frustration as you try to move, but he holds you down, making sure he's the only one moving.

"I don't want you to make love to me," you whine, desperate to have him fuck you until you see stars.

"But I like seeing you beg for me, seeing you so desperate, it's cute, keep going," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Fuck--" He cuts you off with a sharp thrust, nailing your g-spot with ease.

"Me? Well, you're already doing that, sweetheart." You scrunch your nose at the stupid pet name, and you scoff before you smirk at him.

"As I said, you're all talk," you taunt. "Pretty sure Reiner could make me scream louder than you ever could." The playful demeanor in his face drops and his eyes are going dark, and suddenly he's pulling out of you, and rolling you onto your stomach.

He pulls you up to your knees, and he slams into you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion as your eyes roll back. "You think you're funny, huh?" he spits before pulling you to his chest by your shoulder. "You wanted to get a rise out of me so that I could fuck you like a filthy whore."

You can barely respond, your body feeling like it's being shocked every time he rams that spot, and you jolt when he pushes on your clit. "Already going stupid? I haven't even done anything yet."

He pushes you back down, pushing your back until your chest is flush against his bed. "You're such a needy slut, aren't you?" A smack to your ass, the sting snapping you out of your daze. "Answer me."

"Fuck yes!" You can barely get it out, your knuckles starting to hurt from how hard you're gripping the sheets.

"Who's fucking you this good?" You don't answer quick enough, it's not like you can, but that only makes him fuck you harder. "Who?!"

"You! God, Eren, you," you moan, and you release your grip on the sheets as you feel yourself starting to drool.

"Who owns this fucking cunt? Fuck." His head falls back on his shoulders as you clamp around him, and he pushes on your clit again when you don't respond.

"You, oh fuck, 's all yours." You buck your hips back, meeting his, and he smacks your ass again.

"Come on, baby, you can say my name." He sounds just as wrecked as you, and his name is the only thing you're coherent enough to say, and you know that you're loud and that anyone walking past the door or on the other side of the walls can hear you.

"Shit, your pussy is so," he cuts himself off with a groan, his body curling as he feels his high building up as you suck him back in.

"Eren, I'm--" You try to tell him that you're close, so close, but you can't, tears running down your face from the constant stimulation on that spot inside of you.

He responds with a groan, and you know he's close too, and the next thing you know, you're cumming hard, your body going rigid. Your orgasm triggers his, and he cums with a moan of your name, his climax hitting him so hard, he falls on top of you.

Both of you fall down on the bed, his ragged breathing fanning against your neck, and he rolls the both of you over before rubbing up and down your top half softly. "You okay?" he asks against your neck, and you can feel the smirk on your skin.

You respond with a content whine, and his grip on your waist tightens when you try to move. "Stop moving. I'm trying to cuddle you."

You scoff before chuckling lightly. "Since when you do cuddle?"

"Since now. Now, shut up, I'm trying to go to sleep."

You roll your eyes at the words, but there's no heat behind them, and you feel sleep catching up to you as well.

Eren Jaeger might annoy to no end, but maybe this isn't so bad.

#eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger smut #eren jaeger x you #eren yaeger x you #eren jaeger x black!reader #eren yaeger x black!reader #aot smut #snk smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #🛶.hoarny

211 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Protective Detail (7/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, these two finally getting over themselves and getting down to it

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: We made it, my friends!!! This isn’t the last chapter or anything but...this has been a long time coming lol. Thanks for sticking with me so far! Enjoy some well-deserved smut. Think of it as my holiday season gift to all of you haha xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sillygoose6969 @mydaiilyescape @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @the-radical-venus @gemini0410 @garbinge @slutformayansmc @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @tigers2019

Your brain couldn’t possibly keep up with everything that was happening around you in that moment. Part of you was still trying to process the fact that Nestor had even kissed you back, while another part of you was doing anything in your power to pull him as close to you as humanly possible, and yet another part of you was having a hard time believing that any of it was real.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him close to you. His hands cupped your face, resting just below your jaw. You melted into the heat of his touch, moaning as his fingers traced along your jawline. He took his hands off of you just long enough to yank the blanket off of you. You laughed quietly as you pulled him down so he was lying on the bed with you. You shifted so that you were on top of him straddling him before he pulled your lips back down to his again.

He slid his hands down and underneath the fabric of your shirt. You felt goosebumps break out all over your skin as his fingers crept up your sides. Your hands rested against his chest as you let him press your chest flush against his. You bit down lightly on his bottom lip and the low moan that he let out was something that you wanted burned into your memory forever. His fingertips pressed harder into your sides as he tightened his grip on you and all you could think was that you never wanted him to let you go.

He took his lips off of yours for a moment, smiling as his hands slid down and underneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you waited to see what he was going to do next.

With what seemed like no effort at all, he lifted you off of his chest and laid you on your back on the bed. You gasped, a laugh escaping you as he slid your sweatpants and underwear down off your legs with ease before kissing you again. He quickly pulled his shirt off over his head before cupped your face with one hand as the other trailed lightly down your stomach. His hand came to rest on your thigh and he squeezed it lightly, causing you to moan.

His fingers strayed from your thigh, landing in between your legs. You whined almost involuntarily, and Nestor pulled out of your kiss, looking down at you with a smug grin on his face. You interlocked your fingers behind his neck, pulling him back down towards you to kiss him again.

He paused before his lips met yours, “You sure?”

You hardly got out the word yes before pulling him against you, lips crashing together. His fingers traced lightly between your legs. You shifted your hips, letting out a needy moan as your body begged for more contact. You felt the vibration of his laughter on your skin as his lips moved down to your neck. He slowly slid his fingers into you and you let out a shaky breath, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders.

“Fuck, Nestor,” you moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “don’t stop.”

He bit down lightly on the skin of your neck and it sent a shiver throughout your whole body. It’d been a long time since you had been with anyone like this, but you couldn’t remember the last time you were with someone who you wanted as badly as you wanted Nestor. You wondered if there was ever anyone that actually came close. The feeling of his body pressed against yours wiped all the tension out of your body.

You pushed the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down and you heard him chuckle as he rested his hands over yours to stop you, “Ease up for a second,” he looked down at you, “I don’t have,” he shook his head with a soft laugh, “I didn’t bring condoms.”

You couldn’t stop your laughter, “Didn’t think you were gonna need them?” when he shook his head you smiled, “Your responsibility is very sexy. But I’m on birth control—you’re good to go.”

“Yea?”

You nodded, “Yea.”

He didn’t need any more confirmation than that. He let you continue to push his pants down and you could feel him smile against your neck as he kissed you and slid them off the rest of the way. You instantly looped your legs around him, pulling him as close to you as possible. His arms were braced on either side of your head, and even in the darkness you could see it in his eyes how badly he wanted all of this.

The moan that he let out as he slid into you made your entire body tremble. He was still for a moment and you took the opportunity to pull him back down to you. Your lips caught his as your hands drifted to rest on his shoulders. Your nails dug slightly into his skin as he began to thrust into you, unable to keep your moans quiet.

“Fuck,” his voice was low and raspy, “you feel so fucking good.”

You’d listen to him praise you like that for the rest of your life if you could, “Don’t stop.”

His hand came up and roughly cupped your face as he kissed you hard on the lips. His calloused palm felt rough against your cheek but you still leaned into the sensation regardless. For a moment you felt his tongue run along the inside of your lip and you eagerly opened your mouth to let it meet yours.

Your brain fought to keep up with everything that your body was feeling as his tongue ran along yours as he continued to speed up his pace. You tried to pull him even closer but there was no space left between you. your nails raked down his back and you felt his body shudder at the sensation.

He moved his hand from your jaw and let it slide down your body, finally letting it hook underneath your leg as he slowly pushed it up. The slight shift gave him a better angle and you felt your legs start to shake.

“Nestor,” you panted when you pulled our lips off of his, “I’m gonna cum.”

He fought to keep his rhythm steady as he felt you start to contract around him, “Cum for me,” his fingertips pressed hard into your thigh, “Fuck, Y/N, I want you to come for me.”

The neediness in his voice pushed your over the edge. You bit down onto his shoulder as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. Nestor cursed under his breath as he fucked you, his grip tight on your hips. Your legs were locked tight around him as he approached his own release. You felt his nails dig into you as his pace faltered slightly.

You nipped lightly at his neck your voice quiet as you tried and failed to catch your breath, “You gonna cum for me, Nes?”

“Fuck,” he thrust hard into you, “yes.”

Hardly a moment after the words came off his lips, you felt his body go rigid as he finished inside you with a low moan. The stiffness started to leave his body as he buried his face into your neck. You giggled as his facial hair dragged lightly along the sensitive skin of your throat. He hummed in approval—you felt the vibrations against your neck. You rested your hands on his back, lightly dragging your fingers up and down his shoulder blades. There was a moment when you felt him shift to pull out of you and you hooked your legs behind him, pinning him to you so that he couldn’t. He chuckled into your chest, not bothering to fight you on it.

You gently rubbed circles into the sides of his neck with your thumbs, careful to avoid the burn from the accident a few days before, a smirk on your face, “Well that was fun.”

He laughed, resituating himself so he could look at you. You could tell that he wanted to have something witty to say, but his mind was still reeling. He simply shook his head at you as he allowed your fingers to dance lightly along his shoulders and neck. The gentle side of intimacy was something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he was soaking it up while he still could.

After a few minutes you finally released him from the knot that your legs had formed. He laughed against your chest as he pulled away, resituating himself on the bed. You sat up, swinging your legs off the mattress.

You turned to him after you stood up, “I’m gonna grab some water, want some?”

He nodded, “Yea, please.”

You went to the bathroom then made your way to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator. You made your way back to your bedroom. When you looked inside you smiled at the sight of Nestor pulling his boxers back on, tossing his sweatpants off to the side out of the way.

You offered him a water bottle and he took it gladly. He downed half of it in the first go and you laughed as you sat down on the bed, slowly sipping on yours. He stood there, eyes searching your face for some kind of cue for what he should be doing next.

“I can,” he gestured towards the door, “if you’d rather just—”

You cut him off with a smile, “There’s no point in you not staying in here tonight,” you laughed, “Not like you’re going to go back to your house or something.”

He smiled as he sat down next to you, “Who said it’s a house?”

You gave him a playful shove, “Shut up.”

He laughed before finishing off his water bottle and setting it on your bedside table, “Inside or outside?”

Your whole chest felt warm, “Inside. But you have to be big spoon.”

There was a smile on his face as he shook his head. You could tell that he was enjoying this, but cautiously. Not that you could blame him, and realistically you knew that it wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little more cautious as well. It was difficult to think like that though as he sank down beside you in the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You let out a contented sigh as you rested your hand on top of his. He pulled you flush against his chest as he nuzzled against your neck. You giggled as you let yourself give in to his touch. Never in a million years would you have thought that Nestor was a cuddler.

You woke up the next morning and for a moment you thought that the events of the previous night were just an incredible dream. You felt around the bed and when you found it empty, your heart sank a little inside your chest. You sat up, wiping the sleep from your eyes to get a better look around your room. Every trace of Nestor having been there the night before was gone—the water bottles cleaned up and his clothes taken from the floor. You sighed, running your hands over your face before getting out of bed to see where he was.

You went down the hall and stuck your head into his room, but that was empty too. You made your way to the kitchen and the heaviness in your chest instantly disappeared when you found him at the counter making breakfast.

“Coffee isn’t ready yet,” he didn’t turn to look at you but you could hear the smile in his voice, “Got a late start this morning.”

You chuckled as you sat down at the counter, “Late night last night?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yea, something like that.”

“What’s on the menu, Chef Oceteva?”

He turned to you, and the tiredness in his features was outweighed by the happiness you could feel emanating form him, “You have a waffle maker.”

You nodded with a smile, “Yea. Haven’t used it in years, but yes I have one.”

“It still works,” he stepped to the side so you could get a look at what he was doing.

You nodded in approval but didn’t comment further as he went back to work. There were a million questions bubbling beneath the surface of your mind, but you didn’t want to bombard him with them. You didn’t want to ruin what this could be.

He brought you a cup of coffee once it was ready, and his gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer than it normally would’ve. You could see it on his face that he felt like something had shifted as well, that things were definitely different now. You also assumed that if the conversation was going to happen, that he wasn’t going to be the one to start it.

You took a sip of your coffee and then cleared your throat, “So. Do we need to…are we gonna talk about last night?”

He turned back to you, his eyes searching yours for the right answers, “We probably should, huh?”

You chuckled with a nod, “Yea, probably,” you paused, looking down into your coffee for a moment, “I know that dating would be stupid for a multitude of reasons. But, and I don’t know about you, I haven’t had sex like that in a while.”

His laugh was genuine and it warmed your heart as he nodded, “Yea, me too.”

“And if you think about it,” there was a playful smile on your face, “the most practical way to protect me at night is just to stay in the room with me. There is no better surveillance point than that.”

“You’re all about strategy, huh?” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m just trying to help you do your job as effectively as possible, Nes,” you waited for him to look in your eyes before you let your expression grow a little more serious, “We don’t have to try and make this into anything more than it is. It doesn’t have to be complicated. But we already spend all of our time together…so…why not? If it stops working, then we stop.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“You’re alright with that?”

He nodded with a shrug, “Sure, yea,” a smile crept across his face, “But you’re gonna need to buy a bigger bed if we’re both sleeping in it. You take up the whole thing.”

You laughed, “I do not!”

“You sleep diagonally,” he shook his head as he went back to his breakfast preparations, “How such a small person takes up so much mattress is beyond me.”

You didn’t get into it any farther with him. You sipped on your coffee as he continued to make breakfast for the two of you. Even though you had said that whatever it was going on between you didn’t have to turn into something complicated, you couldn’t deny the feeling in your chest as the two of you shared a quiet morning together in your kitchen. You knew that in a lot of ways, your days with Nestor were numbered, but you had no idea how many you had left. You hoped that maybe keeping that in mind would make it easier to keep yourself somewhat detached going forward.

Once breakfast was done and cleaned up, you set off to get ready for work. It’d been a nice few day off, especially with Nestor around, but you were ready to feel like you had responsibilities again. You were looking at yourself in the mirror when you saw a few dark marks littering the space where your neck met your shoulder. You shook your head as you felt your face get hot. You’d be able to cover them for the most part with the right shirt and a little bit of makeup. But you knew that if Jade caught a glimpse of it she was never going to let you hear the end of it. You could handle it, but you were curious as to what she was going to say to Nestor, if she said anything at all.

“You almost ready?” Nestor poked his head into your room.

You turned to look at him, “I will be once I’m done covering up the hickeys you gave me,” you laughed as you shook your head, “Fucking teenager.”

He laughed, “Sorry.”

The smile on his face said that he wasn’t sorry at all. You shook your head, “I’ll be there in a minute. It’s my turn to drive.”

As you drove to the bar, you thought about the fact that maybe you should’ve let Nestor drive. You had a hard time keeping your eyes on the road—all you wanted to do was look over at him. You wished that you knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. For someone who said that it didn’t have to be complicated, you certainly were complicating it a lot for yourself.

The two of you strode into the bar. Jade instantly perked up at the sight of you, just glad to see that you each still had both arms and both legs. You hardly ever called off, and when you had mentioned to her that you needed a couple days off because of things that happened with Nestor, all she could do was worry until she saw you again.

“Glad to see you’re both still fully intact,” she smiled as she wrapped you in a hug.

You laughed and nodded, “Yea, no missing limbs this time. Just a couple bumps and scrapes.”

“I see that,” she was giving Nestor a once-over, “You need to find safer friends to hang out with.”

He chuckled as he sat down at the bar, “I’ve been trying, just haven’t been successful.”

She saw the glances that the two of you shared, and she knew that at some point during the night she was going to have to pull you aside to get an update on the situation. Something was different, and she was almost positive that she knew what it was, but she wanted to hear it from you. This was the first time that Nestor seemed at all relaxed in her presence, and Jade knew it wasn’t because he had missed being at the bar.

It was a busy first shift back, but you were glad to get right back into the swing of things. You would look over at Nestor every now and then, and the smile that he met you with was genuine for once, not the forced ones he used to give you. You would shake your head slightly before going back to whatever it was that you were doing.

Jade was next to you as you both pulled drinks together, “So,” she didn’t look at you but there was a knowing smile on her face, “how are things going with my favorite couple?”

“What couple?” you tried to play it off.

She turned and gave a pointed look to the dark mark creeping out from beneath the collar of your shirt, “You’re not a good liar, Y/N.”

“I’m not lying,” you laughed, “we’re not a couple. He’s some dude that my dad hired to protect me until things calm down again,” you picked up one glass in each hand, “and if I get laid in the meantime, then so be it,” you laughed as you walked off to deliver your drinks.

Towards the end of your shift, people began to filter out. The bar started to get quieter and quieter as you and Jade began your cleanup routine. The last few people were paying their tabs and getting ready to head out. They gave questioning looked to Nestor, who clearly looked like he had no intention of moving, but no one said anything to him.

Once everyone was gone, Jade looked over to Nestor, “In the future, Nestor,” she kept her expression neutral, “I would appreciate it if you could leave your hickeys in a less visible spot. For professional purposes.”

He choked on the water that he was drinking and you couldn’t help but to laugh. You knew that Jade didn’t care, but you also knew that she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get a reaction out of a man who never really showed an emotion one way or another.

“I, um,” he fumbled as he tried to get the words together, “yes, ma’am.”

You shook your head with a laugh, “Relax, Nestor. She doesn’t really care,” you looked over at her as a smile broke out across her face, “She just likes getting a rise out of people.”

He tried to bite back his smile but failed. He simply shook his head as he went back to whatever he had been looking at on his phone before that. You and Jade exchanged knowing looks and quiet laughs together as you finished up the rest of your nightly routine together.

Jade walked out of the bar with the two of you at the end of the night. She gave you a hug before walking to her car. She spoke softly, keeping an eye on Nestor who was waiting against your car, “I expect updates in the future.”

You laughed, rolling your ryes, “If there’s anything to know, I’ll tell you.”

“That’s all I ask. Get home safe,” she waved to Nestor before getting into her own car and pulling away.

“Ready to go home?” you asked as you unlocked the car.

He nodded as he sat down in the passenger seat. You could see it on his face that he wanted to ask you something, but he stopped himself. You didn’t push it, knowing that when it was time, he’d say something.

As you pulled the car out onto the road, you felt his hand come to rest on your thigh just above your knee. You smiled to yourself but made the conscious effort not to look over at him. You just wanted to enjoy it while you had it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 7 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #nestor oceteva smut

225 notes · View notes

onechicagorpf · 4 years

Text

Two Can Play This Game

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med ED doctor)

Summary: Y/N and Jay have a very undefined relationship, which causes problems when Jay decides to meet with Ally, his ex, for drinks. Y/N’s not one to take things lightly, so when Jay dismisses her jealousy she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine...

Warnings: Loud yelling-at-each-other arguments, which can be triggering, so please watch out! Swearing + dubious medical content, as per usual lol

A/N: I just needed a break before I got started on Not A Stranger Part 4, so this happened! Enjoy! As per usual, please leave comments if you really liked it - they mean a lot!

The sun is bearing down on you hard, and you feel a trickle of sweat go down the back of your neck.

“Need a drink?” It’s Ethan, tossing a cool bottle of water at you. Grinning, you catch it and quickly begin to empty it into your mouth.

Ethan’s frowning, looking up into the sky. “Some days, I just don’t get Chicago. It’s either freezing because it’s the polar vortex, or it’s boiling hot because - well. Whatever. I hate this.” Crushing the plastic bottle, you toss it into a nearby trashcan. “We’ve cleared everyone?” You ask, gesturing to the relatively less frantic movement of firefighters, cops, and doctors on the road. Ethan nods.

A gas explosion had gone off in an apartment, and it was bad enough that CFD paged ED doctors to come down and treat some patients on the scene. Natalie, Connor, Lanik and the student doctors opted to stay behind and hold down the fort, so you were dispatched out with Will and Ethan. For the last hour and a half, you’d been busy running triage and treating whatever burns, smoke inhalations, and other trauma injuries came your way. Luckily, the fire had been contained to just one floor, so there were only a few really awful burns. But of course, this is Chicago so there’s only so much luck going around.

The building was an old one, and that coupled with several structural defects meant that the south face of the building had partially collapsed. So in essence, for every burn victim CFD pulled out, there were about three penetrating or blunt traumas from falling concrete.

“Yeah, but I’d rather treat trauma from a falling object than burns any day,” Ethan comments and you raise your eyebrows. “See, if you’d told me that at the start I would’ve just taken all the burn vics and tossed the rest to you.” Ethan throws his hands up, as you start laughing. “Okay hold on, I didn’t say I wanted to take them all – ” “You guys good?” Cruz swings by, soot and sweat on his face. He takes off his helmet with a sigh, and his shoulders sag like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Should be asking you that. Are you guys done with search and rescue?” You ask, kicking a nearby plastic chair towards him. Cruz thanks you and starts taking off his equipment. “Yeah, we’ve cleared building. CPD’s in there now.” You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of the police - well specifically at the thought of one detective who you know is on scene…

Except you’re supposed to be mad at him now, so stop thinking about him!

“So they think this is arson? And that it’s related to some case Intelligence is working?” Ethan asks, and Cruz nods, “Seems that way, yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence, and your eyes scan the area, watching patrol officers lift up police tape for the last few victims being wheeled into ambulances. You get up, ready to check with Will if he’s ready to go back when Cruz kicks at your feet, a cheeky smile on his face.

“So what’s this I hear about you and the younger Halstead being on the outs?” His eyes light up, and you groan, swearing. Ethan laughs, and you shoot him a glare, to which he simply shrugs like as if he’s got nothing to do with this.

You turn back to Cruz, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who told you and what do you know?”

“All I know is that you and Jay were both at Molly’s last night and you didn’t even look at each other.” Cruz pouts, acting all sad. “What happened to my favourite detective-doctor duo, huh? Why the trouble in paradise?”

You roll your eyes. “We’re fine. We just…were hanging out with different groups of people last night.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean against the nearby table of supplies, trying to look all nonchalant. Ethan raises his eyebrows, “So you’re definitely not pissed about the blonde chick Jay had drinks with 2 nights ago?”

“Okay, fuck you - ” You exclaim, unable to hide your rage at that memory. Which Ethan and Cruz find hilarious, apparently, because they’re throwing their heads back and laughing.

“You guys suck,” You punch Cruz in the arm as you walk away; the two men calling you back while still laughing. You flip your middle finger at them, which elicits an outraged “Hey!” Shaking your head, you chuckle as well.

The Med ED/Firehouse 51/Intelligence circle is a tight one and you love it - love having friends who are more or less in the same line of work, friends you can lean on, friends who don’t get pissed when you have to cancel on them last minute. But the flip side of that is the fact that nothing stays secret. Gossip is most the valuable currency in that social circle, so if Cruz and Ethan know, then it’s not a bad guess to think everyone knows.

“Dude, c’mon. You’re an adult. Just take the damn injection!” Severide’s voice catches your attention, and you turn. He’s standing at the back of an ambulance, with Will and Jay by his side (your heart, again, skips a beat, which only pisses you off because ugh, you’re so bad at being angry at him!). The three of them are crowded around a fairly attractive, topless blonde man sitting in the back of the ambulance, shaking his head vehemently. You start making your way towards them, listening in.

“Hell nah – I’m not letting you stab me with that shit – ” The guy’s eyes are wide, and he’s leaning back from Will.

“It’s just a tetanus shot,” Will explains, exasperated. He points to the guy’s side, where a bandaged piece of gauze has been stuck to his skin. “The rusty stairwell scratched you, so you need to get a tetanus shot.”

“I said, I’m not fucking doing needles!” Hot blond guy yells and Jay runs his hand down his face. “Okay dude seriously, I can’t question you about the fire unless you get treated first, so please just take the damn shot so we can all move on with our lives – ”

“What’s going on?” You interject, hands on your hips. All four men turn, and you’re very careful to not make eye contact with Jay. Will and Kelly both immediately shoot furtive glances at Jay once they see you, so obviously they also know that you and Jay are having an argument. Great!

I mean, it has to have been Jay’s fault, because you didn’t tell anyone…well except for Natalie…who might have told Maggie…who might have told April…who might have told Kelly - shit. Well, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing is only happening because of Jay. Technically the two of you weren’t really dating – it was just a couple of hookups, but then you also started hanging out a lot together, and it got to the point where everyone knew that the two of you were basically kinda sorta an item.

You liked that you guys never had to sit down and talk about what exactly the two of you were – all that meant was that you guys were strong and confident and that you didn’t need to have a discussion about where you stood!

Or at least that’s what it meant to you. Jay apparently thought it meant it was completely okay to go have drinks with an on and off ex from high school, who he’d admitted to you he’d hooked up with on multiple occasions in the past. When you (rightfully!) got pissed at him, he just frowned and said “What’s the problem? We’re not together.”

To which you responded very maturely.

So maturely!

In a very, very responsible way…

Okay, fine, maybe you screamed “FUCK YOU!” at the top of your lungs and left his apartment, slamming his front door loud enough to wake up all the neighbours.

You get that you’re maybe being a little over-dramatic, and maybe it is on you because you just assumed you didn’t have to have that conversation with Jay. But it hurt you immensely how he thought it was okay to go have drinks with an ex (an ex!) without thinking about you at all.

“Blake here tripped on his way down the fire escape and got scraped by a rusty stairwell, but he’s refusing his tetanus shot.” Will explains, snapping you out of your reverie.

You turn to the guy just in time to catch him giving you a very slow once over, smirking.

Okay…

“How come a big strong guy like you is scared of needles, hmm?” You tilt your head, putting on your best flirty voice. It’s just a thing that tends to work with unruly male patients, you’ve learned over the years.

And yeah, maybe it can be a side benefit that Jay’s going to be an audience to you flirting with someone else…serves him right!

“I’m uh, I’m not actually scared of needles. Just didn’t trust that guy – ” He nods towards Will, who throws his hands in the air, “ – to do a good job you know? Take a delicate hand for these things. Speaking of which…you look like you’re pretty good with your hands,” Blake licks his lips, flirting with you blatantly. You have to press your lips against each other to not burst out laughing.

“Dude…” Jay threatens in a deep, dark voice, but stops when you turn around and grab the tetanus shot pack out of Will’s hands. You step towards Blake, who’s looking up at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts for you. Wiping his shoulder down with an alcohol swab, you find a good spot.

“I’m pretty good with my hands too, by the way,” Blake supplies, winking and you nod. “I’ll bet,” You reply, as someone behind you scoffs. From the corner of your eye, you can see Kelly turn away, trying not to laugh.

You’re much closer to Blake than you really need to be, not that he minds – in fact you’re pretty sure he’s having a great time checking you out up close. He curses under his breath when you inject him, but quickly recovers. You rub on the jab site once done, and trash the used pack. “Good to go,” You shoot Blake a smile. “Oh, one more thing!”

You turn, looking at a very frowny, jaws tight, arms-crossed-over-his-chest Jay Halstead. “Let me borrow that,” You reach forward and take his notepad and pen from him, before scribbling down your number on the top most sheet. Ripping it off, you press it against Blake’s chest, winking. Blake’s hands come up to take the piece of paper, grinning, briefly brushing your fingers as you pull away. Jay’s jaw is on the floor when you return his notepad and pen to him, and you can see Will just shake his head at you, amusement all over his face.

“Alright, let’s go!” You say to Will, and the two of you plus Kelly leave Jay behind with Blake.

“Jay’s going to murder that guy, you know right?” Kelly asks, once you’re out out earshot from Jay. “Like, he’s going down for a homicide. You just got an innocent man killed.” You chuckle and Will lets out a low whistle.

“I’m not gonna say he didn’t have that coming, but damn that was harsh.” The older Halstead says, still laughing.

Shrugging your shoulders, you act innocent. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about – I was just making friends!”

Will and Kelly both look at each other before looking back at you.

“Oh, yeah, of course – ”

“Obviously, what else could that have been – ”

You punch them both in the shoulder at their faux-agreement, the three of you laughing. Ethan comes over, saying there’s an ambulance ready to take them back to Med. You and Will say your goodbyes to Kelly, and take your leave.

***

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. Hip-checking your door close behind you, you start undoing your scarf and carelessly toss it onto your coffee table, before collapsing onto your couch. Your hand roams the crevices of your couch, finding the plastic remote and turning on your TV. Rubbing your eyes while yawning, your TV comes alive to the news of the day. As if on cue, the screen is filled with videos of the building from earlier this morning.

“…while the gas explosion was first assumed to be an accident, it was later proven by CPD Intelligence that it was started by Derrick Henderson, a 35 year-old construction worker from Englewood, who…”

There’s a knock on your door, three loud raps. You blink, confused, and there’s another three. Frowning, you sit up, and you hear: “Y/N, I know you’re in there, c’mon just…just let me in, please,” Jay’s voice is muffled from the other side of your front door, but you know it’s him. Groaning, you get up and make your way over, unlatching your door.

“What do you want.” You intone, seeing him standing there in your threshold. He grabs the door with his hand, like as if he’s afraid you’re gonna shut the door in his face.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Jay starts and you hum, agreeing. “And then I think you owe me an apology,” He finishes, and your mouth falls open.

“What the fuck did I do!” You yell, shoving against his chest. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t even budge - which is kinda hot, actually, wait, dammit - focus!

Jay’s eyes go wide, like he can’t believe you’re claiming innocence. “Are you kiddi – that whole thing! With – with Blake, the fucking moron, who was basically stripping you with his eyes! That was so unnecessary – ”

“You literally went on a date with your ex and you’re telling ME what’s unnecessary?! You – ”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Your neighbour from down the hall yells, and both you and Jay shut up. “NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS YOU FUCKING MORONS!”

Jay scoffs, and turns to step down your hallway to your neighbour’s apartment when you reach out, grab him by his tee and unceremoniously drag him into your apartment. Slamming the door behind you, you turn to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’re the asshole who told me that we weren’t really together so it didn’t matter if you went out with your ex-girlfriend! So why the fuck is it a problem if I give my number out, huh?!”

Jay throws his hands in the air. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t fucking – I wasn’t thinking when I did what I did and I can see know that it probably really hurt you, but I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you; I just fucked up. But you – you went out of your WAY to piss me off – ”

“ALL I DID WAS GIVE OUT MY NUMBER – ”

“IN FRONT OF ME! TO SOME OTHER GUY! WHEN I – ”

The two of you jump when there’s loud banging on your door. “I’M CALLING THE FUCKING POLICE ON YOU TWO!”

Jay wrenches your door open and you see your pissed off neighbour on the other side. “I’M HER BOYFRIEND AND I’M THE FUCKING POLICE, SO YOU’D JUST BE CALLING ME!” He slams the door shut and turns, running his hands over his face.

“Okay, okay, we gotta stop yelling. Anyway, my point is – what?” Jay asks, as you stand unmoving, mouth slightly open.

When you eventually find your voice, all you can say is - “You’re my boyfriend?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you – ” Jay smiles, reaching for you but you just step back.

“That you just decided you’re my boyfriend? Because this relationship is an autocracy?” You glare at him, getting angry again. The nerve of this guy!

Not that your heart didn’t practically soar when he called himself your boyfriend, but…

“No, no, we’re very democratic, and we should talk about this more, once we’re done with all the yelling.” Jay announces, and then he smiles. “I’m just saying I love you.”

“See, no, this is exactly the kind of issue with you - you just make decisions and act like you’re right and you can do whatever you want and you can go out with your ex if you want and that’s all supposed to be fine but the moment I – as a joke – hand out my number to some guy to give you a taste of your medicine, I’m the one who crossed a line and – wait, what?” You cut yourself off, confused if you’re hearing things.

“There we go,” Jay laughs, a fond smile etched on his face, as you finally process what he said.

“Did you just…did you just say you love me?” You ask, your voice soft as you step up to him.

“Yeah,” Jay’s grinning now, right in front of you. “I’m sorry it took me a while to realise it, but…I love you.”

You just blink at him for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to tear up. And then you punch him in the chest as hard as you can.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Jay asks, eyes wide as he frowns, wholly confused.

“You fucking – fuck!” You whisper angrily, not wanting to piss off your neighbour again. “You had to fucking go out on a date with your ex-girlfriend and piss me the fuck off and make me make you jealous before you realised that you love me?!”

“I’ve been hit in the head multiple times…?” Jay shrugs apologetically.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, before cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pulling him down to press your lips together.

You can feel Jay smile through the kiss, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, parting your lips. You’ve kissed each other many times before, in many ways – good morning pecks, in-the-middle-of-sex makeouts, teasing neck kisses – but something about this kiss is entirely new. It’s just…warm, and loving, and delicate and beautiful and just – just perfect.

When you pull apart, the two of you rest your foreheads against each other, smiling like dumb idiots.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #onechicago imagine #onechicago #cpd imagine #ethan choi #will halstead #kelly severide

2K notes · View notes

harpyloon · 3 years

Text

little red

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley (BUT this is more of a Ginny Weasley and Sirius Black friendship HC if you will)

Summary: “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. - Chapter 33: Fight and Flight (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)

Warnings: Small battle scene, minor mentions of blood and injuries, small mentions of death... I think that’s about it? Mostly fluff and humor.

Word Count: 6.8k+ (oops)

A/N: hello! This is my first time posting an HP fic here so I hope you'll be kind! This idea has been an itch in my brain I've been wanting to scratch ever since I re-read OOTP. It's mostly canon apart from the ending (y'all know what ending I'm talking about lol). Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Order of the Phoenix missing moments

Read on AO3

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

Sirius always knew. He thinks he's known from the very beginning, but even more so when he chanced upon her creeping down the rickety stairs of Grimmauld Place—clutching a hand full of round mud brown pellets that looked all too familiar—with a mischievous glint in her eyes and lips pursed in strict concentration. With as little noise as she could possibly yield, she made it to the bottom of the second landing, eyeing the offending door with the equally offending Silencing Charms casted to muffle whatever it was the "children" were not allowed to hear.

Leaning over the bannister to get a good view of her target, her fiery red mane tumbled over one shoulder like a curtain, concealing half of her determined face from Sirius who was gazing up at the show with amusement; he was suddenly in no hurry to get back to the meeting that was getting fouler by the day. Although the sounds were muffled, he knew exactly how riled up everyone was behind that door, the very reason he had to step out in the first place.

Fighting in the first war, Sirius knew that every moment for members of the Order of the Phoenix was as good as their last. "We might as well seal our deaths," James's voice echoed through his thoughts at the distant memory of him and his friends officially joining the Order that one bleak winter evening. He could still feel Lily's grip on both his and James's hands as she sat between the two, not once glancing at anyone as Dumbledore spelled out every possible danger being a member of the Order would entail.

"Might as well," Lily breathed out and looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye, "Count us in."

Dumbledore didn't need to look at the rest of the gentleman for approval. Lily might have been James's woman, but whatever Lily Evans said the Marauders always followed.

Almost always.

"Ah, crud."

Sirius is yanked back into the dreary hall of Grimmauld Place, just as a putrid ball of manure bounces off the charmed kitchen door and zooms past the cobwebby chandelier, straight for his startled face. Times like these made Sirius truly grateful for his canine instincts, as he stepped aside just in the nick of time.

The mud brown ball splattered onto a worn-out tapestry, right beside the large troll’s leg umbrella stand.

"Oops."

He glanced back up at Ginny Weasley who was grinning sheepishly down at him from the second landing, "Sorry, Sirius."

"Good aim," said Sirius, winking up at her, "Although I believe your mother has the door Imperturbed, little red."

Ginny scrunched up her nose and it reminded him too much of another red head he knew, "That's no good. Well if Dungbombs won’t work then it's a long shot for Fred and George's Extendable Ears."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "Extendable Ears?"

Ginny waved a hand, "Eavesdropping contraptions they made up over the summer—" she stopped short and eyed Sirius warily, "Will you tell? Because if mum finds out, you didn't hear it from me."

Sirius grinned. As if anyone would expect Sirius Black, 1/4 of the Marauders, to ever tattle about anyone's mischief. "Bound me by oath, I shall tell no living soul."

Ginny sighed in relief and tucked her hair behind her ears, leaning over the bannister even further. If Sirius didn't catch the tips of her shoes hooked through the railing, he'd be afraid she'd fall flat on her face.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired curiously, "That door may be Imperturbed but I'm almost positive I heard yelling."

"Precisely why I'm not in there," he sighed and glanced at the kitchen door. He didn't feel like going back inside the chaos at all.

"Really?" Ginny looked even more interested than she was a minute ago. "Don't tell me it's boring?"

Sirius nearly scoffed, "No, little red. Quite the contrary. But being in a room discussing plans for a war you cannot participate in can get quite stale."

He grimaced at his own tone. Sirius wanted to stop feeling sorry for himself, truly and largely through with all the pitiful stares Remus kept sending his way (although discreet) every time Dumbledore so much as shrugged off his requests at lending a hand (or paw) to anything the Order might need. He knew he was being overbearing, which was the last thing he wanted to make anybody feel with his presence. Although being stuck in his wicked mother's house filled with nothing but forbidding memories did no good to his sanity or his morals. He glanced back up at Ginny who was chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

"Anyway, little red, up you go before your mother finds ou—"

"Wanna play Quidditch?"

Sirius blinked.

"Quidditch?"

"I need to practice."

"Trying out for the team are you?" he asked.

Ginny shrugged, "I think Ron wants to have a go, but he's always been Keeper. Just staying on my toes in case Angelina needs a new Chaser this year."

"Chaser, eh?" said Sirius smiling. "Was Keeper myself back in the old days. James, however, was—"

"Chaser, I know. I also knew you were Keeper," said Ginny impatiently. "So do you want to play?"

Sirius peered curiously up at her once again. He wasn't sure even his own godson knew of his Quidditch history. "How did you know I was Keeper?"

Now Ginny had the nerve to look shameful.

"I've been walking past the Trophy room on the third floor to all my classes since first year," she blushed, "Charms was always fun. Professor Flitwick never really minded if I took too long in the loo."

Her embarrassment ebbed when she saw Sirius's proud grin.

"Anyway, all the Gryffindor teams over the years are listed on the Quidditch board," she said.

"And you have them memorized?"

She ignored him. "So? Will you help me practice? Or were you no good?"

Her eyes held a glint of a challenge and was filled with outpouring mischief Sirius hadn't felt in years.

Dreadful meeting forgotten, he asked, "And where do you propose we are to practice? I've played quite a few years to know we need more than a grimy hallway to fly, little red."

Ginny's eyes were filled with mirth, "I know just the place."

----—-----

Ginny Weasley was a fantastic flyer. Her small but built frame made her agile and quick enough to score a couple (more than a couple) past Sirius, who, admittedly, was rusty on a broom, but could neither deny the fact that the girl was akin to a zapping ball of flame, whizzing past him zealously.

The small alcove behind Grimmauld Place (that Sirius previously remembered to be a dump for old furniture the Black family disposed of ) was cleared and mowed into a backyard of sorts; although the grass was a dying shade of brown, weeds scattered the soil, and the lone shrub by the fence seemed to be in its last breath.

"Mum had Bill and I clear it out just in case the kitchen got too full," explained Ginny. "But nobody's used it yet, and we've still got room. Mad Eye had the surroundings Disillusioned so we can fly as high as the attic."

Sirius spent the next couple of weeks training with Ginny on a Comet Two Sixty they borrowed from Tonks. It was the highlight of his days, superbly scheduled right after Order meetings. An angry Sirius coming out of the kitchens to practice was something Ginny looked forward to (and often hoped, although she'd never admit), only because he wouldn't have the mind to hold out on blocking her Quaffles— almost saving every attempt she had at a perfect goal. There were days when the twins and Ron would come out for a match, three-on-two, and Sirius would give Ron tips on how to Keep.

“You’re fast,” he told Ginny at one point, trying to catch his breath after her third goal of the day; the Quaffle zoomed behind his broom and into the makeshift goal post after her clever diversion of swerving around his front. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say Duh. He rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever considered Seeking?” he inquired.

“Seeking?” she frowned. “Nope. Never. Besides, that position’s not up in the air anytime soon anyway.”

The perpetual loneliness was in no hurry to crawl back into Sirius's mind. Out of all the members of the Order (children included), it was Ginny Weasley (apart from his godson) who made him feel the most welcomed into the world once again; treated humanely, and not some fugitive on the run. She even managed to find the time to occasionally rally him with a game of Exploding Snap.

One particular night that summer, Molly walked in the living room carrying a tray of sandwiches which she set down beside the two.

"Would you know where the extra sheets are, Sirius?" asked Molly, "I need to prepare Harry's bed for tomorrow."

Sirius doesn't miss the way Ginny paused the slightest, then carried on with playing a card down. He swiftly taps the top card with his wand, his opponent only seconds behind. He grins at her cheekily. She missed.

"That point was mine thank you— Ah yes, Molly, of course. I'll have Kreacher bring the sheets up to Ron and Harry's room."

"Harry's arriving, mum?" asked Ginny behind her cards, seeming as though she was deciding which one to play next.

But Sirius could register her unfocused eyes.

"Mad Eye and the rest are leaving at dusk tomorrow. You best tell Hermione and Ron as well. Like twitching worms those two are, can't stop asking when Harry'll be arriving," Molly sighs wistfully, "My poor boy."

Although he hadn't been in the best moods with Molly these days, Sirius couldn't help but grasp her hand to give it a light squeeze.

"No need to worry, Molly. You know Mad Eye. He'll be very thorough."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," said Molly, squeezing Sirius's hand back and reached out to rake her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Not tired yet, Ginerva? You spent the whole afternoon flying," she looked back at Sirius reproachingly.

He merely shrugged with a small smile.

"I'll sleep when I beat him," said Ginny, finally looking up from her cards.

"Fat chance, Weasley," said Sirius.

Molly sighed tiredly. "Oh why do I even bother," she grumbled as she gathered the empty mugs on the coffee table and walked back into the kitchen.

"Love you, mum!" Ginny yelled after her mother as she grabbed a sandwich on the tray and started nibbling.

"You haven't drawn," she said with a frown.

Looking from the cards piled on the floor and back to the ones she held, "It's your turn. Go draw."

But Sirius didn't draw.

He gazed at his cards instead, as if concentrating hard.

"So," he spoke casually, "my godson will finally be gracing us with his presence. About time."

Ginny didn't answer.

He looked up from his cards to see her shuffling with her own, mumbling to herself.

"I suppose you two are friends?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh yeah— er — well, sort of..." she trailed off, clearly having no intention to confirm nor deny.

Sirius waited two beats before realizing she wasn't going to elaborate, "Sort of?" He never really saw much of Ginny around the trio while he tailed them restlessly in dog form through Harry's third year.

"Aren't you going to draw?" she snapped irritably, making a show of how annoyed she was that he was interrupting their game.

"Are you?" he spoke slowly, "Friends with my godson?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."

"But you haven't answered."

"I have! I said yes!"

"Actually, you said 'sort of'."

"Well, I meant 'yes'!" Ginny huffed indignantly, her ears were turning pink. "Are we still playing or not?"

"Fred said you never talked around him," he said casually.

At this remark, blood swiftly rushed to her cheeks and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he now?"

Sirius no longer bothered to hide his grin.

"George said you fancy him even."

Ginny was so red, her freckles were more prominent than ever before. She seemed to be debating whether or not to abandon their game and flee to the safety of her room, or abandon their game to run off and hex her tattle tale twin brothers.

"For your information," she finally spoke, swallowing a lump in her throat before proceeding, "I used to fancy him a little bit. Not anymore, not for a very long time now actually."

“Oh?”

“Over him. Done. Moved on.”

A pair of cards exploded between them, emitting red and orange sparks.

“You’ve done it now,” groaned Ginny. She glanced up at Sirius whom she saw was smiling knowingly at her, his cards abandoned.

“You know what?” she said, “I’m going to bed. Good night, Sirius.”

“Oh come on,” he laughed as she gathered the cards and neatly put them away in a box, “Is Harry that bad? Can’t be as bad as James can he? That git never had the balls to man up to Lily until our 7th yea—"

“I’m seeing someone,” Ginny announced suddenly, which shut Sirius up quickly.

“Seeing someone?” he blinked up at her as she stood from the carpeted floor where they sat and began to gather the cushions around her.

“Yes. Michael Corner. He’s in Ron and Harry’s year, but in Ravenclaw. He's cute. We met at the Yule Ball and been writing at the start summer,” she had a small smile as she mentioned their exchange of letters, as if she had a nice little secret tucked inside her pocket.

Sirius’s brain, however, seemed to have stopped working.

Michael Corner?

His godson was losing a battle to a boy who did his homework? And who maybe even enjoyed it?

"Although I haven't heard from him since we moved here. Can't owl to him now either," she said with a frown, as if she didn't like the thought. "Maybe I should ask Dad to check if I've got post at the Burrow..."

Sirius's head continued to spin at the outrageous thought, but he looked at Ginny calmly.

“Yule Ball, eh? A dancing chap then,” he swallowed the profanities doing somersaults in his brain. “So, a Ravenclaw...”

Ginny eyed him warily, “That’s right.”

He forced an excited grin, “Splendid! Does he play Quidditch? Bet we can invite him over sometime.”

Impossible, Sirius thought. First of all, he was still a fugitive. He reckoned Michael Corner wouldn’t want to be tossing Quaffles with a man who escaped Azkaban; and second, wanted or not, he didn't think he’d ever let Harry get away with letting a girl like Ginny escape from his fingers. He didn’t let James cower away, he sure won’t let Harry either.

He heard her sigh and focused on keeping his face devoid of any inner turmoil.

“He doesn’t play Quidditch," said Ginny.

DOESN’T PLAY QUIDDI—

“Doesn’t play Quidditch?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone neutral. “Interesting.”

What’s she going to do with a bloke who doesn’t play bloody Quidditc—

“So what does he do?” he clears his throat, “in his spare time? Any hobbies?” He seriously should consider an acting career once his name got cleared.

Wrapping the quilt she was sitting on around her shoulders and balancing the tray of sandwiches her mother left on her hip, Ginny pursed her lips at Sirius and huffed, “Nothing that would concern you, Mr. Sirius Black. After all, what other hobbies did you have back in the old days? Other than stirring up trouble?”

She gathered the trail of her quilt with her spare hand and started walking towards the stairs, up to the bedrooms.

“Oh, come on, little red!” said Sirius exasperatedly, “What did I say? Tell me more about Michael Corner! What does he do? What sort of lot does he hang out with?”

He blanched at a sudden thought, gaping at her retreating back in horror.

“Michael Corner doesn’t hang out with Madam Pince does he?”

Ginny trudges up the stairs and doesn’t look back, but her steps progressed louder and heavier.

“If you stop saying his name like that, maybe I’ll think about answering your questions!” she growled and was out of sight.

----—----

Dear Padfoot,

You were right! I did get Seeker! But only because Harry received a lifetime Quidditch ban from Umbridge. I’m sure you’ve heard. That old hag. Fred and George got banned too. I wasn’t supposed to tryout till next year, but Angelina was desperate. You should’ve seen her face. Nearly close to tears every time I see her at breakfast.

I’m sorry you can’t floo anymore. I kept everyone out of the common room the last time. Pavarti left her Herbology homework by the fire but I convinced her to pick it up in the morning instead. I also told the Creeveys that the house elves were cleaning out the common room that night. Nobody wanted to bother them and welcome a bad breakfast. I hope you got to talk to Harry enough. If that old toad didn’t barge in, I’m sure he would’ve told you more about the D.A.

He’s a really good teacher Harry. REALLY good. He reminds me a lot of Remus, the way he teaches. Did you know he can produce a corporeal Patronus? I’ve known of course, from Ron, but seeing it up close was bloody brilliant. You’d be proud. Especially since his Patronus is a stag. Didn’t you say his dad was Prongs?

He’s also seeing this girl, Cho Chang. She’s nice. Very pretty. A Ravenclaw. She plays Quidditch as well. I guess we both have a thing for Ravenclaws? She always cries though, I’ve noticed. It must be hard for her, dealing with Cedric’s death. They were a thing before he died you see. I hope she doesn’t make Harry too sad at least. He’s been looking a lot gloomy these days. Always BROODING. And don’t get me started on his temper.

Anyway, this will likely be my last letter before Christmas. They don’t bother monitoring my owls as much as they do Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s, but it’d be best if you didn’t write back till after the holidays. Hopefully I see you for Christmas. I’ve already got you a present.

Don’t go sulking around too much!

With love,

Ginny

----—----

Never in her life has Ginny ever seen Harry Potter as broken and desolate as he was now, right before her eyes. That is to say she's seen quite a bit of his dismal days. But it was nothing like this. Although, of course, she knew she couldn't feel the extent of his pain, but pain she still felt; the hollow ache in her chest reverberated, first through her arms, paving way for gooseflesh to rise up to the very tips of her fingers, then down her legs and she felt her knees wobble desperately, as if they were telling her, We can carry you no longer.

With her sprained ankle and failing knees, she gripped the bed post nearest her so tightly it croaked beneath her weight. She watched as Harry did his very best to stand back helplessly and watch the healers fuss around Sirius's frail and pale body, casting stabilizing charms and fixing various droughts by the bed where he lay in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

It almost hit him.

Ginny whimpered at the memory of waking to Sirius's barking voice echo through the Department of Mysteries. Despite her busted ankle, she dragged herself up and registered Luna and Hermione passed out cold, while Ron struggled through the binding tentacles of thought wheeling out of the brain that held him captive. Neville and Harry were nowhere to be found.

"RON!" she yelled at her brother, who seemed to have finally snapped out of the laughing jinx he was in. "Hold still—"

"I HATE BRAINS!" screamed Ron. He managed to have pierced a tentacle with the tip of his wand and the bindings around his torso pulsated, as if the brain yelped in pain although no sound came out.

"GINNY, NOW!"

"Diffindo!"

The brain's tentacles weren't severed as Ginny would have hoped, but it weakened its hold on Ron most definitely that he succeeded in wiggling his way out.

"I've got it," mumbled Ron when she bent down to reach for him, "It might get you too." He finally kicked the tentacles of thought away and it trembled furiously on the cold floor, flashes of memories fluctuating.

Both siblings were panting heavily as they paused to catch their breaths. Ron's right knee jutted out in an odd angle that didn't look particularly natural. He shifted his weight to his left backside, scanned the room, and spotted Hermione lying across the room from him with her eyes wide open. His face paled.

"Hermione," whispered Ron weakly.

Ginny glanced over at her and Luna's lying forms.

"They're stunned," she said. "We need to get them back to school. We all need to get out of here."

She wouldn't have known if Ron heard her for his eyes were fixed solely on Hermione, but he gave a quick nod, "Yeah we—," his eyes suddenly darted around, searching, then he looked back at Ginny in panic.

"Where's Neville?" his eyes were filled with fear, "Where's Harry?"

A deep booming yell echoed from the open door, and Ron's face first scrunched up in confusion, then suddenly turned to a hopeful expression.

"Is that— is that Moody I hear?" his voice was almost weepy.

"Yes," said Ginny, struggling back up on one foot. "And I think I heard Sirius too."

She tried helping her brother up to his feet but to no avail. His right knee was most definitely not okay.

"I'm going to get help," she said. "Stay here and look after the others."

Ron looked like he was about to protest but swallowed the argument quickly. "Wait—" he quickly glances at Hermione then at Ginny's angry and swollen ankle, "you can barely walk."

"Compared to you I can," she said and winced as she shifted her weight. "Look after the others."

Ron swallowed painfully but nodded, his eyes finding Hermione again. No one would dare doubt Ginny's hexing skills, but as the older brother it was instinct to worry.

"Hurry back, yeah?"

Ginny stared at her youngest brother and felt her heart swell almost as much as her throbbing ankle (the pain intensifying to the point of numbness, which made it easier to ignore). People always thought it was Bill that she favored the most among her brothers, them being particularly close as the eldest and youngest. But while their closeness was unquestionable, there was one brother whom Ginny revered the most. Sheer—although closeted—admiration.

Ron always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to clam it up—which Ginny admired profusely, if not envied at times. While he regularly complained under his breath about the state of poverty their family lived in, his face often falling behind his mother's back whenever he found out he'd be inheriting something of his older brothers' (like Charlie's old set of school robes instead of getting fresh, personally tailored ones from Madam Malkin's)—it was exactly this that made him all the more benign.

It was Ron who always lent Ginny his hand-me-down broom after an afternoon of spitting out tantrums all over the Burrow when her other brothers refused to let her play along, Ron who merely huffs in annoyance every time she barges in his room, plopping down on his bed as she talked his ear off—though he let her anyway; Ron who was just so selfless despite all his lamenting, never thinking twice about giving.

You're my hero, Ron, Ginny thought to herself as she gave her brother a nimble nod.

"Wand out," she cautioned him, and he snorted.

"I'll give those Death Eaters a Bat-Bogey hex in your honor."

Ginny had to swallow back her tears. She didn't know why she was getting emotional at this point. Perhaps it was the thought of death not very far from where they stood, as Death Eaters swarmed the Ministry. She pointed her wand to his knees to distract him from the glassy sheen forming in her eyes.

"Ferula."

Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. He winced as they secured themselves and then he heaved a grateful sigh. "Thanks. Hold out yours."

Ankle patched and throbbing dulled to a minimum, Ginny limped out of the Brain Room, wand out and ready.

If Sirius and the others are here, we'll be alright, she thought, fighting down the growing panic that if the Death Eaters didn't get to him first, the Ministry would capture him instantly. He was, after all, still a mass murderer on the lose. She refused to think about Harry, who was god-knows-where, probably being impulsive and angry and careless with a helpless Neville on his toes.

Ginny evaded all abhorrent thoughts and swiped traitorous tears from her cheeks angrily.

He has to be okay. They all have to be.

She headed straight to the only other door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come. Gripping the frame tightly as she fought through the pain on her ankle, she saw—to her horror—Mad-Eye lying on his side in the middle of the room by the dais, bleeding from the head, his magic eye spinning across the floor near a paralyzed Dolohov; Kingsley was swaying across her field of vision, battling with a now mask-less Rookwood, and she saw Remus, who had successfully disarmed Lucius Malfoy.

Her eyes scanned the room in panic, but was suddenly swept with utmost relief at the sight of Harry and Neville hobbling up the stone steps towards her.

Ginny stopped the scream from bubbling out of her throat, noticing the glass spherical prophecy tightly clutched by Neville's hand, not wanting to draw attention to them any further.

“Come on!” she heard Harry cry desperately, hauling at Neville’s robes. “Just try and push with your legs —”

Something hot like liquid heat was suddenly melting down Ginny's ankle. She looked down to see that the bandages Ron had given her were glowing a deep purple. It's not the bandages, she realized, it's my foot— the glowing stopped.

What the—

"It won't last, Ms. Weasley, but it'll do long enough."

Ginny turned, wand raised, to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind her, his own wand equally aloft, his face white and furious. She felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body—they were saved.

"Professor," she stammered, "I—"

"Mr. Longbottom is in need of your assistance, dear one," Dumbledore said with no preamble. "Go. The spell on your ankle won't last long."

She wasted no time.

Running down the stone steps, she ran into Neville, clutched him by the arm, and he almost sagged on top of her completely if it weren't for Harry holding him up.

"Ginny!" Harry looked at her in panic. "Where's Ron?"

"He's fine," she panted, hitching one of Neville's arms over her shoulders, "They're all fine. Harry, listen. Dumbledo—"

Announcing his presence was futile, she realized, as screams of fury suddenly rang throughout the chamber.

All three of them turned back to see one of the Death Eaters running for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line.

Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Ginny saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: He was laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light barely missed his head. Sirius staggered backwards in shock. Ginny saw Bellatrix's face erupt into a triumphant smile as she raised her wand, pointing straight for his chest—

She heard Harry yell to her right but she had no more time to think, adrenaline and desperation pumping through her veins. She grabbed the prophecy from Neville who's grip had slackened in fright. This is way lighter than a Quaffle, a voice spoke in the back of her head as she let go of Neville, though unaware of doing so, shifted her weight back for a split second and released the glass orb with all her might, aiming for the space between Sirius and the tip of Bellatrix's wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It almost hit him

The jet of green light flashed through Ginny's memory, colliding with the the spherical orb of the prophecy instead of Sirius's chest, although its force was so strong that it knocked him off his feet, he passed out cold on the Death Chamber floor....

"Ginerva? Ginerva, dear, I told you to lie back down— Oh, my sweet," Madam Pomfrey's voice shook her out of her painful daze. She was back in the hospital wing, hand numb from clutching the bed post so tightly; the pain from her ankle was making her dizzy that she didn't realize the tears pouring out of her eyes.

"Is," she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve messily, "is he going to be—"

"The healers are doing everything they can," Madam Pomfrey murmured quietly although her face was grim. "Let me have a look at your—"

"I'm okay," said Ginny stubbornly. She wouldn't move an inch farther away from Harry and Sirius than she already was.

"Ginny, I swear if you don't let Madam Pomfrey look at your leg I'll hex you myself," she heard Ron growl, although tiredly, from the bed behind her. "There's nothing you can do just lie back down."

Ginny gritted her teach so hard they almost hurt as much as everything else. She stared at Sirius's lying form helplessly from afar, then shifted her eyes back to Harry who now had a tired-looking Remus guarding him from shaking his godfather awake.

She gave a defeated sigh and let the school matron lead her to bed, sleep consuming her instantly no matter how hard she fought it.

----—----

It's been almost a week. A week. And Sirius still hasn't woken.

Ginny was finally discharged after four days; Madam Pomfrey casted final charms to fully mend her ankle and prescribed her with the Potion for Dreamless Sleep to help her with her shock and nightmares.

Ron and Neville had to stay for two more nights, and Hermione for another week—the curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud (Hermione had cast a Silencing Charm on him before he attacked), had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey’s words, “quite enough damage to be going on with.” Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day and although she was improving greatly, was already bored with the hospital wing.

This gave Ginny every excuse to drop by everyday without fail. She brought everyone Honeydukes sweets, some pastries from Dobby, and fresh flowers for Sirius's bedside. She's also piled his stash of Pumpkin Pasties so much that she heard one of the healers attending to him scoff in disdain.

"If the rebound curse won't kill him, those sweets will, deary," said the healer in disapproval.

But Ginny didn't care, of course, she merely hid the stash under his bed, away from prying eyes. He would thank her when he woke up. For a laugh (more for her than anyone, really), she also hoarded volumes of The Quibbler from Luna, specifically the editions flooded with speculations of Sirius being the innocent singing sensation Stubby Boardman, lead of the band The Hobogoblins.

"You have to wake up now," she told his sleeping form, making sure to sound as miffed as she possibly could. Dumbledore said that talking to him might help, although she suspected he only said so for Ginny's sake. She sat on the edge of his bed one Hogsmeade morning. She barely went anywhere besides the hospital wing these days—despite Dean Thomas's efforts in coaxing her a trip to the Three Broomsticks. "You haven't even seen me play Seeker, Stubby, what happens when your godson takes it back next term?"

But she was only met with Sirius's steady breathing. Which was a good thing, at least is what the healers from St. Mungo's said. The collision that the Killing Curse and the prophecy made was enough to block the curse's intentions, but was able to emit some kind of stunning aftermath, knocking Sirius out cold. She remembered when they all thought him dead, Harry shaking with fury as he dashed out of the Death Chamber after Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You should've seen him, Stubby," she whispered, her eyes roaming all over Sirius's pale, gaunt face. "He looked like he would've killed for you."

She thought she saw a hitch in his breathing, a change so subtle that she held her own. But the following breaths after that were as steady as it had bin, making her convince herself it was only her hopeful imagination.

"Ginny?"

She was so focused on studying Sirius's breathing that she didn't hear privacy curtain open behind her.

Harry Potter, skinny, pale, and hair mussed up as ever, stood awkwardly by the foot of his godfather's bed, his hands holding a bowl of what smelled like onion soup with sides of sliced bread. His glasses were askew and misty from the spring wind and he looked like he just shimmied out of bed and put on the first jumper he saw, because he was wearing one with a big 'R' on his chest.

It was then that Ginny realized that she hasn't seen much of Sirius's godson in the long period that he's been lying in the hospital wing. Every time she visited, even when the others were still around, Harry would've already left to god-knows-where, or she would have had classes and missed running into him. Even sightings in the common room or at the Great Hall were rare.

It's not as if you've been avoiding him, Ginny thought to herself as she stood up to leave, it's just bad timing is all.

"Harry," she smiled at him and nodded at his bowl of soup, "That for the dog?"

He gave out a laugh that made her insides thump erratically. She hasn't seen a smile on his face for so long and she's missed it terribly.

"Yeah," he said with a small smile, and looked at Sirius. "Looks like he's not hungry still."

His smile still held its place but his eyes were almost cheerless.

Crossing her arms dramatically, Ginny turned to glare at the benumbed form before them, "Hear that, Stubby? Your godson's been bringing you breakfast and this is how you repay him?"

Again, they were met with silence and she heard Harry chuckle, "Maybe that'll work," he said, "I've been spitting praises all over to try to get him to wake."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't spoil him," she warned although she smiled fondly down at Sirius, "he might be enjoying it too much."

Harry let out a tiny laugh once again, making her warm all over. She loved seeing him not brooding. It was a rare sight this term, and now that Umbridge was gone, she hoped she'd see more of it.

"Well," she started as she scanned the floor for her book bag, "I'll leave you with the rascal then—"

"You don't have to leave," said Harry and she looked up at him to meet his alarmed gaze. "Really, Ginny I—," he stammered, "you don't have to go."

Ginny stared at him worryingly, "Are you sure? You don't have any secrets to talk about?"

He chuckled, "Yes. I mean no. No—we— I have no secrets," he was surely flushing now, and Ginny sniggered.

"Well alright then," she said, hoisting herself back up on the edge of Sirius's bed. "Is that onion soup I smell? Haven’t had breakfast."

Harry sighed with relief and rounded the bed, grabbing two spoons from his godfather's bedside drawer and sagged down the chair beside Ginny's legs. They sipped the onion soup in silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat and glanced up at her.

"I—," his face was red and she was sure it was because of the soup, "I never got to thank you."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him questioningly before slurping loudly from her spoon. Harry burst out laughing.

She grinned cheekily at him, legs swinging back and forth on the edge of the bed, "What for?"

He shook his head, "What do you mean 'what for?' You saved Sirius."

It was Ginny’s turn to look embarrassed. Seeing as this was the first time they were actually talking about what happened at the Ministry (the first time talking at all after the Ministry), the subject of the prophecy that Ginny so careless sent flying (quite literally) was never mentioned, not even by the others. She didn't think anybody even knew about it—apart from Harry and Neville and other members of the Order present in the Death Chamber. She had little thought for it, all her worries focused on her friends and her brother getting better.

"Barely," replied Ginny, shrugging nonchalantly at the boy in front of her. "To be honest, I could've thrown something more durable," Harry laughed at this, "but balls are the only thing I'm good at aiming with and that was the closest thing." She frowned after a thought, "To be honest, I wasn't thinking at all."

Harry shook his head again and looked at her with something she could've described as awe, "Well I'm glad you didn't think," he said and a hint of despair flashed in his eyes, although quickly appeased. "I don't even want to think about what would've if you did."

They were quiet for a moment, both now focused on Sirius's rhythmic breathing. Ginny chanced a deceitful glance at the boy she so perplexingly pined for for so long. She couldn't deny that her fourth year in Hogwarts drastically changed now that Harry was more to her than just her brother's best friend. She could actually call him her friend. She couldn't believe it took her this long to woman up and finally start talking around him, realizing how much of an awkward bloke he was.

Well, I won't miss out on you anymore, Harry Potter.

She smiled wistfully at the fact that his hair was as unkept as ever, not realizing that her own hand was reaching out in a foolish attempt to tame it...

"Hey, I was thinking!"

Ginny gave a startled jump, Harry's voice slicing through her shameful haze, and reared back her hand so fast that her elbow hit Sirius's knee.

"OW," she yelped, clutching her joint closely.

"Wha— are you okay?"

"What in the—what is this man made of? Steel?" She rubbed her elbow, wincing, and hoped Harry took no notice of her mortifying intentions.

He merely laughed, "No, I don't reckon Sirius is much of a Superman."

"A super what?"

His eyes were full of amusement as he gazed a Ginny's disgruntled face. "Never mind. Listen, what do you think about trying out for Chaser next year?"

She blinked at him.

"Chaser?"

Harry blushed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah I mean—er—I know you're Seeker now," Ginny was smirking now, "but uh, you have really good aim and— well, that's not saying you're not a good Seeker already. I mean— I don't even know if next year's Captain will take me back in if—"

Before Ginny could stop herself, she grabbed a piece of uneaten bread from the meal they just shared and flicked it straight for Harry's face.

It hit him square in between his eyebrows, nudging his round glasses even more askew.

His expression was priceless.

She laughed boisterously at his stunned look. He was gawking at her.

"That aim good enough for you, Potter?"

It took him a beat to recover, a wide playful grin spreading across his face. "Pretty good, Weasley," he admitted, then tapped on his forehead mockingly, "Could definitely use some practice though, you missed the scar."

Nothing but absurd and ridiculous banter issued after that, their conversation flowing with so much ease, that Ginny swore to herself she would never allow her foolish feelings to keep her from Harry ever again.

And if she wasn't so enamored by his breath-taking laughter, she might have noticed the impish ghost of a smirk from the patient lying on the bed.

#by gabi #hinny fic #ginny weasley and sirius black friendship #harry potter #ginny weasley #sirius black #ootp #order of the phoenix missing moments #Sirius lives #byGabi

106 notes · View notes