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#Reward Management Assignment Help
catherinelwriter · 8 months
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etfrin · 4 months
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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ doll — coriolanus snow & clemensia dovecote ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞
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☆ Warning: NSFW | threesome, cum eating, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), fingering (f. receiving) | lmk if I forgot something
☆ Pairing: tutor! Clemensia x fem! Reader x tutor! Coriolanus
☆ Summary: headcanons and a drabble for tutor! Clemmie and Coryo <33
☆ A/N: I want them both so deal with it :/
masterlist | navigation | bc: @cafekitsune
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were just an assignment to them at first. They agreed to tutor you because of the extra credits.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you weren't cooperative at first. Your eyes filled with annoyance, your words filled with animosity that neither Coryo nor Clemmie knew the reason for.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — turns out you were always bullied by the rich and privileged so you had already assumed them to be the same.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were proven wrong. Coryo felt sympathy for you, as you both lived in a similar situation. Coryo sneaks out food from the academy to share with you during your solo sessions with him.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — Clemensia bought food from home to share with you. Bringing in the finest cuisines that you could only dream about eating, you always had leftovers to give to Coryo later.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — this helped win them plus points with you, and you begin to earnestly pay attention to the lessons. Try your best to impress them.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — it started with ‘rewards’ Clemmie begins to give you with your good grades. For a C you would get dresses and more, a B would get you makeup and branded perfumes, and an A would get you everything mentioned before along with whatever you wanted.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — of course, it wasn't because she had grown attached to you and wanted to spoil you to no end. She had begun to like your smiles, and your laughs, the small gasp you made when you did something right. There's no doubt in her mind that you deserved these gifts. It certainly helped that all the clothes were tailored just for you and made you look like the doll you are for her.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — with Coryo’s financial situation, he couldn't spoil you with lavishing gifts. So he simply manipulated you into craving his praise, his validation instead. When you get something wrong, he looks at you with such disappointment that tears pool immediately but gosh, when you get something right. His blue eyes brighten, his lips pulling up in a smile so radiant that it blinds you, making you unable to see the cold man underneath.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — soon, both of them realize their feelings for you. However both of them know better than to fight for your attention, they both devise a plan to share their sweet little doll instead. They slowly coax you into a relationship with them. You don't even realize the web of traps you are getting into.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — the study sessions including both of them increase. You squeeze between Coryo and Clemmie as they teach you. You can't take in air with Clemmie's hot breathing down your neck, making you shiver. Her fingers laced with yours in something that you thought was platonic but was anything but. You couldn't think with Coriolanus so close to you. His lips inches away from yours as he goes on and on about the history of Panem.
How the fuck did he manage to make history sexy was a mystery never to be known.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — then it happened, you snapped, leaning forward to brush your lips against Coryo. And Clemensia begins to press her lips on your nape. Her arm around your waist, trapping you in like a snake's hold.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .
nsfw drabble ahead
It seemed like Clemmie had you trapped between her and Coryo. Her fingers unbutton the silk blouse she had gifted you. Her cold hand now pressed against your bare, hot-to-touch skin. She whispered to you, “My sweet doll. Kiss him back, nice and slow. There you go darling, you're so smart.”
You moan into Coriolanus's mouth as your cunt begins to soak through your panties from Clemmie's words. Coriolanus bites your lower lip, his body pressed against yours. His hands on your face, controlling the kiss, dominating you with no chance of escape. He doesn't break the kiss even when you can feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of air.
You gasp when he finally does break the kiss. Clemensia by then had already unbuttoned your blouse and unclasped your lacy black bra (also gifted by her). Coriolanus felt his cock throb as he saw Clemmie's freshly manicured hands knead your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples to get them hard and perky.
You looked like a slut like this. Your lips are swollen, your eyes wide and your body is aroused. He could feel his eyes darken with lust and he leaned down to begin kissing and licking your right breast while he left the left one to Clemensia's mentations.
He sucks your nipple, making sure his tongue swirls around the bud. He pays special attention, nipping the bud occasionally, savoring the cries of pleasure leaving your lips.
Meanwhile, Clemensia was pinching your other nipple, her free hand trailing down your body to free you of your skirt, along with the soaking wet lace panties. She giggles as her fingers swipe at your wet folds. Her digits gather your arousal, all sticky and white. “Taste this, Coryo,” she whispered, interrupting Coryo from putting hickeys all over your chest.
Coriolanus gladly accepts your taste on his tongue, he diligently licks up your juices from Clemensias’ fingers. The sight makes your pussy clench around nothing, a moan of pure want escaping your lips.
“Loosen her up for me, Clemmie,” he said as she pulls out her fingers to begin teasing your pussy again. Clemensia gladly agreed with Coryo. She whispered to you, her lips brushing against your ears, “Next time, I will bring the strap I specifically ordered for you, sweetheart. So it won't be only Coriolanus’ cock you feel next time.”
You couldn't reply anything, not when her fingers began to dip inside your gummy walls. Stretching you out to take Coriolanus's cock. She begins to thrust in her fingers inside your walls, with a gentle pace. Her thumb rubbing at your clit. She crooks her fingers perfectly, her fingertips rubbing at your g-spot, making you see stars as your body jolts from ecstasy.
Coriolanus calms you down with soft kisses on your lips. “She's good at this, huh?” He coos at you, the tip of his tongue catching the teardrops that fall from your eyes. “But you can take it, pet. You're made for us after all. Our doll.” You nod at his words. You would do anything to please them both.
“She’s ready, Coryo,” Clemensia said. She takes her fingers outside of your warm, wet walls and presses her fingertips to your lips until you take her digits inside. You moan around her fingers as your tongue tastes you for the time.
Coriolanus nods at Clemmie's words. He was positioning his cock to your entrance. He smirks at you. “You're gonna take it like a good girl,” he whispered, no, commands you. And with that, he thrusts into you. His cock now kissing your cervix, your pussy pulsating around him and your gummy walls burning from the stretch.
Clemensia eats up your scream, covering your lips with hers as Coryo lets you settle down. You whine, Clemmie's hands holding you down and Coriolanus's hands around your hips, gripping so tight that bruises would bloom soon.
It doesn't take long for Coriolanus to begin to roll his hips, his dick pounding into your heat without care for your pleasure. Meanwhile, Clemensia's hands roam all over your body, pinching and kneading the flesh. Her lips never leave yours. She occasionally leaned back whispered praises about how good you are, and how much she will stretch you out with her strap, and how good she will eat you after this. Each of her filthy fantasies had your cunt clenching around Coryo's cock and he groans, his lips attaching themselves to your pulse point on your neck.
He doesn't pay you or Clemensia any attention, fucking pussydrunk he was, merely chasing his pleasure from your cunt. With Clemmie's constant praises, her hands worshiping you, and Coriolanus sucking the darkest hickey on your skin, his cock stroking your walls, his cockhead grazing your spongy spot inside your walls with every thrust.
It didn't take you long to have your eyes roll back, your body turning into jelly. Coriolanus groans as his thrusts turn sloppy. He cums inside of you with no warning, his body falling on top of you as he gasps. He whines, “Such a good girl. Such sweet cunt, that's my doll.”
Clemmie chuckles, looking at your fucked out state. She was going to have fun with you as soon as you gained some energy. And she tells you exactly that as she gets up to bring you and Coryo glasses of water.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚
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artbyblastweave · 10 months
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Still playing Skyrim. And I’m interested to report that the game is actually better than I remember, on balance. But I’m kind of fascinated by what’s going on with Lydia, mechanically and narratively.
Lydia is the first follower who gets shoved in your face just by virtue of following the main quest. There are others you can pick up earlier, but not without finishing errands (for Faendal and Sven), by forking up a pretty big chunk of change for the early game by hiring Janessa, or by going out of your way in some other manner. If you’re completely new to the game and you’re just powering through the main story as it’s presented, she’s the first option for a follower that the game highlights for you in giant blinking neon lights. And as a quest reward, she’s mechanically kind of a godsend at that point in the story; a doubling of carry capacity, an excellent meat shield and distraction, a way to extract utility from weapons and armor you don’t want to use yourself. More subjectively she provides the impression of a stalwart ally or companion in what can be a very lonely worldspace to exist in. There’s very little reason not to take her with you, and once you have her, the majority of companions being equal, there’s very little reason to get rid of her until she stops level scaling.
Despite the mechanical utility Lydia provides at a crucial point, and the resultant likelyhood that you’ll haul her along for the ride, she’s only a couple steps up from the companion cube. She has no specific, non-fungible impact on the narrative beyond demonstrating Jarl Balgruuf’s favor. Her deferral to you is automatic; if someone is actively paying her a salary to help you defile graves, cut deals with every deity on the continent and invade the afterlife, it sure as hell isn’t you. It isn’t clear what her gig under Balgruuf was before she was assigned to you. She has no personal narrative. She has no personal side quest. One of her biggest inklings of personality is when she expresses vague dissatisfaction with being treated as a pack mule, but then she does it anyway.  She’s party to world-shaking events and political upheavals, but she’s present purely in her capacity as your appendix, so reality simply treats her as your plus-one. 
She’ll block doors you’re trying to get through, and she’ll get mad at you if you push her out of the way. She’ll charge into battle or set off traps while you’re trying to sneak. She’ll microaggress you with stock Nord dialogue while pulverizing your enemies, a plurality of whom are also Nords. She’ll distract bosses long enough to buy you breathing room for a healing spell or a potion. You’ll kill her by accident with an ill-timed area-of-effect spell, roll your eyes, and, ultimately, probably reload your save. Because she might only be a couple steps up from a companion cube, but the whole gag with the companion cube is how ridiculously low the threshold is for the audience to get genuinely attached to something in a video game. A thin character invites apophenia. Behaviors that are purely downstream of dev thoughtlessness will still imply character traits if taken at Watsonian Face Value. In this case, inexplicable undying loyalty, reserved comments on impressive landmarks, and comical stoicism in the face of some of the weirdest events it’s conceptually possible to encounter.  So here’s to weird, underbaked companions in Bethesda Games, and everything we can project onto the void they provide. And Here’s to that related genus of character- units in squad-based tactics or management-sim games with permadeath mechanics who last long enough and accumulate enough equipment, skill points, etc. that they become your Special Little Guy despite otherwise lacking any deliberate character traits.
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k1ngpin42 · 1 month
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𝕀𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦
✨Popular Abby x quiet reader✨
I’m sorry I really yapped on at the start, I used to be a wp writer so it’s kinda engraved in my thought process sorry, (I'll put the keep reading part where it get's interesting.) Smut will be in bold tho if u don’t wanna do allat 🤪
MINORS DON’T INTERACT: read at your own risk but there will be mature themes and minors really shouldn’t have Tumblr in the first place. Bare minimum 16+ plsss
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Warnings: Fisting/fingering (receiving), cunnilingus (receiving and giving), strap on (finally I know- (receiving)), Dominant Abby, provocative sub reader, choking, hickeys, restraints
You had been with the WLFS for almost three months now. You had managed to impress some people during your first month with your shooting skills in addition to stealth combat and how crafty you were. People, specifically Isaac, found you to be an asset. In theory, you were the ideal friend and even partner, however trying to make friends was much more difficult than it should be, especially when the world you lived in was so fucked. You had some, sure, a nice girl called Chloe was your best friend and you had a few others you were close with. It didn’t help that you were known for never going to events and it also didn’t help that one person in particular liked to gloat about it.
Abby Anderson, Isaacs favourite, built like a fucking war hero with muscles bigger than most men and beauty to match them. She was very picky with who she went on patrol with. It was Manny and Owen or Owen or Manny, no outsiders ever. You had asked to join once on a mission you knew you could have been very helpful in, but Abby denied it faster than she could ask your own name. After that, she went out of her way to make sure the embarrassment really hit, asking you to get their weapons for them, making sure Isaac assigned you where you would see her coming back and fourth from the mission she had so confidently denied you from.
You were in the library, if you could call it that. It was really just an old locker room which now had a bunch of books in it, mostly uninteresting. Everyone knows the good shit had to get smuggled in, but you were right out of trading supplies. It’s not like you got many items of value in the first place, everyone else in your patrol groups would take the majority of the rewards, and you were too much of a people pleaser to say anything.
Chloe walks in and your smile widens, your shoulders dropping as you let out a breath with all your tension inside it. Holy fuck, you didn’t realise how tense you were until now. 
“Chloe!” You exclaim with a smile, waving at her. She smiles back.
“Hey…you alright?” Chloe probed. You nod.
“Mmm, yeah just…got some stuff on my mind.”
“Abby giving you trouble again?”
“God, when is she not? It doesn’t bother me though, I’ve learnt to just tune their whole group out by now.”
“Didn’t she take your clothes from the laundry and swap them with Owens?”
“…I’d…rather not talk about that.” You say quickly, putting a dull copy of some fuckin book you were reading back on the shelf.
“To be honest, you rocked his ‘chill-dad-with-no-taste’ look. At least in my opinion.” Chloe declares with a smile. You groan. 
“Thanks.” You stand up, stretching and cracking your knuckles. 
“She put a whole chilli in your burrito.” Chloe reminded you, not letting the subject go.
“I love spicy food.” You explain, nonchalantly. She smiles, rolling her eyes playfully.
“You hate spicy food.”
“Untrue, I love spicy food, spicy food just doesn’t love me.” Chloe sighs.
“…Okay.”
“She also-“
“I get it. Abby gets off on my embarrassment, it’s great.” You sigh with irritation. She nods sympathetically. 
“Well, it’s not just Abby, Mel and Owen are also dicks.”
“Yeah, they are.” Chloes eyebrows furrow and a familiar look touches her ordinarily soft features.
“You want to say something, right?”
“I- heard Isaac assigned you with Abby, Mel, Manny and Cole to secure a shipping zone near the old station.” You laugh loudly and her face remains the same, worrying you mildly. 
“Yeah, sure he did, now what’s the news?” You ask again. She says your name quietly, almost like a warning. Your smile drops. “What…?”
“I had to grab a radio from the old apartment and I overheard Isaac and Abby talking.”
“Jesus, Chloe.”
“No, no I didn’t go up I swear.”
“You heard them from all the way downstairs?” She rolls her eyes.
“They were arguing.”
“Oh great, Abby was arguing with Isaac, now I know this really is a joke.”
“It’s not a joke, okay? Abby was arguing because she didn’t want to be assigned with you. Isaac said you’re more agile and equipped for stealth than the others. He said he’s pairing you with Abby.”
 You’re frozen. Fucking frozen in time and space.
“No…”
“Hey, hey, hey you’re gonna be just fine.” 
“Oh my god…” You gasp.
“She’s friends with three thirds of the WLFS in here, if they all like her she’s gotta have some good qualities?” Chloe attempts.
“I don’t love how unconfident about that you sounded. Fuck I can’t fucking believe this.”
“You said you didn’t mind her now though, right?”
“Well that was a fucking lie wasn’t it!” You say, and you both burst out laughing.
“Oh fuck I’m so gonna have my head bashed against a wall aren’t I?”
“Uh…may your death be swift?” You sigh.
“Thank you.”
The door opens harshly, making an echoey bang as it hits the wall. You and Chloe both whip your head around to see Abby, standing there in all her glory. You roll your eyes.
“We’re in a library asshole, you probably don’t come in here much, or know how to read- for that matter, but you’re typically meant to be quiet in these-“ “Ah, if it isn’t the two nerdiest people left on the planet.”
“Speak of the devil.” Chloe whispers. Abby smirks, looking into your eyes.
“Ah, you were talking about me? No surprise there-“
“Fuck you.”
“Mmm, I bet you’d like that too.” Her words shock you and you give Chloe a look through the side of your eye. She returns this by giving you a little shrug of confusion.
“I’m here to set up ground rules. If you even want to step one of your dainty little feet in the direction of me or my friends, you’d do your best to follow it, okay?”
“Good, I’ve got some boundaries I’d like to set up as w-“
“Shut the fuck up.” Abby interrupts. You roll your eyes.
“Okay first of all, don’t talk unless it’s strictly about the mission or someone asks you a question. Second of all, don’t ask me why, if I tell you to do something do it and last of all don’t fuck things up. I can add more rules as I see fit as well.” Abby states.
“You’re a fucking psychopath.” You mutter to yourself and Abby smiles widely. You hug Chloe tightly before you leave, placing a hand on her pale face.
“You’re gonna be fine.” She mouths. You nod and turn to follow Abby out the hallway in silence for some time until she randomly stops in her tracks. She clears her throat.
“Go get our weapons.” You open your mouth to object, but you can’t be fucked wasting words on her. You don’t reply before heading in to the armoury. 
“I need Abby’s usual, Manny’s usual and I’ll take a pistol and a silenced literally anything, please.” The man looks at you a little suspiciously, but nods, walking over to the weapon wall. 
“Why isn’t Abby just getting them herself?” He asks, not in an overly probing way. 
“She prefers me to do stuff for her.” You explain. “Oh, cute.” He says, handing you the things. You look at him, bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I thought you meant you were…”
“Nope. Do you have any daggers?”
“Daggers…? What century is this? BC?”
“Fine, knifes, then?”
“Here.” He says, handing you a rather average looking metal blade. You sigh. 
“Thanks…”
“The ammos on the side of that crate over there.” You nod, giving him a fond expression.
“Thanks.” You say as a rather devious thought comes to mind. You grab a box of Abbys ammo and make your way to the shooting range. As swift as you can, you turn it on and hit the bullseye over and over until there’s just over 10 bullets left in the packet.
“Hmm…” You murmer, looking down at the gun. “Fuck it.” You say, shooting four more bullets. You quickly make your way back to Abby, quickly putting your ammo and weapons in your bag. 
“Took you long enough.” She says simply, trying not to laugh at all the shit you’re holding. You roll your eyes.
“You try carrying all of it then.”
“Are you implying I’m stronger than you?” She teases. You continue to glare at her.
“Is the air thin in here?” You question, and Abby looks confused, opening her mouth to retort but you stop her.
“Or is it just the size of your ego making it hard to fucking breathe.” You say. She shrugs, still smirking smugly. 
“Who could know?”
You and Abby head over to the wagon and Mel immediately stands up. You sigh.
“Fuck me.” You murmer, and through the side of your eye you see Abby give you a look of what could be mistaken as sympathy, if that girl possessed the capacity for that emotion. 
“It’s you.” Mel says, as if the words are physically hurting her to say. You sigh, forcing a fake smile.
“Yep, hey Mel.”  Alice runs over to you, leaning her legs against you and kissing you all over. 
“Hi beautiful girl.” You utter quietly as you stroke your fingers through her fur. Abby watches you intently, fighting a smile at how affectionate you were. Mel looked less than impressed.
“Come on Alice, here.” She beckoned. You roll your eyes as Alice hesitantly returns to her place beside Mel. Owen sits down aggressively, crossing his arms and looking away from you. 
What the fuck is with these people? They don’t even know you. Manny sit’s next to the driver and you sigh as you sit beside Owen. He was a repulsive guy, childish, looked weird, smelt weird and his only personality trait was his relationship with Mel that everyone was so obsessed with. ‘The couple,’ you had heard them be referred to as. So fucking dramatic.
“Did you hear that Brenda’s sister snuck in to that party last night, drank half the liquor and then tried to kiss like 10 guys there?” Abby laughs. Mel shrugged.
“Owen and I were busy, so no.” She says, and they both smirk. Gag.
“You should have seen Manny’s moves, he did a full flip, I wish I could have recorded it.”
“Oh yeah Aidan told me! What a guy.” Owen remarks, placing his hand in Mels.
“Abby how have you been sleeping these days?” Mel questions. This catches your attention but Abby just dismissively shakes her head.
“Fine.” She said, signalling at you with her head. You would rather be in a room of clickers right now.
“Hey, um…where do you sit?” Mel asks you. You look at her, a little surprised. 
“Um…what?”
“Well I never see you, so.”
“Oh…I sit with Chloe, Sophie…sometimes Beatrice and Whitney too.” Her expressions remain unchanged and the others look at each other, clearly not familiar with those names or people. 
“I’ve…heard of Whitney, I think. She plays the games right?” Abby asked. You glare at her. 
“Yeah.” You say simply.
When the wagon finally arrived and you handed out the weapons to everyone, Abby immediately started assigning roles.
“Okay so um, Cole will stay here and scout the perimeter, guard the exits and the truck, I’ll go with Manny to take out whoever, Owen you can go with Mel to get the supplies.”
“Um okay what am I supposed to do?” You practically spit. She sighs.
“Go with Owen and Mel then I don’t care.”
“Hey fuck that she’s not going with us!” Owen says. Mel hits him playfully.
“Owen..” She says, only pretending to care.
“Isaac assigned me to do stealth take downs because brutes like you have no agility, I’m better off with you.” You tell Abby plainly. She looks at you, annoyed. 
“Fuck it, we’ll all cut through that building and we’ll go from there.” She says, and everyone nods, Owen still looking considerably more irritable than the others. 
“I’m gonna make sure this rooms clear.” Manny says.
“Oh, I’ll go with you-“ Abby starts to say, but he shakes his head. 
“No that’s fine, do you want to go with me?” He asks you. You smile slightly.
“Yes, sure.” You say, feeling quite grateful. You walk through the room and check the benches and cupboard for suppliesf. You find some parts and start using a large item on the edge of a bench to adjust one of your weapons.
“What are you doing?” He asks. You smile cautiously at him.
“I’m refining the scope.” “With just that?”
“Well, yeah.” You explain awkwardly. He chuckles and you turn to face him, confused.
“Well shit, you’re actually smart, huh?”
“Um…I don’t know.” You laugh back. He walks over, examining the weapon more closely. 
“You think you can upgrade one of my weapons?” “Sure, which one?”
“My pistol, the recoil on that is shithouse.” You can’t help but laugh.
“I’m sorry ‘shit house?’” You ask, still laughing. He smiles back.
“It is what I say.” 
“Let me look at it.” He hands you his gun and you examine it closely, getting some tools out of your pack. 
“The hammer spring’s smashed. Here.” You unclip the flashlight from your shirt. 
“Aim the light on that part there.” You instruct, and he nods, watching as you replace it. You look around the room and find a mostly in tact glass bottle. You approach it and line it up on the bench.
“Try it now.” You say, and he nods, shooting the bottle from a safe distance.
“Oh shit, that’s heaps better.”
“It’s no problem.” You say, your face feeling rather hot. He lets out a deep breath.
“I know being put with our group isn’t ideal.” He starts. You groan, feeling a pep talk approaching. 
“They’ll see how good you are.”
“Oh yeah, how? By doing free weapon upgrades?” You mock. He laughs.
“It’s a good start.”
“Did you know Abby put an entire chilli in my food?” He sighs. “She can be…petty.” Manny explains.
“What did I even do?”
“I don’t know, she seems, and don’t tell her I told you this but…obsessed with you. Ever since you wanted to join our patrol that day she made it her whole personality.”
“Ugh, I know right? ‘Look at that loser’ sounds familiar I’m guessing?”
“Um, not really, she talks about you pretty genuinely. It’s more ‘did you hear she slipped past that massive scar base without alerting them? And “did you see what she was wearing?”
“Mmm of course cause she made me wear her crusty ex boyfriends clothes all day. Did you know Mel accused me of sleeping with, quote unquote “her man” when she saw me in those?” Manny wheezes at this comment. 
“They’re quite an intense pair.” He admits. 
You two return to the others and your eyes immediately fan to Abby’s body. She’s wearing a sleeveless black top and she was clearly lifting something heavy because there was a light dusting of sweat all the way up her arms. You could also tell because of her veins. Fuck, her veins. Her veins were so visible. 
God what is wrong with you? No, what is wrong with her? How dare she look so fucking….fuckable? Only to be a genuine dick AND like men? What a waste.
“There’s a lot of them, but if we split into groups we can take them by surprise. Manny, with me.” Abby instructs. You force yourself out of your daydream when Manny taps you on your shoulder.
“Come.” He says, and you follow them out, staying prone in the grass. 
“We’ll need to be stealthy, I can go and you guys can stay here and cover me.” You suggest. Abby scoffs.
“No fucking way.” 
“You’ve already seen me do more-“
“We’re not putting you in danger!” Abby says quickly. She anxiously avoids eye contact.
“Of…the mission, I mean. You’ll compromise it easy.”
“Abs, this girl is resourceful. At the first sign of trouble we’ll be there, but let her do what she’s here for.” Manny tries. Abby rolls her eyes and then look into yours for what feels like an eternity. 
“First. Sign.” She warns. You nod.
“Thank you.” You say, sneaking out towards the group.
“I don’t fucking like this Manny.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“What? That’s not what- ugh…” She says before accepting her defeat and letting the silence win. She watches you the entire time. The way you skilfully pick off the men who are there is like a work of art and your movements are smoother than silk. You enter one of the buildings where Abby and Manny’s vision of your is corrupted. Manny looks over at Abby and is surprised to be witnessing such panic on her face.
“Are you alright Abs?” He asks. She doesn’t reply.
“Abby?”
“Fuck.” She says, before jumping down out of their spot. 
“Abby what the actual fuck-“ He mutters as he climbs down beside her and they scurry into some grass.
“What the fuck are you doing? They’ll see us.” Manny protests. Abbys sighs. 
“Oh yeah? Well if she gets shot in there who will be there to get the stuff?”
“No one’s gonna get anything if they shoot US for getting out of cover, Abs.” One of the men holding a large rifle stops, looking around. 
“Finn?” A woman asks him. He continues looking around, shining his light through the grass.
“I thought I heard something.” The woman nods.
“Keep your guard up.” She tells him. Abby groans.
“How do we get in the building now??” She whisper-shouts. Manny thinks for a moment. 
“I think we need to take them both out.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” They crawl towards the building when, to their dismay, Abby’s foot crunches on some broken glass.
“Fuck-“
“WHAT WAS THAT?” Finn calls, alerting you. You hear several gunshots and consider whether or not you should run towards them. It could be Abby or Manny. No, just stick to your mission, you were almost at the jackpot. Right when you get to the safe you start spinning the dial until you hear Manny’s voice.
“Look out!” More gunshots. They probably had it under control, they’re strong, unstoppable really, and Abby would be enraged if she found out you were right in front of the supplies and went to rescue her instead. 
“Abby?” Manny calls, desperately. That did it, you run behind the next cover and dive into the grass to look for her. A man points his gun at her and you quickly shoot him with your silenced gun, grabbing her arm and pulling her into you. She falls over you, pinning you under her and using her arms as support on the grass on either side of your head. You’re startled, feeling her warm breath on your face, seeing her eyes up close.
“Abby what are you doing here?” You demand once you finally find your words again. 
“I…we’ll talk about it later, where the fuck are my bullets?” Your face goes numb.
“Um…” You say. She practically yells.
“UGHH WHY?”
“Okay well why are you always a dick to me man?? I didn’t expect you to be taking down an entire camp…if you had just trusted me-“
Abby get’s off of you and you sit up. 
“You TOOK my bullets?? Give them back.”
“No.” 
“Give. Them back.”
“I used them okay??” Abby grabs you, pulling you so you’re standing. Your heart races as she does this.
“Fine, you’re coming with me, we’re getting more bullets.”
“I found the safe.” You blurt out. Abby stops dragging you, letting out a deep breath and smiling ever so slightly. 
“Thank god, did you get the supplies?”
“Um…” Abbys groans again at your response.
“And WHY…not?” She asks. Your face flushes crimson.
“I heard you scream.” You admit. You lower your voice to a whisper so quiet that it’s almost inaudible. “I was worried.” You add. Her face softens. 
“Alright, that’s fine, we’ll take them out first and come back to it. Let’s just get these fucking bullets since you feel the need to fuck everything up even though I said before we started-“
“Hey you fucked up too, okay?” Abbys rolls her eyes.
“Irrelevant. Now let’s go.”
You follow her into a room and hear a massive bang sound from behind it, feeling the ground shake as a result. 
“Abby…”
“Fuck, we’re locked in aren’t we?”
“Try the door.” You say. She lets out a huff.
“If this doesn’t open I’m never letting you come with me again.”
“You’re so annoying, Abs.” You say, and she turns back from the door to face you.
“I’ve never heard you call me anything other than Abby, asshole or dick.” She states. You smile.
“Oh I’m sorry, did I leave ‘motherfucker’ and ‘ignorant, arrogant asshole’ off the list, Abigail?”
“Abigail?” She asks, and your neck feels hot when you say it. She was right, it did feel unnatural. 
“I like that.” Remarks Abby, trying the door handle and coming to the conclusion that you were, indeed, locked in.
“What…your name? You really do have an ego second to none.” “Only when you say it.” She tells you in a manner you haven’t heard before. It was sort of…kind? Or something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“Abigail? Or Abby?” She smiles wider. 
“I think it was part of the roof that fell.” Abbys says and your mind is still lingering on her previous comment.
“What makes you say that?” You question, taking a seat on the floor. 
“I saw crack marks on it when we entered and there wasn’t anything else around us that could be blocking the door. No shelves, no fridges, nothing.”
“If it really was part of the ceiling, we’ll never get this door open.”
“Okay, well…see if there’s another way out.” Abby instructs. 
“Always so authoritative.” You remark, and she raises an eyebrow with intrigue. 
“What was that?” She asks. 
“Forget it.” You stand up and look around.
“There’s a small window but it’s really high up, even if you boost me I wouldn’t be able to get up there.
“Fuck. I guess we’re going to have to wait for Manny to clear the rest of them, we’ve already taken out a fair few.”
“Even if Manny does take them all out, how’s he going to find us through all this debris?”
“I- you talk a lot.” Abbys says. God you could hit her. 
She sits down now too.
“You’re giving up?” You question. She shrugs.
“We’re gonna be stuck here a while, possibly for the end of our lives, might as well not waste our breath.”
“I’ve always loved your optimism.” You tease, and she looks away to hide her approaching smile. 
“Why did you join the WLFS anyway?” She questions after some time. You look over at Abby, confused.
“What happened to wanting me to shut up?”
“Fine.” She replies, grimly. You chuckle softly, taking a seat beside her. 
“My last camp was close to a large group of these brutal raiders. My group always believed in each other, thought we were all we ever needed but, it was safer to form allies. We were relocating when we discovered those seraphites you’re so fond of. When we took them out the WLFS thought we were doing them a solid or something, invited us to join the WLFS if Isaac thought us decent enough.” 
“Oh. Cool.” She says, lamely. You just smile, letting the quiet fill the room again.
“You’re not gonna ask why I joined?” Abby asked. You can’t help but laugh at this.
“Wow, you are…something else Abigail.” Abby doesn’t say anything, her cheeks becoming a light shade of pink.
“Besides, I know where you’re from. You were in a firefly group at salt lake.”
“I’m sorry, what? How did you-“
“My friend works in the apartments. The walls there are thin.”
“Oh. What…else do you know about me?”
“Practically nothing." You say, thinking a while. "I’ve seen you looking at different coins in the main hall late at night like they’re the prettiest thing you’ll ever see. Do you collect them or something?” Abby, still surprised, nods. 
“Yeah, some dumb thing my dad used to do. We collect quarters. Collected.” She corrects. You nod. 
“You got them here?” Her face warms up as she grabs her bag, pouring the pile of coins into her hand.
“This one’s from Virginia, 1788. I found these ones around the stadium, this is um, from Alaska, Mane, New Jersey and the last one I found was from Vermont.” She explains in a tone so giddy it makes you want to laugh, but you don’t, you just listen intently. 
“You think it’s stupid?”
“I think it’s adorable.” You tease, and in reality, you really did. “My friend, Chloe, collects magazines. She’s got like 500 or something crazy.”
“500?”
“Well…49, but it really does seem like a lot.” You explain, and she laughs gently. Once the laughter dies down, you wrestle with yourself internally. Should you mention it? You really shouldn’t, but what else did you have to lose?
“Abby, why are you so mean to me?” You ask. 
“I’m not mean. My pranks are funny.” Abby replies, defensively.
“Are they?” You ask, not looking at her directly. Abby hesitates. 
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“So why do you do it?”
“I like harassing you.” She says. You stand up and storm angrily to the other end of the room.
“Fine, be like that.”
“No it’s… my friends.” You don’t turn around, but you stop pacing.
“What?” You order. She sighs.
“My friends and I…only hang out with certain people, you know?”
“Wow….”
“No what, what I mean is they wouldn’t appreciate if I was friends with someone different. People would talk and I didn’t want anything to change so I decided being mean to you was the only way we could talk.”
“Abby that is fucking stupid and petty you actual dick! FUCK I could just…HIT YOU.” Abby snorts at your comment. You sigh.
“Fine, maybe I couldn’t, but I still hate you.”
“Don’t.” “Don’t what, fuckwit?” 
“Don’t…hate me. I know it’s shallow but being popular, going to parties, it’s the only fucking distraction I have. I work out or party to avoid sleeping, you know? I’m friends with heaps of people because I’m scared that if my group was small enough, they’d see through…me.” You sigh and walk back to her.
“Who knew Abby Anderson had ‘layers?’ You teased with a small smile. Abby forced a smile too, clearly feeling vulnerable. 
“Why wouldn’t they like you? The real you who doesn’t poison peoples food?”
“Oh please it was one chilli, it was good for you!” She defends, her smile becoming increasingly more genuine. You smile back.
“Cause I’m angry…and selfish.” Abby admits. You sit down beside her and put a hand on her leg.
“You just exposed yourself to a group of armed men and women with like 4 bullets in your gun to make sure I wasn’t in trouble. I wouldn’t call that selfish.”
“It was incredibly selfish.” “Why?” You ask, softly. She stands up, turning away from you. You stand up too.
“Abby…?”
“Because I let my feelings get in the way. I could have killed you, or Manny.” You feel a chill over your body and you don’t know whether it’s the temperature or her words.
“What…feelings?” You ask, and she turns around and kisses you harshly on your lips, taking you by surprise and making your hands frail around desperately in that confusion.
“I know about you too.” She says, and you’re breathing heavily, surely in some level of shock.
“I know how much you love animals, how you collect knives and are crafty. You hate spicy food, and olives, you love onions, your favourite colour is purple and you always wear a bit of colour in your hair. You can sing, you can cook, and you constantly impress others, and particularly me. You don’t particularly like reading but you can recite any line from just about any movie and I know that because at movie nights I see you mouthing the words, it’s adorable. You always have your feet up on another chair when sitting in meetings, you always double knot your shoe laces because you suck at tying them and you know what I hate about you?”
You don’t know how to respond, you can’t even think real thoughts at this point, so you just let her answer.
“I hate that you hate me because all I’ve ever wanted was to be your friend.” Abby breathes out. She shakes her head.
“That’s not true, I want to be more than that.” Your mouth is open and your wide eyed, not knowing what to say, or do.
“You were such a dick to me.” You say quietly, your eyes on the floor. Abby nods.
“Let me make it up to you?” She asks. You nod and that’s all it takes before Abby’s lips are crashing on yours again and her tongue is deep inside your mouth, tasting you like she’s been starved for a week. She puts both of her large hands on your face as she does this, moaning into the kiss as the tension from both of your bodies starts to calm. 
“Can I? I mean, do you want to?” Abby questions, and you nod with a massive smile on your face. 
✨SMUT✨
She tears your shirt off, immediately applying firm pressure on your warm skin with both hands as she explores and familiarises herself with your body. She looks at your tits and the way they sit perfectly in a light blue bra. 
“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” She exclaims before unclipping your bra and fondling your breasts. 
“So fucking sexy.” She hums, delicately rubbing your nipples between her fingers.
“mmm…What about Manny?” You ask. She shrugs.
“May his survival be long.” She says, lowering herself to the ground and your pants along with her. 
“Hmm.” She says, clearly unsatisfied with the current conditions. She stands back up and slams you against the wall, supporting your head with one of her wide hands. 
“Suck.” She says, pressing her two middle fingers to your lips. You do so without protest and enjoy the way her long fingers push further into your mouth. She removes them quickly, letting a long string of saliva soak her hand. 
She pushes them both inside you with no warning, curling the tips of her fingers and moving your clit with her thumb. 
“H….holy fuck~” You cry out. This whole situation was so unexpected. You thought you hated her but now Abbys fingers you were always thinking about were actually inside of you, and it felt fucking unreal.
“This doesn’t make us…mmm~ okay, you realise?” Abby smirks. 
“If I make you cum will you forgive me for being a dick?” You thrust slightly into her fingers, letting out a loud moan.
“You were a dick more than once.” You manage to say. She grabs you by the neck and kisses you deeply, still playing with you using her fingers.
“Challenge accepted.” She starts practically slamming her fingers inside you, watching you squirm and cry out.
“A…abby-“ “It’s okay, my girls doing good, you can take it.” 
“Hurts…” “Just a little longer for me baby.” Abby coos, not letting up her speed. She starts kissing and sucking on your neck as hard as she fucking can, tasting you, admiring you. 
“Abby…I’m…gonna….”
“You’re gonna cum already? Aw, alright, show me how good it feels.” 
“It f…mmm…”
“I said show me baby.” She says, putting in a third finger.
“MMM!” You cry and she puts her other hand in your mouth, letting you suck it eagerly again. Slowing down ever so slightly, she takes her hand out of your mouth.
“Take a deep breath for me.” Abby instructs, her face riddled with focus. You blush, your eyes struggling to stay open.
“Wh…why?” She whispers a safe word in your ear.
“You say this if its too much okay?” You nod and she forces a fourth finger inside you.
“H…holy…Abby…” 
“You’re doing so good baby.”
“I feel so full…don’t….don’t-“
“I know you can take it, look how easily my fingers can slide inside you, you can fit one more for me can’t you?”
“Mmm….mmm…hurts.”
“Say the safe word then.” You finally look at her, still blushing and she chuckles smugly. 
“You won’t will you? You want it to hurt, you want your pussy filled with me you’re just too afraid to ask. Admit it.”
“…No.” You try. God, it doesn’t even sound real to you. She just laughs.
“Try again or I’ll stop.”
“Fuck, fuck yes I like it…I like it rough, I want it to hurt just- please don’t stop.” You blurt out, wrapping your arms around her neck to support yourself. She nods and slowly eases her fist into you, making you moan. 
“Fuckkkkk, fuck Abigail….” “See? I knew you could do it.” “Fuck….mmm…you..” You stutter. She smiles.
“Fuck me yourself, coward.”  Heat swells inside your stomach and slick starts leaking down your thighs and fuck, Abbys never been more turned on in her life. She gets on her knees and licks it eagerly, sucking at your inner thighs and then your pussy.
“Tastes so good.” Abby mumbles between your thighs, moaning as she tongues between your folds.  You let out a whimper as she sucks sloppily at your cunt. 
Your hand grabs onto her hair, pulling her head in more and practically riding her face.
“Mmm, so…so…” Is all you can manage. She keeps going, using her mouth and fingers at the same time. 
“Fuck…fuck….cumming…cu-“ You cry out as you shut your eyes tightly. When Abby returns to your height, her face is glistening. You blush brightly. 
“I…um.” You say. She grabs your chin to open your mouth and kisses you passionately, moving her head around to make sure her tongue explores every angle before taking a breath. 
“You taste…fuck….” Abby says, grabbing you and pushing you onto the floor. 
“Take off your clothes.” You tell her. She smiles, smugly. 
“Where’d your manners go?”
“I thought you weren’t gonna be a dick anymore.” You huff. She smiles brightly at you. 
“Mmm, that’s right. Wait here then.” She says, walking over to her bag and taking out a black strap. It’s over 6 inches for sure, you guess 7 or 8. You’re not sure what to think.
“I guess that whole ‘I know your favourite colour’ speech was bullshit then. Do you expect to fuck all girls you take on patrol?” You ask, bitterly. She puts her large hand on your cheek, rubbing her thumb over your skin delicately. 
“You’re so precious. It’s not…for fucking. I never know how long I’m gonna be stranded somewhere so…I use it. On myself.” She explains. You can’t help but laugh.
“Shut up.” She says, hiding her own smile.
“Aw, can’t handle a patrol without your vibrator, huh? Do you get all tense?”
“Shut. Up.”
“You’re all talk, I bet no one’s ever made you cum, right? That’s why you need this pretty piece of plastic?” You question, not sure where this sudden confidence boost is coming from. Abby blushes.
“I’m gonna make you shut up soon.” She warns. You smirk.
“How many women have you been with?” You ask her. She gives you a death glare.
“Ah, so none.” 
“Shut the fuck up. I can still fuck you better than you’ll ever be fucked and that attitude will go along with your ability to walk.”
“Soo defensive.” You tease. She grabs your hands, pinning them down roughly. 
“You’re not gonna be this chatty in a second.” She says, letting go of your hands and putting the strap on. You use this break to push all your body strength onto her and start unzipping her pants.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” She laughs, pinning you back down effortlessly. You roll your eyes.
“Please will you just let me taste you…” 
“After that little display?” Abby just laughs, taking her shirt off and using it to bind your hands together tightly. 
“My fucking girl.” Abby grumbles, and it sounds almost like an order. She towers over you, grabbing onto your jaw with one hand.
“Open your mouth.” Abby orders. You consider putting up a fight, but she’s so intimidating and strong, you don’t know what she’d do. Maybe that excited you more, but you didn’t want to push your luck right now. Your mouth parts obediently and she guides almost the entire strap in your mouth, not giving a fuck whether you gag on it or not. 
“Remember who you belong to when you’re gagging on my dick, baby. I don’t take kindly to people who provoke me.” You just whimper as your saliva completely covers the strap. She doesn’t stop though, not for a few more minutes of your precious sounds. She holds your hair as you suck it and already this is one of the best things either of you had experienced. It made you forget about how hard, cold and potentially dirty the floor was. It made you in particular forget how many times Abby had acted so pathetic and childish when it turns out all she wanted was to be something for you. And even though it was still in your mind, it made the reality that Manny could be in danger seem like a distant memory.
She finally removed the strap from your mouth and forcefully pulled open your legs, thrusting into you slowly. “Mmmm….” You moan, lowly. She watches as it goes in and you can tell it made her wet too. She continues at that painfully slow pace, holding your pinned arms as she does so.
“Abby…don’t be a- oh fuck- a tease…” You say, desperately. She smirks again.
“So eager. If you can manage to be completely quiet, I’ll take my shirt off for you, okay?” She asks. You look away, nervously. This is what you had imagined whenever you passed the gym and saw her use her tank top to wipe sweat from her face. You’d see the men around her take off their shirts to work out and at that moment and that moment only, you had wished she was a man just so she could do the same. Another part of you didn’t want anyone else to see a shirtless Abby, though. Yes you would much prefer the private showing she was offering you. Fuck, you’d do anything to see it. When you’d pass her apartment and hear the shower run, your mind would go crazy. You wondered if it would live up to your fantasies.
“M’ I to take your silence as a yes, gorgeous?” You nod enthusiastically and she starts increasing her pace, then, seeing how well you handled that, her pressure as well. Fuck, that had almost got you. You loved how rough she could be with you because you knew she’d balance it perfectly. She’d never hurt you, she had proven that.
“Wow, look how good you can be.” You don’t say anything, but you would let out a desperate squeak at her praise. She thrust harder and you wanted to scream, biting your lip to stop yourself. 
“You did so good for me, baby.” She says, slowing down slightly but not stopping as she takes off her shirt. You gape at the sight of her glistening chest in a pretty, pale bra. Fuck…you’d do anything to have her tits in your mouth, to have your hands free and play with them, to treasure them like fucking artefacts. 
“Like what you see?” She asks. You whimper in response and she lets out a light chuckle. 
“Mmm, I’ll take that as a yes. You almost there, baby?”
“Fuck…yes Abby I’m close…please will you take off the binds?” And for a moment, it seemed like Abby was considering it before she thrust more aggressively and put a hand over your neck, being cautious about how tight she squeezed. 
“You’re precious.” Is how she replies, and you would hit her…if you could. 
Soon, the heat between you two was growing, leaking onto the floor and each others thighs, not knowing what liquids were what and who’s belonged to who. You were so fucking close. You wanted to grip on to Abbys hair or biceps. Maybe in some other perfect world or one where the woman fucking you wasn’t Abby Anderson. Abby could tell you were close, she could see it on your face, feel it in your body and hear it in your voice. Fuck, she was becoming more in love with you at every moment. 
“You gonna cum for me baby?”
“Fuck…fuck please…please can I?” She smiles so wide you were worried her face was gonna stretch. She loved hearing you beg, hearing you make sounds at all that only her ears would be blessed with,.
“Mhm.” Abby agrees, and with her permission you allow your eyes to roll back. Your legs shake ever so slightly as your glowing slick illuminates the strap and Abby’s thighs. Unlike how she had treated you before, she pulls out so gently, untying the strap from behind and pulling you in towards her so your body is against her.
She strokes your hair while hugging you still and you don’t know why it’s the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt, but you don’t complain.
“You listened so well baby. Made me feel real good.” Abby babbled. You look away, nervously and Abby picked up on your shift instantly. 
“What?” She asked, softly. You sigh.
“I wanted to…” Your words trail off. Abby nods understandingly. 
“Oh. You still want to do that?” She asked, and you nod your head eagerly. 
“Please Abby?” You beg. She nods again.
“Only because you were so good.” She says, untying her shirt from your hands and leaning back on her elbows.
“Go on then, take what you want.” She says with another one of her signature smirks. You practically leapt to the chance, removing her bra with the flick of one hand. You immediately start licking and sucking at her tits, leaving adorable bruises in your wake. Abby gives you a warning look and you know she won’t allow it much longer, so you quickly position your head between her thighs. Her muscular, large fucking thighs, you might add.
“Can I suck it through the boxers?” You question, looking up at Abby with doe eyes. She smiles comfortingly. 
“Sure.” She says, still not expecting to feel any real pleasure. That is until you suck at the lowest part of the fabric, making her pool in your mouth and drench her boxers. 
“I…mmph~” The unexpected and beautiful noise leaves Abbys lips, making you want to explore more of her. You lick a trail up her concealed folds all the way up to her clit which you start drawing vicious circles over. 
“F….fuck how are you- fuck….” Abby cries. She’s on the verge of orgasm already, you didn’t expect Abby of all people to be the kind of person to cum too fast, but you’re delighted to have something to tease her about later. You finally remove the boxers right before she cums and you put your tongue deep inside her. Then, you return to her clit and put your fingers inside her hole instead.
“Mmmmm.” Abby’s pornographic moan should be recorded, transformed into a vile and put straight into your lungs. And then, just like that, she’s coming, her pretty pink pussy pulsing under your tongue. 
You go back up to face her. 
“I knew no one had touched you like that.” You remarked. She rolled her eyes playfully. “Whatever.” Abby said, pulling you in for a tighter hug and kissing your cheek.
“Wanna go again?” Abby asked, only somewhat joking. That was until Manny’s voice echoed outside of the building they were stuck in.
“ABBY???” He yelled. He called your name too and you both quickly scrambled to put at least your shirts on. She boosts you up so you can see out the window. 
“We’re in here!” You call to him. He lets out a relieved breath. 
“Thank god I found you, you guys must have been so scared.” You turn over to Abby who’s watching the situation unfold with amusement. 
“Yeah.” Abby calls out as loud to be audible to Manny. “We were terrified.” 
435 notes · View notes
stayconnecteed · 7 months
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❪⠀🪐.⠀𓏔⠀types of kisses with stray kids⠀❫
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☆ㅤot8 imagine (bf!skz x reader)⠀★⠀12.5k words
warnings: (slightly spoilers) mention of overworking in bangchan's. minho's type of kiss is french kiss (it's self explanatory: suggestive), and also mentions of blood and wounds, nothing too bad, just some scratches. changbin's soft hours, insecure reader, lonely time but fluff everywhere. brief mention of hyunjin's hiatus and covid on his part. nothing to say about han and felix, just fluff. mentions of menstruation on seungmin's, and a lot of insecurities too. a little bit of drama on i.n's, he ignores the reader but it turns out well. let me know if i miss something.
( hii! have a wonderful sunday ♡ )
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chan (forehead kiss)
You had spent the whole afternoon locked up at your studio, focused on finishing the last assignment that was due before the end of the semester, avoiding the slight breaks you had promised you would made and returning immediately to collect information and write the final text. You knew the teacher was quite strict, and with your need to make sure your final score in the subject was high enough, you had spent the last days perfecting up even the last detail of the project. It wasn’t the first time you experienced this kind of situation, and since you moved with your boyfriend a few months ago he was now aware of your habits while studying, so after a lot of mistakes and excuses you managed to communicate with each other and get to a dynamic that would allow you to continue with some of your routines without Chris suffering from concern. The truth was that when you entered that state of concentration, little affected you what happened around as long as you were able to fulfill what you had proposed to do that day, and your boyfriend was worried that those habits would end up becoming hurtful for you in some way.
That particular afternoon you couldn’t help but notice Chris’ restlessness as your fingers pressed, fast, the keys of your laptop. Sometimes he had even made you crack a faint smile for his little antics, like filling your cup of coffee when he saw that there was nothing left or peeking through the door of your studio often to see how you were going. It made you feel a little guilty because you knew it was his free day and what he most wanted was to spend it with you, even it was only enjoying the company of the other cuddling in the couch. But you couldn’t allow yourself to put those moments forward when there was a project of such importance that you had to finish, no matter how much you wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend.
And you really wanted. That was your biggest motivation. It was the only reason why when all your work was finally rewarded and you downloaded the finished document, sending it to your teacher’s email, you exhaled a trembling breath and stretched on the chair, noticing how the muscles of your back relaxed after hours tensing over the laptop screen. You turned off the device and closed the studio door carefully not to make noise, deciding that you wouldn’t go back into that room for the rest of the week. You went to the living room with an euphoric smile on your lips, wishing to refuge in your boyfriend’s arms, but you stopped when you saw Chris laying down on the couch with his phone pulled over his chest, and his eyes closed, completely asleep.
You stood against the frame of the door, watching him. It was rare to be able to come across him at such moments of absolute peace and rest, since when you woke up in the morning he was already up and at night you fell asleep before him. You admired him in silence for a few minutes, letting your eyes glim over his relaxed factions, his partially open lips, and the pale freckles barely noticeable on his cheeks. You looked at the time and realized it was quite late, so you left Chris resting in the couch, slowly closed the door and went to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.
You couldn’t help but hum the last song you had heard your boyfriend work on as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboard, willing to make jjajangmyeon as quickly as possible, knowing it was one of his favorite meals. You focused on the stoves, selecting the best pieces of bacon for Chris and spliting the food into two bowls. Once placed in the bowl you got the chopsticks after searching a little in the cutlery drawer, and you put two glasses with water. You made the mental note of buying some kind of storage method to separate knives, spoons, and forks, and be able to have the damned drawer somewhat neater, and you went back to the living room sliding your socks on the floor to avoid making any noise. You opened the door carefully and smiled as you listened to Chris’s slight snoring, feeling guilty when you left the bowls on the table in front of the couch, and sat next to him, with the mission of waking him up. You took his phone, keeping it safe next to the tray, and put one of your hands on his chest, feeling the calm beats of his heart.
You laid down slightly on him, caressing his cheek, calling him with a soft voice. “Channie…,” you whispered, sliding your fingertips along his cheekbones, delineating the shapes of his face, “Baby, wake up, it’s time to eat something…”
Chris began to open his eyes lazily, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his factions contract in a gesture of confusion, just as if you just had asked him to solve a very difficult math problem.
“YN? Did I fall asleep?” He asked, sliding his arms over your back and wrapping you in a hug. You raised your caresses up to his chaotic curls and mumbled a little assent noise, letting the warm atmosphere you two where wrapped in cover you completely. You loved those moments with him. They were the perfect reward for so many hours of work. And you knew he thought the same. “What time is it? I was going to prepare something for you so that you could take a break and we have some dinner together.”
“Don’t worry, love,” you whispered back, noticing how he leaned to your touch, resting his head on your hand, and enjoying your attention, “I delivered the essay a while ago, and I have an entire week for you before I start studying the final exams. The busy afternoons have ended, at least for a few days.”
His gaze lightened, and he broke into a genuine smile that caused you to stir inside. “I’m very proud of you, baby, you are going to have a very high grade on that test.” You changed posture, straddling Chris’ hips, hugging him, and rested your cheek over his chest, taking advantage of his body heat like some kind of stove. “What do you think, should we… plan something? To celebrate? You and I on a little trip, alone, as soon as my free days coincide with your holidays?”
You raised your head, delighted. “Seriously?”
“Of course. I want to have you all for myself,” he said, suppressing a laugh, and increasing his grip on you, still with his arms around you.
You made him squirm with tickles, “I also want you all for myself, as long as we can,” you said, leaning back on his chest. “Oh, the jjajangmyeon is cooling, we should eat it now.”
Chris closed his eyes and released a sigh, smiling. “You did jjajangmyeon? After all the afternoon working? God, I don’t deserve you.”
You let out a laugh that made your chest vibrate with his, and you rested your forehead on his, “You deserve this and more, Channie. You were sleeping, it was the least I could do after ruining your free day”
“You could never ruin anything,” he protested, running his fingers through your hair almost without realizing, just because he knew it calmed you as much as it did to him. “Can we stay like this for a while?” Chris asked, waiting for your answer. As soon as he felt you nod against his chest, he let his body relax, kissing your forehead softly, and he couldn’t help but think that he wanted to stay like that forever.
minho (french kiss)
Minho was tired. It was barely nine o'clock at night, but he had had to get up early to record a song that Han had proposed him to sing at the company, and the morning kept him busy with his MC job. If he had time to eat it was because he let himself be kidnapped by Felix with the excuse that he wanted to perfect an old choreography, but with the imminent concerts he ended up rehearsing for hours steps that he knew without the necessary practice wouldn't come out as clean as he wished. When the company car dropped him off in front of your apartment, it took him a lifetime to get out and walk the few meters of sidewalk, to reach up and force the key in the lock, and even to press the button for your floor in the elevator. But he was rewarded when he opened the door and was greeted by that atmosphere he so adored and was beginning to call home: the soft sounds of something frying in the pan, light notes of your favorite perfume that he inhaled as he hung his coat next to yours, and your voice humming softly from the kitchen. He let out a sigh, managing a faint smile, and set his backpack down in the entryway, announcing that he had just arrived.
He decided to take a shower first to make some time while you finished dinner, and couldn't help but follow the rhythm of the song you were crooning, walking down the hallway to your room and choosing some of the clothes you always had ready in your closet for these occasions. If his usual residence was the dorm he shared with Felix, I.N and Seungmin, in his spare time he divided his time between his parents' home, where his cats lived, and your apartment. Even so, he was usually able to sneak away for the occasional night to sleep next to you, and enjoy your company. He always gave you advance notice, but every once in a while you woke up with your boyfriend's cheek pressed against your belly, and his arms around your waist, protesting when you pretended to get up and muttering something along the lines that he didn't have a schedule in the morning. Those days you took advantage of your comfortable work from home and decided to give up, snuggling closer to Minho, and enjoying each other for hours talking about nonsense. Then he would take over your kitchen and prepare the latest recipe that had caught his eye while you rambled on about ideas you had for your future projects, giving him back hugs from time to time and kissing his shoulder blades with the greatest delicacy in the world.
As he washed his hair he couldn't help but miss the way you stroked it when you cuddled, an activity you practiced very often because it always relaxed him when he had had a bad day. He decided to ask you to do that when, after dinner, as he knew was going to happen, you begged him to watch at least one episode of that series you had started last week. It was in English, and although he was sure you would put the audio in Korean if he asked, he was content to program the subtitles in his language while you finished the dishes. He always fell asleep anyway. It's not that he wasn't interested, but your presence soothed him inside, and he couldn't help but enter a mental space of total relaxation when he rested his head on your lap at that time of night.
When he got out of the shower, he put the towel over his head, still without the energy to pull his arms up high enough to remove the moisture from his hair, and headed to your room to get dressed with the clothes he had left on your bed. The clothes felt extremely soft and gentle against his skin, and he let out the closest thing to a purr, which made him smile with his eyes closed. His clothes smelled like you, and he understood, with a pleasant warmth settling in his chest, why you were always asking him for hoodies and t-shirts: it was like taking you with him. Not just you, but everything you represented: warmth, joy, comfort. His steps were quiet and slow as he walked towards the kitchen, still absorbed in his thoughts. In was then that he registered the smell of japchae, your signature dish, which you made when you had had a good day, even if you did it unconsciously. Minho thought it was adorable, and he didn't plan to unveil your method of celebration, because he always felt better to see you so happy, and besides he was used to cooking it himself ーhe wasn't going to complain about enjoying a meal that he didn't prepare and that also came out so delicious.
Minho collapsed into one of the comfortable, cushioned chairs you had purchased relatively recently in an attempt to redecorate your apartment. He let out a sigh and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them, with no energy to do anything but watch you dancing around the kitchen getting everything ready to serve dinner. Your boyfriend was an observant person by nature, and usually preferred to stay out of the way so he could get the full picture of any situation he was involved in. With his groupmates and loved ones he tended to loosen up more, and would bring out his bubbly, fun-loving personality. But at times like this, he was very grateful to have you in his life. With you he could spend hours laughing nonstop at a joke that wasn't even that funny, but you ended up fooling around so much that your eyes would sparkle with tears. And he would laugh with you because seeing you smile so genuinely made his heart fuzzy.
When he saw you approaching the cupboard to get the bowls, he rushed to help you, but you dropped them when you noticed the presence of someone at your back, with your pulse racing.
"MINHO!" you exclaimed, almost breathless, startled.
He was almost as surprised as you were, until he tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from your bun behind your ear and realized that all this time you had been listening to music with your airpods, oblivious to the fact that he had come home.
"How long have you been here?" you asked, after giving him a playful punch on the arm.
Minho gestured for you not to move as he went to grab a broom and move the pieces of broken porcelain away from your feet, and that's when you noticed you had a few cuts on your bare skin.
"Enough time to give me a good shower" he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, finding your clumsiness adorable. You both stood in silence, him picking up the mess you'd left on the floor, and you disconnecting your airpods. Once you saw that he had finished, you tried to grab another two bowls to divide the japchae you had left on the unlit stoves, but Minho took you in his arms, ignoring the silent protests of his exhausted muscles, and carried you over his shoulder, letting out a stifled chuckle at your surprised yelp. "I'll take care of the rest of dinner," he announced, ignoring your demands to let you be. Once he had gently set you down on the couch, you frowned at him in an adorable attempt to look angry.
"You know I didn't drop the bowls on purpose, don't you?" you told him, slipping irony into your words. "I think I'll be able to dish up the food."
"I don't think so," he replied, a satisfied smile plastered on his lips, "you're hurt."
Your frown deepened as you looked down at your feet and realized that as the bowls smashed against the floor, some pieces had scratched your skin, and you now had fine bloody lines on your skin. There weren't many, and you knew they wouldn't sting if you let them heal, but it was also clear to you that Minho and his eternal concern for you weren't going to let you get away with it. So you just sighed as he got up to get the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom.
He handled you carefully on his return, leaving a clean towel, the band-aids and a bottle of water on the side table, and resting your legs in his lap. His touch was gentle as he stroked your feet to check how much pain you were feeling, and although you had assumed the scratches were nothing, you did gasp when he put pressure on them. You rested your head on his shoulder and clung to his arm as he cleaned the cuts, and you closed your eyes tightly, hissing. Once he had placed a couple of band-aids over the deeper wounds, he stroked your cheek.
"Did you cry?"
"Oh, hush."
Minho managed an almost imperceptible smile, and moved his shoulder just enough for you to pull away from him.
"Not a word." you warned him.
"I don't know what you're talking about" he replied, looking away, "I was just going to tell you what happened today at dance practice..."
You nodded, as he spoke, both of you leaning back on the couch, and let his voice wash over you. You obviously had a good time when he talked to you about what he had done in his day, especially since most of the time you didn't even have time to eat together, so you took full advantage of the dinners, and the cuddle sessions in front of the TV, and the conversations you had snuggled under the covers. But there were times when you would delight in just looking at him. Watching his eyes sparkle as he talked about those boys who meant so much to him, and the new choreographies he planned for the songs composed by 3racha, or the videos his mother sent him of his cats. And not only that, but to have the freedom to look at him, openly, and absorb all the details of his face, which seemed so beautiful to you.
Without warning, you rested one of your hands on his cheek and brought his face to you, connecting your lips in a kiss. Minho let out a surprised squeak, but immediately followed through, moving his mouth along with yours, letting his hand wander from your legs over his lap to your hip. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't stop you from enjoying each other's warmth, in a slow, soft make-out session. You felt yourself melt against him as he gave your lower lip a little nibble which made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to make the kiss messier by slipping his tongue in, letting it dance next to yours, swirling around to the rhythm of your panting breaths. And just when you thought you'd run out of air, Minho pulled away from you just a few inches, gazing adoringly at you.
"What was that?" he asked, still stunned by your sudden actions.
"I don't know, I just wanted to kiss you" you told him, nuzzling back into his chest. He felt his ears turn slightly red, and was thankful you couldn't see it. "I love you, Min. Keep telling me what Hyunjin did next" you asked him. And of course, he was never able to deny you anything, so he continued with the anecdote, a lovesick smile plastered on his face.
changbin (hand kiss)
You had never been a morning person. If you had to get up early it was because of your job, and you could only face the day after a good cup of coffee circulating through your system. And on weekends you didn't get up until almost lunchtime, taking advantage of every last bit of rest you could get in bed. But that aversion to mornings changed when, after more than half a year of relationship, your boyfriend asked you to move in with him. Since then, just the thought of knowing that as soon as you opened your eyes you would be able to enjoy Changbin's beautiful features, every day was a day you started in a good mood.
That didn't stop the nights from being bad. That Friday in particular you had not been able to join the get-together that your friends had organized at that new club where they happened to play your favorite songs, and not only were you angry with your boss for having you working until late in overtime that you were not going to get paid for, but also your boyfriend was going to get home very late because he had a very busy recording schedule that night. So everything seemed to get worse when, after being the last one at the office to close, you missed the bus. And then you had to endure the fifteen-minute subway ride in rush hour, surrounded by people until anxiety made you get off at a stop that wasn't even yours. Walking back to your apartment calmed you down a bit, but your boots were killing your feet and you couldn't wait to get home to take them off.
Lucky you have an elevator, you think. And you let your tote bag slide down your shoulder until it drops to the floor, hurrying to slide the zippers of your new platform boots and let out a sigh of relief when you stop feeling the pressure on your heels. For sure Changbin is going to tease you for not listening to him when he told you to wear them around the home a bit to get your foot used to them, and also because he got mad at you (jokingly, of course) for buying footwear that made you taller than him. But he's not going to be around to greet you when you get home, so you pick up your boots and tote bag from the floor once the elevator reaches your floor, and you manage to get inside your home, leaning your back against the closed door and letting yourself drop to the floor, massaging your feet with your eyes closed.
You knew you were on the verge of a breakdown. You hated being alone in general, but after a day like the one you'd had, all you needed was a hug and words of reassurance, someone to tell you that everything was okay, and that even if it wasn't, you'd eventually get to that point. But the apartment was dark, and you felt an void in your chest. You had left the mental breakdowns phase when your college days were over, but every once in a while you would have those moments when you would start crying about the situation that made you explode and end up sobbing, almost unable to breathe, for everything you blamed yourself for in your life, and for every flaw that your mirror reflected. And it usually happened when you were alone.
You considered joining your friends, who must have been drunk by now, but even that made you too lazy. So you remembered what Changbin had recommended you to do when he first saw you this bad, and you prepared a bath. You poured in your favorite salts and dived in as deep as you wanted, knowing that you were in no hurry. When you got out you were more relaxed, and after doing your skincare and drying your hair well, you sought shelter under the covers of your shared bed. You soaked in the warmth and softness, and cried as you wished you could live in that moment forever, with no sunrises, no responsibilities, no negative thoughts about yourself. Just you, with a calm mind, those sheets that still smelled of Changbin, and the chance to start from scratch again and again.
But, like every new day, morning came, although this time as soon as you woke up you wanted to go back to sleep. You felt like your head was going to explode, and the crack of light coming through the blinds bothered you to no end. You sighed, knowing that hiding under the sheets was not going to do any good, and you made the attempt to get up, oblivious to the person sleeping next to you. As soon as you sat up, you saw yourself falling back onto the bed, and you let out an involuntary laugh. Changbin had you trapped in his arms and, even in your sleep, he kept you close to him, as if he was afraid that you would leave him at any moment.
You let him be, completely forgetting the light and your headache, and turned to face him, appreciating the delicacy of his skin, and how good it felt in contact with yours. You buried your face in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, enjoying the moment, knowing that you were feeding off these instants to survive when you were at your worst. You heard Changbin clearing his throat, probably with a slightly tired voice from the previous night's schedule, and waited for him to say something.
"Good morning, princess.”
You closed your eyes as you listened to his husky tone, and noticed how he loosened his arms around you a little when he realized how tightly he was holding you.
"Good morning, handsome," you said to him, your lips brushing against his collarbone while you spoke. "Were you very late last night?"
"I think it was like two in the morning or something," he answered you, still without opening his eyes.
"I got off work at midnight" you told him, shifting your posture slightly, resting your head on your hand so you could watch him.
"If you take a picture it lasts longer" he warned you, before opening his eyes and cracking a grin that made your heart skip a beat.
"You know that if you tell me I'll do it."
"I'm not willing to let you go get the phone, you're better off here."
And silence fell between you again. You had never felt as at peace as you did whenever you had Changbin around. And you knew he felt the same way you did, because he never tired of telling you that every time you doubted you were worthy of someone's love. Or whenever he got the chance, in general. You were perfectly capable of spending the whole morning like that, entangled in your bed, taking advantage of the quietness that you had on Saturdays when he had nothing to do. The rest of the week was chaos, with your endless hours of work and his practices and hours locked in the studio with Bangchan and Han. You had an even harder time in the weeks leading up to the comebacks, and remembering that just made you replay the night before on your head, and how you had felt when you got home.
"You're frowning," your boyfriend commented to you. "Do you want to talk about yesterday?"
You opened your eyes, surprised. Changbin had been tracing your features with his gaze.
"Y-yesterday?"
"When I came back, I noticed you'd used the bathtub and forgot to tidy up the bathroom. That only happens when you're in a sad mood. And your eyes are puffy."
Instead of letting shame eat you away, you felt your heart swell at your boyfriend's words. You weren't going to let your stupid intrusive thoughts spoil such a nice thing as the moment Changbin had just had with you: he knew you well enough to notice such things, he loved you, and he chose to stick with you every day because of it. Still, you felt guilty for not cleaning the bathroom, so you whispered a weak "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize for anything, my love," he told you, "you know I love doing things for you. If it were up to me, my baby wouldn't lift a finger, especially if you have me to do it for you."
You let him hold you again, resting your head on his chest, and sighed.
"Are you okay?"
You took his hand and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of it before laying it back on your belly, and replied, looking up at him with a smile and eyes sparkling with love:
"Now I am."
hyune (flying kiss)
Your mother used to talk about how much you and Hyunjin fooled around when you were little. If someone had to tell an anecdote in which either of you were involved, it was certain that at least 70% of them would mention the other. You were two sides of the same coin, and you didn't know a world where the other wasn't at least a phone call away. When he had a hard time, you had a hard time; and when you cried, he cried with you. You had been together from the beginning, and many times you had sworn to be together until the end. And that's why nobody could explain why it had taken you so long to realize how much in love you were.
You had lived through the whole process of Hyunjin becoming an idol, and he had been by your side even when his busy schedule didn't allow him just so he could comfort you when your father passed away, and when that boy had broken your heart in high school. The members of Stray Kids had learned early on to love you as one of their own, and they still remembered how Hyunjin had threatened to never speak to them again if they were unkind to you or hurt you in any way. You were extremely protective of the other one, and if people gave you a choice between anyone and each other, you were very clear that you would choose each other a thousand times over. You had been the one who had spent a month's salary on blank canvases and the most varied set of brushes and colors possible when Hyunjin had developed an interest in art, and he had been the one who had gotten VIP tickets as soon as your favorite singer had announced concert dates in Seoul.
And as obsessed as you were with each other, it had taken you years and the passage of covid through your lives to realize how much the absence of each other in your lives was hurting you. You had called him one day in the a.m. when he was practicing a dance for the Korean program his group was going to perform in, and you had confessed how in love you were with him. And he had laughed, understanding the idiots you had been, and reciprocated your feelings after running out of the company to your apartment. That night you kissed for the first time, and cuddled together in your bed, feeling complete, because you had finally understood what was missing.
After that night, Hyunjin practically lived at your dorm. When the bullying scandal was announced, he spent part of his hiatus with you and part with his parents. And you took a leave of absence from your job for the first few weeks so that he wouldn't be left alone even once. Every time you had the house to yourself and noticed the changes he had made in your absence, you smiled at the new mural on the living room wall, or the boxes the delivery man had left in the entryway that were probably decorations for your room or matching clothes, even though you had insisted you would rather steal his than dress the same. Your relationship didn't change at all since the confession. You still laughed the same, cried the same and argued the same.
That morning, like most mornings, you had struggled to wake him up. You had stayed up late the night before, finishing preparations for a presentation you were going to be giving at work, and you were very nervous. Hyunjin had insisted on staying with you, changing playlists when the songs didn't convince him and working on a track Bangchan had sent him to write lyrics to. You knew the next morning was going to be difficult, but you didn't mind because his mere presence relaxed you and helped you concentrate on the Power Point. Right now his presence (or rather, his absence) was getting on your nerves, because you were making breakfast and there was no sign of your boyfriend. You were both running late.
"HYUNJIN!" you exclaimed, pouring coffee into two cups.
Then he decided to come into the kitchen, still half asleep, and in his pajamas. When he leaned down to kiss you good morning, you refused.
"What's wrong?"
"I warned you twenty minutes ago," you told him, finishing your toast and wrapping his, because you knew he wasn't going to have time to eat it at home. "Now you're not going to have time to do anything but to get dressed, we were supposed to be out the door five minutes ago!"
"Honey, I told you, the boys already know I'm late, so you don't..."
"I know that, baby," you replied, interrupting him in the same tone but in an ironic way, with your index finger under his chin so he could see the way you were looking at him, "but I don't know if you remember that you asked me to drive you today specifically and that I have a presentation first thing in the morning."
"Oh, shit."
"Yep, oh, shit."
You repressed a smile as you watched him rush out of the kitchen to grab the first sporty outfit he saw in your closet and you picked up his thermos to pour his coffee in there and clean the mug you'd just used. You left his breakfast ready on the table once you drank your coffee, and ran to put your laptop in your bag, checking that you had everything ready. He was still locked in the bathroom for quite a while and by the time you left the house, you had already called one of your coworkers ーwho happened to also be one of your best friendsー to get you a few minutes if anyone was asking for you.
You opened the front door and almost missed Hyunjin running ahead of you, hurrying down the stairs two at a time towards the garage. You sighed, grabbing the breakfast you had prepared for him knowing he would forget, and went down after him, trying to match the speed of his very long legs. You put the car in motion in record time and drove through the streets of Seoul, respecting the safety limits, looking at the clock every time a red light stopped your race, until you arrived in front of the company where Hyunjin worked and quickly pulled into the parking lot. Your boyfriend opened the car door while it was still in gear and jumped out, breakfast in one hand and his bag in the other.
"Thanks for breakfast! I love you!" he exclaimed, walking away from the car.
"Baby! What about my goodbye kiss?"
Hyunjin's eyes formed two crescent moons as he smiled, and he slung his bag at full speed, to leave his hand free so he could blow a kiss at you. You pretended to catch it before leaving the parking lot, stuffing it in the pocket your blazer had on your chest and shouting "I love you too!" back.
Years later, your mother would still confirm to anyone who asked that you and Hyunjin were chaos whenever you were together, but since you were two dorks in love, nobody cared.
han (neck kiss)
You had told Han that you were going to be late, and not to wait up for you, although you knew he wouldn't listen. That night was a night of celebration, and even though you had to work the next day, it was worth it. Your best friend had gotten an amazing job offer in the USA a few years ago and since she had moved there, you saw her a lot less than you would like to. You had made some of your vacation days coincide with your boyfriend's American tour and the two of you had gone together to his band's concert after spending the whole day visiting the city. She had shown you her favorite places, and also those places she knew you would love.
This time she had traveled all the way to Seoul, the first time you had seen each other since her promotion had been announced, and although it was a business trip, she had set aside an entire afternoon for you. The plan was simple, and quite improvised. First you had eaten together at a very good restaurant that Changbin had recommended, and then you caught up at a coffee shop near your work that you frequented on your breaks. It was a very special place for you because you had worked there for a couple of years while studying at the university, and it was also where you had met Jisung.
You told your friend how he had walked in with Hyunjin and Seungmin and hadn't opened his mouth not even once while they were placing orders. At that time they had debuted less than a year ago, and you were more of a fan of girl kpop groups anyway, so you had no idea who they were. As you were heading towards their table with the three coffees, you heard how Jisung and Hyunjin were arguing, though you didn't know what about. What you didn't expect was that Jisung would suddenly get up at the same moment you picked up his cup and set it down in front of him. Two seconds later you both had your shirts soaked in coffee, the tray was on the floor and there was a mess of shattered glass at your feet, while he was apologizing. You heard Hyunjin say something along the lines of "Since you spilled coffee on her you could finally ask for her number, you have nothing left to lose", and Jisung turned to give him a murderous glare before apologizing one last time and practically running away. Seungmin went after him after letting out a tired sigh, and left it to Hyunjin to pay for the damage.
You remembered the conversation perfectly. The idol had followed you around the establishment asking you how much the broken glasses were worth while you were looking for what you needed to clean up the mess. You had made a dismissive gesture with your hand and told him that it was okay, that it was your fault. However, when he gave you the same order but for takeaway, you couldn't help but ask which of the three was for Jisung. Instead of putting his name on the cup, as you had done with the other two, you managed to write 'for the cute guy I spilled coffee on. next one's on me' and your number. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled when he saw it and asked you if you wanted him to record his reaction to reading it, because you were going to make his day. You let out a laugh, and six dates later you were together.
After a couple of treats at the mall and a cab ride full of laughter, it was time to say goodbye to your friend. You looked at the time on your phone as you walked up the stairs and smiled when you realized that your boyfriend had sent you a couple of messages throughout the afternoon asking how everything was going. You opened the door as slowly as possible to avoid making noise in case he was already sleeping. You left your bag and coat in the hall closet, halfway ditching your shoes and leaving the bags on the kitchen table. On your way to the living room, you saw the TV still on with the words "game over" flashing on the screen and Jisung slumped on the couch with the console controller on his chest. As usual, he had insisted on waiting up for you. And as usual, he had fallen completely asleep.
You turned off the TV and approached him, running your fingers through his hair, combing his bangs in soft caresses, enjoying seeing his features so relaxed, and the little pout on his lips that filled you with tenderness. You decided to continue with your nightly routine when you noticed that he was already in his pajamas, so he wouldn't have to fully wake up on the way from the couch to the bed.
You stepped into the shower to relax after such a busy day and smiled with your eyes closed as you felt the warm water running down your back. You didn't usually take long in the bathroom unless you had to wash your hair, but shopping always made you very tired and even though the company was to your liking, as you left the mall you couldn't wait to get home to curl up in your boyfriend's arms and rest.
Within two minutes of getting out of the shower, as you were taking out your skincare products, wrapped in a towel and with a few droplets of water still on your shoulders, the bathroom door opened and Jisung appeared with narrowed eyes. Without a word he stood behind you as you watched him through the mirror and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you in a back hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"Hey, baby" you called to him, your voice soft.
He nodded his head slightly, not fully awakening, but giving you to understand that he was listening to you.
"How about you wait for me in bed? I'll be done in a minute."
You felt him deny as you began to apply the products to your face, and paused when you heard an unintelligible mumbling.
"What was that, bubs? I didn't hear right" you asked him.
"I missed you today" he repeated, opening his eyes slightly and making eye contact with you through the mirror. "How did it go?"
"I missed you a lot too" you replied, your hands busy with creams and toners as you spoke. "We were talking about you, actually. We went to the coffee shop where I worked" You cracked a smile as you watched his cheeks turn a reddish shade, knowing what you were going to say next, "Do you remember the day we met?"
You heard a noise of protest while you washed your hands and how he tightened his grip on your waist, reluctant to let you go now that you had brought up a memory he considered as shameful as it was lovely.
"I almost killed Hyunjin that day," he whispered, voice somewhat hoarse from having been asleep. "Until Changbin told me to calm down and I read what the coffee cup said, I swear it nearly killed him for exposing myself like that in front of you." You put both hands over your boyfriend's on your belly and smiled when he continued with the sentence he always said, "Luckily the pretty girl at the coffee shop found me cute enough to date me."
"And here we are" you told him, closing your eyes at his warmth and the touch of his lips against your neck, as light as a feather, in an affectionate gesture that was part of your softer moments.
"And here we are" he repeated, uttering it so close to your throat that it felt like an echo of your own words. And I wouldn't trade it for the world, you thought as he guided you to your bed to snuggle together and sleep entangled, just like every night.
felix (nose rub/kiss)
That night you had gone to bed a little late. Not that it had been a special day or anything like that, but when you had entered the lobby of the company your boyfriend worked for with the intention of finishing a couple of documents while you were waiting for him, Minho was leaning against one of the walls with his phone. As soon as he looked up from the screen, he approached you with a smile and the intention of asking you how you had been. Of all Felix's group members, Minho was probably the one you got along with the best. At the beginning of your relationship with your boyfriend, when you had only gone on three or four dates, he had been the first Stray Kids member you had met. After spending the afternoon together, you had accompanied Felix to his apartment and Minho had caught you making out in front of the door. Instead of embarrassing Felix or giving you a hard time, he had smiled and invited you in to enjoy some pudding while you introduced yourself.
Hyunjin had always protested and defended that if Minho had adopted you as his protégée was because it was clear that Felix was very much in love with you, and because you shared with your boyfriend the sunshine privileges he had with the whole group. It wasn't until much later that you discovered, thanks to a Twitter thread, that the fact that Minho had shared a pudding with you meant that you were very important to him. And since you didn't understand why, as you barely knew each other, the next day you bought a box of puddings of the same brand he had given you and asked Felix to give it to him on your behalf. Of course, that gesture only enhanced Minho's image of you. Since then you had developed a beautiful friendship of which both you and your boyfriend were very proud.
But due to your work, you had been a couple of weeks with no signs of life. When you arrived, Felix was sleeping, and when you left, it was still some time left until his alarm would buzz. That weekend the chaos was over, and you wanted to make the most of every second by his side. That's why you had gone to pick him up from work unannounced. And that's why Minho was complaining to you that you had abandoned him. By the time Felix showed up, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken in the gym, you had already given Minho a summary of the last few weeks and he had told you how things were going and how his cats were doing. The older idol slyly pulled away when he watched Felix's eyes light up as he registered your presence and ran up to you to wrap you in a hug and shower your face with kisses.
"Hi, YN" greeted Chris behind the little ray of sunshine you held in your arms, "Long time no see."
You returned the smile he had graced you with, although without dimples, and replied "Work held me kind of hostage."
That made the leader let out a laugh, and squeezed your arm affectionately.
"Want to go to dinner? My treat?"
Felix asked you with a look, fearing that you would accept out of good nature, even if you didn't feel like it, but you stroked the back of his neck to reassure him.
"No problem" you said, smiling. "I'd appreciate a good distraction right now."
"Are we expecting someone else, hyung?" asked Felix, intertwining your hand with his.
"I think I.N mentioned he would be joining later, but the rest of the boys are in our dorm."
The walk to the restaurant was loud and lively, like every time Felix was involved in something, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere around you. You knew you were a little quiet, and that it wasn't very like you, but you also knew that your boyfriend had commented on how exhausted you were, so you hoped you weren't worrying anyone. The autumn weather was making you sensitive, that was all. Seeing how the light was darker than usual, the trees slowly becoming naked, and the noise the leaves made under your feet when you stepped on them. You loved how cold your face became after a simple walk, compared to the warmth of your body under the layers of coats you had put on it before leaving home. And most of all you loved the mischievous smile Felix would put on when he would take your hand unexpectedly and put it in his coat pocket, trying to give you some heat, just like he was doing at that moment.
He made a surprised face when you made eye contact with him and you let out a soft laugh, clinging to him and whispering an innocent "I love you" in his ear.
The place Chris had led you to was quiet but cozy, and you got the feeling that the owners already knew the boys. Minho was the one who was in charge of choosing what you were going to have for dinner, and between bottles of soju and water, and delicious pieces of grilled meat you enjoyed a time full of laughter and anecdotes. You asked Chris to send you the location of the restaurant later, planning to meet up with your friends sometime in the following week, and decided to wait a bit until I.N. arrived, who entered in a hurry and almost out of breath. Dinner was fun, as it always was when you spent time with Stray Kids, and you were even sad to say goodbye when Felix realized what time it was and announced that he wanted to have you all to himself for the rest of the night.
You left the place still with your fingers intertwined, and decided to walk back to your apartment. There was a light breeze blowing that blew your hair all over, and you laughed when you saw that the same thing had happened to Felix. You tried to comb his hair a little with your free hand, but it was a bit difficult because you were wearing gloves. It didn't matter anyway, because the moment you managed to get the strands out of his face, the wind would undo your work. It was when it started to rain that you started to run like teenagers, while passers-by took the opportunity to find shelter in nearby places. When you got home you were soaked, and you shivered up the stairs. You ran to get blankets and towels, discarding your coats and clothes until you were in your underwear, and when you made sure you both had dry hair, you huddled on the couch under as many blankets as you had, trying to get warm.
With Felix you never needed to have big conversations, although there had been nights when you had gone to sleep in the middle of the night because you had started to ramble on about whatever topic either of you had proposed. It wasn't the first time your boyfriend had said that for him actions were more important than words, so you spent as much time as possible showing him through actions how much you loved him and how much he deserved that love. You knew he didn't expect the night to end this way, and that he thanked you for it.
"Thank you for being the way you are, Lixie" you murmured, sitting up slightly in his arms so you could watch his face.
"Thank you for always being there for me" he replied, looking up at you with a whole universe of stars compressed in his beautiful eyes.
"Rough day?"
"It got better as soon as I saw you together with Minho hyung."
You both smiled, bringing your foreheads together and gently rubbing each other's nose against the other's in a comforting way. This was, without a doubt, your favorite part of any of the four seasons.
seungmin (cheek kiss)
You'd been staying at your boyfriend's dorm for a couple of days, living with him and his three other group members. While they went to work, you were trying to catch up on your college notes from the comfort of the couch, still feeling too sick to attend class and with a stabbing pain in your belly every time the paracetamol stopped working, clear consequences of having missed the bus on a rainy day, walking home soaking wet, and the effects of your period.
Seungmin's manager had advised him not to get too close to you while you were ill, but he, far from listening to him, had simply asked his members if they cared, and upon their refusal had invited you to spend a few days with him in order to observe how your cold was progressing, making sure how you were feeling every second of the day and taking care of you as you deserved. And you, feeling so lonely in your apartment, had not hesitated to pack the essentials in a backpack and ask your brother to take you there.
That afternoon, however, you were alone in the dorm, as usual. Your nerves were eating you alive because a friend of yours had told you that one of your professors was going to upload, through your university's application, the results of your last exam. You had spent weeks preparing for that test, and for the activity that had to be presented on the day of the exam, and your boyfriend had helped you with both. You wanted to get a very good grade to make Seungmin proud of your effort and his own.
But when you opened the message, and saw that you had failed with one of the lowest grades in the class, you froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. "The teacher must have made a mistake with another student," you said, out loud, still in disbelief, "It's not possible that all that... I can't have gotten this after all the effort we put in." But after emailing your professor, his response was, if anything, even more hopeless. He told you that he too was surprised by your result, and that he was very disappointed with how you had evolved in the subject.
You threw your phone across the couch and burst into tears, your heart compressed, feeling that nothing you were doing was enough, that it was useless. Eventually the sobs stopped, though you continued to hide under the covers, staring blankly and breathing heavily. And that's how Felix found you when he came home, tired, at six o'clock in the evening, with a shopping bag in each hand, his backpack and an eternal smile on his lips that vanished when he entered the living room and saw that you didn't give it back to him.
As he noticed your figure curled up on the couch and how you were, surrounded by blankets, with teary eyes and remnants of tears on your cheeks, he didn't hesitate to drop everything on the floor and sit next to you, hugging you.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked you, stroking your back comfortingly.
"A bad grade," you explained, between sobs, trying to steady your voice, "Where is everyone?"
"You mean Seungmin, I suppose," he said, and your shy apologetic smile made him continue, "Today he was supposed to record the cover he was preparing, I think he's going to be late."
You stood silently, staring at nothing for a moment, and then wiped away your tears, faking a minimally cheerful face to downplay the situation, and sitting up on the couch, putting the blanket aside.
"It's okay, work is work," you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "Do you want me to help you with those bags, what did you buy?"
Felix's eyes lit up again, still slightly reluctant to move you away from your corner on the couch, but he flashed a smile and told you the latest story that happened between Changbin and Hyunjin, guiding you to the kitchen. You helped him place everything he had bought at the supermarket while he made sure that, for a few minutes, you forgot what had made you so sad. He suggested making brownies to take to practice the next day, and just as he was preparing the ingredients on the counter, you offered to play one of your Spotify playlists. You ended up jokingly discussing some of the songs, and decided to make a playlist from scratch just for when he went into baking mode. He even managed to make you laugh.
And then I.N. and Minho arrived, and while the latter prepared dinner, the former monopolized Felix's attention with questions about the last videogame they had played together with your boyfriend. So you ended up sitting back on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, rocking as you listened to the youngsters chatting and laughing, with Minho occasionally joining the conversation. And you kept wondering what exactly you were doing there. Living momentarily with those wonderful boys who didn't deserve to have you invading their space, who came home exhausted and didn't need to take care of you if Seungmin wasn't around. They weren't supposed to have that responsibility. God, even Seungmin shouldn't have proposed you to spend a few days with them. You were just acting like a parasite in their house, and they didn't deserve it. When was the last time you paid for something? You were not contributing at all.
With your eyes misty with tears you got up in a hurry, grabbed the keys to your own apartment, where you should have stayed from the beginning, and left. You went downstairs as fast as you could, putting as much distance as you could between you and the dorm, between you and the guys. You had nowhere to go either, really. You didn't feel like going back to your apartment yet, your friends were studying for their last exams, like you should be doing, and you had left your phone on the couch, with your laptop and your notes. God, you hadn't even been able to do that right. You were sure Minho would hate you when he walked into the living room and saw that everything was dirty and full of your stuff. As lucky as you were, you had probably even forgot to throw away the tissues you had used to fight your cold.
You began to wander around the city, regretting not having thought things through before running away, because the temperature had begun to drop with the arrival of night, and you were only wearing your sweatpants and Seungmin's hoddie over them. The painkiller was wearing off, intensifying your abdominal pain, and to top it off, you were really hungry. You ended up accepting the fact that it would be better to go home now. You needed to feed yourself, take a warm shower and get into bed, because after wandering the streets of Seoul, your cold would probably have gotten worse. You got up from the swing where you had decided to stop to rest for a while, and left the park, trying to find the street you were on and the quickest way home.
You felt your hands deathly cold against the fabric of your hoodie, and even colder against the metal of your keys, as you tried to open the door. Each step was an effort, and after you struggled with the lock, you were almost out of breath. Still, as you closed the door you leaned against it and sighed, feeling the weight of your decisions on your shoulders.
"YN?" you heard from the living room.
You frowned as you recognized the voice and hurried to the living room, bumping into your boyfriend halfway.
"Seungmin? What are you doing here?"
He grabbed your arms to steady you both and frowned.
"Why aren't you at home? Felix texted me super worried because when he arrived you were crying on the couch but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone and I finished the recording as soon as possible to..."
"That's not my home" you whispered, unable to hold his gaze.
"What?"
"That's not my home, Seungmin" you repeated, somewhat louder, and sniffled.
"Sure it is" he replied, running his gaze over your features.
"No" you mumbled, whimpering again, noticing how a shiver ran down your back.
"Hey, hey, come on, love, of course it's your home" he told you, softening his voice. "I live there, and you're more than welcome to come over anytime. The boys love you, you know that. And my room and the living room is full of your stuff!"
"That's the problem!"
You let out a sob, and rested your head on his shoulder, unable to continue sharing your thoughts. You felt Seungmin wrap his arms around you, and you took refuge in them, absorbing his warmth.
“Listen, love, we'd better talk about it after a shower, okay? You're burning up, and I'm sure you're hungry."
You nodded, still not looking at him, and let him guide you. Your boyfriend let you curl up under a blanket on the couch while he prepared the bathtub for you. Then he helped you up, carrying you to the bathroom and taking off your clothes. And you trusted him your safety, eyes closed, until you felt your body being submerged in warm water. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling better, and listened as he opened the shampoo bottle, then immediately felt his long fingers massaging your scalp.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he began, his voice like a lullaby, "because I know it's hard to express certain things. But I think I know how you feel, and let me tell you one thing: you don't bother them, you don't bother us. Just because the boys and I trust each other so much or fit in so well doesn't mean that we don't need you, that we don't miss you when you're not around. Especially me, love. You are my favorite person. I would give everything for you, and that's why if I have a choice, when you are unwell, and even when you are well, I like to come home and see you there. You always greet me with a smile, and you automatically make my day. If you really don't want to be there because you feel uncomfortable, I'll help you bring your things here tomorrow. But if it's because you feel you don't fit in, or because you think you're a burden, believe me we don't see it that way at all. Felix knows you only do playlists with him, every time you ask him for music recommendations, he gets very excited. Minho loves to feed you because he loves the constructive criticism you give him. And he is very grateful when you offer to clean the kitchen for him, because he is very tired lately. And Jeongin trusts very few people to take good photos of him. He almost always posts the ones you take of him. You are important, YN. And you are loved. I love you. You can't imagine how much."
"I love you too" you managed to say, between sobs. At that point, the shampoo was long forgotten, and there was only record of the silence that enveloped you as you both looked into each other's eyes: he with the intensity of the one who intends to communicate with his gaze that which resides in his soul, you with the tears that show that you have opened your heart to his every word, and let them envelop you completely. "Thank you."
Seungmin sighs, sketching a smile of relief, now that he knows you are already feeling somewhat better, and strokes your cheek with his soapy hand. You close your eyes against his velvety, slippery touch, and feel his lips brush your other cheek, in a kiss as light as a butterfly.
i.n (peck)
It was odd for both of you to argue, or be mad at each other. He was in the stressful period of preparation before a comeback, with enough time to just breathe, and he had found space for you in his last free afternoon, discarding the idea of taking a break to be with you. And as a matter of destiny, just as you were about to sit down on the couch in your apartment to watch your Friday movie, enjoying each other's company, your mother called you.
The thing is, your sister was getting married. The ceremony was coming up soon, and you had confirmed your attendance, of course, but you only said you were bringing a friend –a male friend–, and your mother was curious about whether that boy was a posible boyfriend or not. The problem was that your parents didn't know you had a boyfriend, and you weren’t sure if you wanted them to. You hadn't found the right time to say anything about it, and you didn't have a great relationship with your parents anyway, so it wasn't something you had the need to tell. But obviously you wanted Jeongin to accompany you in such a nice and special moment, so when your mother asked you about who you were going to bring, you simply replied "Mm, all you have to know is that my friend’s name is Jeongin."
You didn't think much of it –not that you knew he was listening, since you had gone back to the kitchen to chat with your mother while he went to the living room– but since then, the maknae's smile faded and he adopted a somewhat absent demeanor for the rest of the evening. You didn't notice it because neither of you were big fans of skinship and you were curled up on one end of the couch under a blanket. He had crossed his arms at the other end, but due to the movie you both were watching was so interesting your eyes were fixed on the screen, absorbing every possible detail in an attempt to try to unravel the ending of the thriller before the story itself revealed it. You bent down often to pick up some candies that you and Jeongin had left on the table after dinner, and when you offered one to your boyfriend and he completely ignored you, you stared at him with a confused look on your face.
"Baby," you murmured, moving slightly closer to him, still holding the small package of Korean sweets, running your gaze over his features, "would you like one of these?"
Jeongin remained silent, eyes focused on the plot unfolding in front of you, and you frowned as you realized that it hadn't been a mistake, it wasn't that he hadn't listened to you, but that he was completely ignoring you. You decided to play for a while longer, just to assess how serious the situation was, and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You swung your legs up, placing them in his lap, and then rested your head on his shoulder, pulling the plastic off the candy and eating it noisily. Suddenly you had lost all interest in the movie. You'd have time to watch it again, some other time. After a few minutes you gave him a sideye glance, but he seemed really focused on refusing any kind of interaction with you.
You sighed, making a ball with the candy wrapper and tried to throw it on the table. Of course, you failed. You decided to change tactics, and posture, and rested all the weight of your body on his legs, trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him, but managing to accommodate yourself in such a way that you ended up practically on his lap, with your head resting on his arms. You couldn't deny that it would have been more convenient for you if your boyfriend didn't have his arms crossed, but he seemed to be aware of this fact as well, and tensed them on purpose.
In this silent war, which you had every intention of winning, you had an enemy of great strength. You had tried rolling over him, making noise while eating and making noise with the candy wrappers (so much so that you even felt reluctant to eat candy in the near future because you had had enough of it), you had gotten up, walked past the TV, gone to your room to change into something more provocative and even tried watching tiktoks at full volume. Nothing was working: the only sign of life on I.N's part was his blinking and the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You were beginning to get impatient, and to take it more personally. What was it that you had done that had offended him so much?
"Love" you tried, breaking the silence.
There was no response.
"Jeongin?" you called out to him, resting your hand on his arm, and moving it.
He remained hermetic, and your patience, which had been running out for a while, reached a critical point. You picked up the remote control and stopped the movie, standing in front of the TV with a frown on your face and your arms just as crossed as his were.
"What's your problem?"
"I was watching the movie" he looked up to look you in the eye, with that fox gaze that characterized him so much. The thing was, this time he hadn't softened it, as he did every time he saw you, but it was still as sharp as a dagger, as if you were just strangers in a bar.
"I don't care about the movie" you replied, trying to decipher the source of his behavior, "What's wrong with you?"
Jeongin looked away, and mumbled something between his teeth that you failed to understand.
"What?"
"Go ask your 'friend Jeongin', I'm sure he knows. That’s what I said"
You kept silent, trying to puzzle out his words, until you remembered the phrase you had used in the previous phone call, when your mother had once again tried to use her charms to pressure you into revealing the identity of your male friend. And you smiled. You hid the curve of your lips almost immediately, because if your boyfriend had reacted that way it was because it had really affected him, and you didn't want him to misundertand your reaction. You straddled his lap and, with great effort, got him to uncross his arms and put them around your waist.
"Do you want to know who the caller was?" you asked him, using a gentle tone, resting your hands on his shoulders and massaging that area, trying to help him stop tensing his body.
He nodded, finally looking you in the eye, sulking, which made you pout.
"Ever since my sister invited us to her wedding and I told her that I would be bringing a date, my mother has taken it for granted that I have a boyfriend and wants to meet you, to know who you are" you began, sighing at your mother's behavior, "Knowing her, she'll direct all the attention my sister deserves towards me, just because I've gotten a date. And I don't want to ruin my sister's day over a silly thing. I told her you were my friend because I know she will insist me on asking you out, but only when she’s alone with me. That way there won't be any public comments with unknown intentions. I'm not ashamed of you, my love, and I'm really sorry if it gave you that feeling."
Now you did let out a chuckle as you noticed the blush that had been spreading across your boyfriend's cheeks and ears as you spoke. He covered his cheeks with his hands, and you pressed your forehead to his lovingly, still giggling slightly, loving his reaction. You rested your hands on his and leaned in to bring your lips together in a chaste kiss. And then you had an idea.
"W-what are you doing?" your boyfriend inquired, watching as you managed to reach your cell phone on the other end of the couch.
You put your index finger to his lips as you unlocked the phone, shushing him, and searching for your sister's contact. You sent her a short message making sure she had a moment for you, while your boyfriend admired your face of absolute concentration, still wondering what you were up to. Then you smiled as you read your sister's reply, and hit the video call icon instantly.
"YN! How's everything over there?"
Jeongin's eyes went wide as he recognized the voice, and he looked at you with a panicked gesture, tensing up underneath you.
"Hello, sis! I wanted to tell you something about the wedding" you announced, triumphantly.
"Oh, no," she protested, pouting, "Mom's being a pain again? I'm terribly sorry, I warned her not to be like that, but she's just so excited."
"It does have to do with mom, but it's nothing bad, don't worry" you told her, alternating your gaze between the screen and your boyfriend. "Remember when I confirmed attendance?"
"Mm-hm," he nodded, thinking about the answer, "two people and no allergies, right?"
"Right" you affirmed, noticing how your boyfriend anticipated your intentions and cringed. "I told you and mom I was going to bring my friend Jeongin."
"Wait- you're not bringing your friend after all? You're bringing a boyfriend!" she accused you, excitedly.
"More or less, yeah haha. Jeongin is my boyfriend, actually. We've been together for almost a year, and we've been living together for a few months now. I wanted someone to know it there, but mom can't find out."
"Phew, you're telling me. We wouldn't hear the end of it in our lifetime" she concurred. "And tell me, do you have your Romeo around? Or can I gossip how do you two..."
"He's here!" you hurriedly announced, cutting your sister off in the middle of her sentence, a sentence whose end you didn't even want to hear, and moved until you were sitting shoulder to shoulder with him again, making him appear in the video call too. "Jeongin, this is my sister. Sis, Jeongin, my boyfriend."
"Hi, noona," he said to her, still embarrassed, but with his trademark bright smile shining on his face.
"Hi, Jeongin!" she replied, with the energy she had always had. "I have to go now, but I hope I can see you before the wedding. Although if we can't, I hope you guys have a great time!!"
You hung up, and looked at your boyfriend with a smile on your lips, teasing him a little at how tense he had been the entire call.
"You had nothing to worry about, I wasn't going to make a fool of you."
Jeongin rolled his eyes and pulled you back onto his lap.
"You love to make a fool of me."
You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, noticing how your heart shrank at the truth you had just discovered: you were very much in love with this boy. And, knowing that this whole situation had happened because of your sister's wedding, you obviated the thought that at some point in the future, you didn't know when, you would be more than willing to marry him.
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© stayconnecteed 2023 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms
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tomriddleslove · 2 months
Text
Blood on Love’s altar.
✩Tom Riddle x Reader
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Summary: Tom Riddle did not know he could grieve. But now? He’d give up everything to not feel it.
Warnings: Mentions of Death, Suicide, Self Mutilation (brief)
A/N: 🙂
Song: Dove - Antihoney
Antent - hope to see you again
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“You ought to put that away before Professor Dumbledore sees.”
The very first words you spoke to Tom.
First year, 2 weeks into school. It was a Thursday afternoon, to be precise. It was during a transfiguration lesson. Tom had managed to nab a copy of Markov’s ‘A Guide to the Dark Arts’. It was a forbidden book, but one that had greatly intrigued him. He held it under the table, reading.
You nudged him and when he sent you a scowl you did not look away, rather speaking those very words.
“You ought to put that away before Professor Dumbledore sees.”
He just about manages to snap the book shut and shove it into his bag when Dumbledore walks past, the eclectic man giving the pair of you a once over before moving to the next desk.
The second time he spoke to you was in the library a few days later.
“Still sticking your nose in the restricted section?” You pry, sliding up behind him as he startles. He turns to face you, a look of annoyance on his face as he speaks.
"And what business is it of yours?" he retorted, his eyes narrowing.
“You’ve already quite the reputation. Lurking in the restricted section should taint that, no?” You hum.
Infuriating. Nosy. Intransigent.
-•-
“Morning Riddle.” You quip as you walk into potions, taking a seat next to him.
Second year, 3rd day back.
He looks at you but says no more, internally cursing you.
You work on a strengthening solution and accidentally drop a jar of bat spleens onto Tom’s bag.
He debates getting back at you for it, but he doesn’t.
Clumsy. Persistent. Agitating.
-•-
Third year, same scene, same setting.
"Still poking your nose where it doesn't belong?" you tease, sidling up to him with a mischievous grin.
Tom's annoyance flares, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes, a begrudging amusement perhaps. "You never learn, do you?" he mutters, though there's less bite in his tone this time.
You laugh, the sound echoing through the potions classroom. "Where's the fun in following the rules?" you reply, settling into the seat beside him.
Tom's lips twitch into an almost imperceptible smile before he turns his attention back to the brewing cauldron. Your laugh isn’t awful, he supposes.
-•-
Fourth Year, Charms. The sun was particularly nice that day. It casts a lovely glow on your face.
Professor Trinfort announced a partner project, pairing students for a collaborative spellcasting assignment. As fate would have it, you found yourself paired with Tom Riddle.
You exchange a glance, nudging him lightly. "Looks like it's you and me," you say with a faint smile.
Tom nods, his expression less guarded than before. "Seems that way," he replies, his tone less curt than usual.
As the two of you work together, you notice a subtle shift in Tom's demeanour. He's more open to your suggestions and more willing to listen to your ideas. There’s a newfound ease between you, and you don’t say anything for fear of disturbing it. Tom has left one of his books on his desk again. Professor Trinfort was walking past and you quickly grabbed the book, hiding it underneath your bag. Tom notices and looks at you with an unreadable expression for a second.
Nosy. Irritating. Perhaps not too bad, though.
-•-
5th year. You’re not there. Your absence is noticeable in the first week. It’s suffocating in the second.
Tom finds himself searching for you in the corridors, and he cannot help but feel as though something is missing. He values the quiet he now has during lessons, but it’s not as rewarding as he thought it would be. There’s a nagging feeling in him that he can’t quite shake.
He learns very quickly that you’d been attacked on the first day of term and had been in the hospital wing for quite a while. He visits you whilst you’re sleeping. He stares at your weakened form, not moving. It’s odd, seeing you in such a state.
You wake the next morning to news of the perpetrators being withdrawn from school after they all woke up missing fingers. You somehow know who it is.
Tom does not visit you till you are asleep. When he does, he places your book by your bedside. He doesn’t let himself stay for too long, berating his foolishness as he leaves.
-•-
6th Year. Tensions are running high after the death of Myrtle Warren. You’re all to face your boggarts, and Tom notices how apprehensive you are. You chew at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down relentlessly.
He places his hand over your thigh, focusing ahead as you turn to look at him.
“It’s agitating.” He mutters, and he can tell how ridiculous it sounds. You suppress a smile and turn back to the front.
He can tell you’re a bit shaken up from the lesson, so he offers to study with you in the library during the evening. He meets you after dinner, spotting you in the far corner.
You’re wearing a black corduroy skirt—a white vest with lace trimmings and a baggy green cardigan. You’ve pinned your hair back with your wand, the end of your quill pressed to your lips as you work. You’re rather beautiful, he notices. He takes a seat next to you, ignoring the smile you beam as you work together.
Hours have passed and he hasn’t noticed, enjoying your company. He feels a weight on his shoulder and turns, realising you’ve fallen asleep. He huffs in annoyance but he does not move, a hand coming up to remove your glasses from your face as he carefully sets them down on the table. You wake up in your bed, your books neatly placed on your desk. You must have come back at some point, you think to yourself.
-•-
“Hey,” You hum, plopping down next to Tom on the frosty glass near the black lake.
“Morning.” He responds, not looking up from his book as he acknowledges you. You reach into your satchel, producing a small thermos flask. You transfigure a pebble into a cup and pour a glass of steaming cinnamon tea for Tom.
As you hand him the cup of cinnamon tea, Tom finally looks up from his book, a faint hint of surprise crossing his features at the unexpected gesture. He accepts the tea with a nod of thanks, taking a sip before setting it down beside him.
"Thank you," he says quietly, his voice softer than usual, a hint of warmth in his tone that catches you off guard.
You smile in response, a gentle warmth spreading through you at the sight of his rare display of gratitude. "You're welcome," you reply, “Cinnamon tea is my favourite comfort drink.” You add, and Tom finds himself storing that piece of information in the ever-growing folder in his brain labelled ‘you.’
-•-
7th Year. Tom is elected Head Boy. You’re a bit upset you didn’t get Head Girl, but you suppose you weren’t that extraordinary. Tom feels otherwise.
You still got awarded prefect and found yourself paired on patrols with Tom.
“Seems like the universe is set on keeping us together. You finally warming up to me Tom?” You tease, grinning lopsidedly as you both roam down the dark, empty hallways. He meets your gaze with a small smile of his own, a rare display of warmth that sends a flutter of excitement through you. "Perhaps," he replies cryptically, though the glint in his eyes betrays a hint of fondness that you can't help but return.
You continue to walk in silence for a bit more till you (stupidly) have an idea. Upon digging around in your pocket you find a Gorpin’s exploding powered parcels, a tiny thing about the size of an acorn that exploded colourful powder when thrown. With a small grin, you call Tom’s name, tossing the parcel at him. He turns around and meets your gaze for a second before he’s enveloped in a cloud of pastel blue.
You laugh at the sight, clutching your stomach as a string of giggles escape your lips. As the cloud slowly clears, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind, a sudden fear that perhaps you've overstepped some invisible boundary. Your smile fades, replaced by a furrow of worry as you open your mouth to apologize.
But before you can utter a word, something unexpected happens. Tom's lips quirk up into a small smile, and he’s chasing after you.
“Tom!” You laugh, the sweet sound echoing through the halls as you begin running away from him.
His laughter joins yours, his footsteps getting closer and closer as you turn a corner. Your lungs burn, laughter bubbling from within you when you’re suddenly swept upwards, two strong arms wrapping around your midsection.
“Got you. Gonna make you pay for this.” Tom says, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face as he practically hauls you over his shoulder.
“Wait, Tom!” You protest, a yelp escaping your lips as he begins running with you in his arms.
Your protests are ignored as you enter the prefect's bathroom, and the second his intentions are clear you laugh, whilst pleading. He shifts his hold on you so you're being carried almost bridal style, and he raises a brow as he looks down at you.
“Wait, Tom. It doesn’t have to be like this.” You plead, trying to free yourself from his gasp. A smile tugs at his lips as he hums, seeming to retreat for a second. But he then holds you tighter, and in two swift steps jumps straight into the baths (which was more like a pool), sending you both into the water. A small shriek escapes your lips, and as you resurface from the water, laughing and sputtering, you shoot Tom a mock-complaining look. "Tom, you're incorrigible," you exclaim, your laughter bubbling up between your words.
Tom chuckles, the sound resonating in the spacious bathroom as he treads water beside you. For a moment, his gaze lingers on you, admiring you.
"You're quite something, you know that?" he says softly, the words carrying a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.
Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You all but melt into the kiss, a hand coming up to cup his face, resting in his drenched black curls as you sigh into his mouth.
“Tom…” You murmur.
He’s never heard a more beautiful sound.
It’s nearing a month till your final exams and you haven’t seen Tom for a few days. You venture up to his dorm, knocking on his door.
“Tom?” You call out softly, leaning against the door. “It’s me.”
There’s silence for a second, and then the door unlocks.
As the door creaks open, you find Tom sitting on his bed, looking pale and dishevelled. He coughs weakly, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of surprise before he quickly looks away.
"Hey," you say softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. "I heard you've been under the weather. Thought I'd come to check on you."
Tom nods, his expression unreadable as he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. "Yeah, just a bit under the weather," he mutters, his voice hoarse.
You frown, concern creasing your brow as you move closer to him. "You should be resting," you say gently, reaching out to feel his forehead for signs of fever.
Tom flinches slightly at your touch, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he meets your gaze with a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "I know," he admits quietly, "but I hate feeling like this. It's... frustrating."
You nod in understanding, your heart aching at the sight of him looking so uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I brought you some cinnamon tea," you say, pulling a thermos flask and a few biscuits from your bag. "Thought it might help."
Tom's lips quirk up into a small smile at your thoughtful gesture, a hint of gratitude shining through his usual stoicism. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice softer than usual.
You smile back, and Tom shuffles over to give you some space. You take a seat next to him, crossing your legs as you pour him a cup of tea. You blow on the tea to cool it slightly, taking an experimental sip to ensure it’s not too hot. When you're satisfied with the temperature, you hand the cup over to Tom. He twists it around to make sure his lips touch the same part of the cup yours did. It faintly tastes of cherry lip balm.
You don’t notice the gesture.
You lean back against the headboard, legs outstretched in front of you as you stare up at his ceiling.
“You should go. You’ll get sick.” Tom murmurs, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic apprehension that has you smiling.
“It’s fine.” You smile. You shuffle down slightly and very carefully place your head on Tom’s chest.
He tenses for a second but relaxes soon after. His hand hesitates for a moment before tentatively coming to rest on your shoulder, his touch light and cautious as if unsure of whether he's allowed to show such vulnerability.
"You don't have to stay," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can hear the underlying plea in his words.
You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you nestle closer to him. "I want to," you reply simply, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, banishing the chill of the room.
“You shouldn’t.” He repeats, and his words are undoubtedly laced with an underlying meaning that should warn you.
But if you realise that, he certainly can’t tell. You simply close your eyes and speak.
“I’ve never been the best at listening, have I?”
-•-
Exams are over, and graduation day arrives. Tom feels a conflicting mix of emotions swirling within him, and he hates the fact he’s grappling with things he shouldn’t be worried about. On one hand, there's a sense of relief that he won't have to worry about dragging you into the complexities of his life any longer. The thought of you being free from the burdens and dangers that often accompany his endeavours brings him a measure of solace.
Yet, at the same time, there's a pang of sadness that ebbs away at him when realizes that this may be the last time he'll see you. The prospect of saying goodbye, of parting ways, suddenly becomes unthinkable, and he feels a little sick.
As he scans the crowd of graduates, his gaze eventually lands on you, a soft smile gracing your lips as you chat animatedly with your friends. For a fleeting moment, he considers approaching you and saying goodbye properly, but the fear of attachment holds him back.
Instead, he watches from a distance, silently wishing you well. As the ceremony draws to a close and the graduates begin to disperse, he turns to leave, only praying you’ll never have to see him again.
But just as he's about to turn away, you catch his eye, a knowing smile playing on your lips as you make your way over to him. "Hey, Tom," you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection.
Tom's heart skips a beat at the sight of you, his resolve wavering in the face of your unwavering presence. "Hey," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smile up at him, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. "Trying to run away? You know, you won't get rid of me that easily," you tease lightly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand.
Tom's lips twitch into a small smile, a flicker of hope betraying his rationale at your words. "I certainly hope not," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.
You lean up on your tip toes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. You pull back and a small laugh escapes your lips, rubbing the faint lipstick mark it left.
Nosy. Irritating. Beautiful.
Tom doesn’t see you for a year after that.
A hesitant knock at the door of your dingy little flat nearing 1:00 am has you alert, and slightly on edge. You reach for your wand, carefully treading towards the door so as to not alert a potential intruder of your presence. You peer through the peephole, and you feel as though your world stops when you see Tom outside.
Hastily undoing the wards and spells that enchant your flat, you unlock the door and Tom all but collapses into your arms.
He reeks of dark magic, and you know. You’ve always known, really. What other mind could be so sadistically brilliant, who else would be able to crumble the Romanian Ministry of magic in a mere week?
You pull Tom into your flat, closing the door behind him as you guide him to the nearest chair. He looks drained, his usually sharp features drawn and weary. Blood stains his clothes, tension evident on his face.
You set to work immediately, inspecting the various wounds all over his body as you frantically recite healing spells, rummaging through a small leather trunk filled with an assortment of vials.
Tom observes you through half lidded eyes that threaten to permanently shut.
He always knew you’d become a healer. He had known since that day you came into his dorm and took care of him when he was ill. He had known since that day you had found an injured crow lying by the side of the greenhouse and nursed it back to full health in a mere hour.
You preserved lives, he took them.
“Up.” You murmur, pulling the hem of his shirt. He obliges, pulling his lead-like arms up as you unbutton his shirt and pull it off. You frown at the scars that mar Tom's chest and he wants to laugh.
Don’t stress over me, sweetheart. It’d be better off for you if I were dead.
He no longer flinches at your touch as you trail your hands down his chest, murmuring spells that alleviate the ache. You're exhausted by the time you're done, slinging Tom’s arm over your shoulder as you help him walk over to your bed.
He settles onto the bed with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the mattress as if it's the first time he's allowed himself to truly relax in ages. You gently place your blanket atop of him, your brow furrowed as you take a seat at the edge of your bed.
You brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, his eyes drifting shut as exhaustion finally overtakes him. You watch over him for a while longer, lingering by his bedside as he slips into a fitful sleep.
You can't help but wonder how things came to this. How the boy you once knew, the one who had captured your heart with his sharp wit and brilliant mind, had become so lost.
You slide into your bed beside him and turn over, your back facing his. You let your eyes shut and find yourself falling asleep.
You wake up in the morning, and you know before you even turn around. Your bed was empty, barely a trace of warmth left. You had to be sure you didn’t dream last night's events, padding into the kitchen as you yawn.
A singular cup of warm cinnamon tea is there. You smile softly as you take the cup.
You didn’t see him for another two years after that. The news got worse and worse. Attacks were often and many. People were scared to leave the house.
Just when you've almost given up hope of ever seeing him again, there's a knock at your door in the dead of night. You're startled awake, heart pounding as you stumble out of bed and rush to answer it.
As you swing the door open, you're met with the sight of Tom standing there, looking worse for wear. His clothes are torn, his face bruised and bloodied, and it feels like a scene all too familiar.
Without a word, you reach out and slap him across the face, the sound echoing in the silence of the night.
Tom's startled reaction is almost comical, his hand flying up to his cheek as he recoils from the force of the blow. He stares at you in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief as he tries to process what just happened.
You glare at him, your fists clenched at your sides as you let out a string of curses, venting all the frustration and anger that has been building up inside you for years.
"You can't just waltz in and out of my life whenever you please," you spit out, your voice trembling with emotion. "You can't just show up here, covered in blood and bruises, and expect me to drop everything and help you."
Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp gesture, your eyes blazing with determination.
"But you know what the worst part is?" you continue, your voice dropping to a whisper. "The worst part is that no matter how angry I am, no matter how much I want to hate you, I can't. Because despite everything, I still fucking care about you! I sit there, and I read the news, and every day I pray it’s not your death I’m seeing. Do you know how fucked up that is?"
For a moment, there's silence between you, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.
"I know," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that takes your breath away.
You melt into the kiss, your anger melting away as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Despite everything, you know that you can't stay away.
For better or for worse, you're his weakness, and he's yours.
He pulls back and you have to resist the urge to dissolve into tears, bottom lip wavering as he pulls you into his chest.
“Don’t you dare leave. Don’t you dare fucking leave.” You tremble into his chest, and his heart pangs at your plea as he speaks.
“I won’t.”
He stuck to his word. He hated you for it. But he hated himself more. Because every second he stayed, was only binding you more and more to your demise. He was killing you, he knew it would happen, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
You erode his being, taking away everything that he was sure he was certain of. There were many times he would contemplate simply killing you, ridding himself of this foolish weakness that was causing him so much turmoil. A single look at you and Tom knew that there would be little to no meaning for immortality if you weren’t to be there beside him.
Tom would disappear for days on end, and you’d hear about an attack shortly after. He’d always come back. You turned a blind eye to his actions, ignoring the furious accusations of corpses that lay there in your name.
Truthfully, you could stop him. You knew that you could turn him in, and he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you. But you didn’t, and so by association every person he killed had their blood on your hands too.
You had been called by Tom at the crack of dawn one morning. His voice echoed through your head, waking you from your slumber.
Clifford close. House 17.
You apparate without second thought, your eyes widening as you take in the scene.
Tom is standing there, covered in blood that you’re sure is not his. You turn around and spot another person, a frail old man who can barely look up.
The frail old man's plea is cut short as a burst of green light erupts from Tom's wand, ending his life in an instant. You watch in horror as the life drains from the man's eyes, a sickening realization settling in the pit of your stomach.
Tom turns to you, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. Without a word, he turns his wand to you, muttering something that knocks you straight out.
He knows that making you a Horcrux is a drastic and irreversible decision, one that will bind your soul to his for eternity. But at the same time, he can't bear the thought of losing you.
The idea of immortality without you by his side is unbearable, and he knows that making you a Horcrux is the only way to ensure that you'll always be together. It's a selfish decision, born out of desperation and fear of losing the one person who has come to mean everything to him.
A sense of self-loathing creeps in. He knows that making you a Horcrux will condemn you to a life of despair, but he can't shake the feeling that he has no other choice.
When you awaken, you find yourself back in your apartment, the events of the previous moments feeling like a distant nightmare. Tom is sitting beside you, his expression unreadable as he watches you stir.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
You blink in confusion, trying to make sense of what just happened. You recall the sight of the old man dying before you and slap a hand over your mouth, stumbling out of bed as you rush towards the bathroom. You collapse over the toilet bowl, retching. Your eyes sting, and you don’t hear Tom coming in until you feel a comforting hand on your back, one holding your hair up.
“Get the fuck off me.” You snap, pushing him away with a weak shove as you cough.
Tom steps back, his brows furrowing in concern. "What happened?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.
You whirl around to face him, your anger boiling over as you shout, "You killed a man in front of me!"
He takes a step towards you, his voice cool and collected. "You must have been imagining things," he asserts, his tone firm and unwavering. "We were home all night yesterday."
Your hands tremble with anger and disbelief as you glare at him, tears blurring your vision. "You're lying!" you sob, your voice cracking with emotion. "You're making me seem crazy!"
Tom's gaze narrows slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "I assure you, I am not," he retorts, his voice tinged with impatience. "If you don't believe me, use Legilimency on me. Check for yourself."
You close your eyes, muttering legilimens under your breath. You probe into his mind, and he doesn’t keep his guard up.
In Tom's mind, you see a vividly detailed memory of him being home all night. He sits with you by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, engrossed in a book. You drink with him, a drunken giggle escaping your lips as you kiss him.
As you pull away from his mind, a sense of dread washes over you. The memory he showed you is so convincing, so detailed, that you find yourself doubting your own recollection of events.
You come back to this reality, blinking as you suck in deep breaths.
Tom's expression softens slightly, a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he reaches out to gently touch your shoulder. "It's alright," he murmurs reassuringly. "You had quite a bit to drink last night. You're probably just tired."
You nod, though you can’t rid yourself of the nagging feeling within you. Slowly sitting up, you follow Tom back to your bedroom. You lay back down in bed with him, convincing yourself it was a nightmare.
The second you close your eyes, the man calls out to you.
It’s very real.
In the following months, the cycle of Tom's disappearances and reappearances continues, each time leaving you more drained than before. You watch helplessly as he delves deeper into darkness, his actions becoming increasingly erratic and unpredictable.
You're alone in your apartment when it happens, a sudden surge of overwhelming emotions washing over you. You double over in pain, clutching your head as a vision flashes before your eyes.
In the vision, you see Tom, his face contorted in rage as he inflicts unspeakable torture upon an innocent victim. The scene is so vivid, so horrifying, that you can barely believe what you're seeing.
Gasping for breath, you stumble back, your heart racing as you try to make sense of the vision. You feel sick, your mind reeling as you stumble back into one of the chairs.
Tom returns in the evening, and you cannot bear looking at him.
You wash the blood off his hands. He could have used a cleaning spell, but he prefers for you to do it instead. To face the reality of what you’ve chosen. To wash the blood off his hands knowing it could have been yours.
You do not ask him about the vision, because you want to delude yourself into the comfortable reality that it was merely a nightmare of sorts.
‘Those only occur during sleep’ a voice points out in your head. You choose to ignore it.
Egged on by confusion and fear, you begin reading. Researching. A mirror image of Tom, hiding dark books from his sight as you read.
You bring it up one day.
You stand in the kitchen, brewing some tea as you speak.
“Is it possible to make a Horcrux out of a human?”
Tom's eyes widen in alarm, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a calm facade. "Why would you ask such a thing?" he replies, his voice steady despite the unease that lingers in the air.
You don't miss the subtle shift in his demeanour, the way his gaze flits away from yours for just a moment before returning.
You shrug nonchalantly, feigning innocence as you pour the tea into a pair of mugs. "Just curious," you say casually, though your heart pounds in your chest.
Tom watches you closely, his expression unreadable as he takes a sip of his tea. "It's not something that should concern you," he says finally, his tone firm.
"But is it possible?" you press, your voice tinged with determination.
Tom's jaw clenches, his gaze hardening as he meets your eyes. "Yes," he admits reluctantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's a dark and dangerous magic, not something to be trifled with."
You nod slowly, your mind whirling with possibilities. "I see," you murmur, though you're already formulating a plan in your head.
You reach for one of the barely touched knives nestled in the drawer you had open and without second thought stab it straight through your hand.
Tom immediately drops the cup he holds, rushing over to you.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He exclaims, eyes wide with disbelief as he stares down at the gruesome sight.
You grit your teeth, a pained sob escaping your lips as you yank the knife back out, and Tom’s heart is pounding at the sight of your blood dripping onto his hands.
“[Name], please. Stop-“ He pleads, stammering as he tries to staunch the bleeding.
You watch in disbelief as your skin begins to heal itself together, an almost grotesque sight. It seals together, and in no less than a minute it’s completely healed, not a scar in sight.
Your stomach fills with dread, eyes widened in betrayal as you look up at Tom. His gaze meets yours, guilt riddled in his eyes as you snatch your hand away.
"Fuck," you shout, your voice filled with a mix of pain and fury. Tears stream down your face as you struggle to process the revelation. "You... you made me a fucking Horcrux?!"
Tom's face pales, his own emotions mirroring the turmoil within you. He takes a step forward,
"I... I didn't mean for this to happen," he stammers, his voice laced with desperation. "I never wanted to hurt you."
But your rage consumes you, and you lash out at him, your voice filled with venom. "You ruined me, you fucking monster!" you scream, your words echoing through the room. "How could you do this to me? How could you use me like this?"
Tears mix with your words as you continue to berate him, your emotions spiralling out of control. You feel a searing pain deep within your chest, reaching out to shove him.
“I’m sorry. I thought it would work out! You’ll be immortal! Can’t you see it’s-“ He starts, and you snap.
"Sorry won't fix this!" you cry out, your voice breaking. "You've destroyed me, Tom. I can never be whole again."
He doesn’t know what to say, remaining silent as he tries to reach out to you.
“Get out!” You scream, reaching for your glass as you throw it in Tom’s direction. It smashes against the wall behind him, but he can’t look away from you.
He ruined you. He really did.
"Get the fuck out!" you scream, your voice filled with venom. You grab whatever is within reach and hurl it in his direction. Books, vases, anything that can cause damage. Each object crashes against the walls, shattering into countless pieces.
Tom has never felt like crying before, but this might be the first time he does. He turns and leaves, for he can’t bear to face what he’s done to you.
He was weak, after all.
You sink to the ground, your body racking with sobs as you hide your face in your hands.
What a cruel thing it was. Even if you wanted to, you could never permanently rid yourself of Tom.
You claw at your chest, as though you can just pull the fragment of Tom’s soul that was bound with yours.
You feel trapped, imprisoned within your own body. Your heart aches with a profound sadness, knowing that you were both beyond redemption. If only you hadn’t warned him that day if only you weren’t selected as a prefect, if only you didn’t try to save him.
Tom hasn’t heard from you for weeks. He doesn’t dare intrude either, no. He had already done enough damage.
The date is permanently engraved in his mind.
August the 17th. 7:03 pm.
He feels a searing pain in his chest. His hand comes up to clutch his heart as a pained groan escapes his lips. He can’t see for a second, his vision blurred.
Every breath is a struggle as he clutches his chest, his heart pounding against his ribcage.
The realization hits him like a tidal wave.
A Horcrux must have been destroyed. He only had two to date.
One was the ring engraved with his family sybil, which he wore on his hand.
The other?
Fear grips him, a fear he has never known before.
No. No. No. No. No. No.
He all but stumbles upwards, his mind focusing on one image as he apparates without a second thought. He appears at the door of your flat and doesn’t entertain the idea of knocking, bursting through the door with such force it splinters.
“[Name]?” He calls out, his voice a desperate plea as he searches through the eerily quiet apartment.
His heart pounds in his chest, his breaths shallow and rapid as he calls out your name, his voice laced with desperation and urgency.
"[Name]?" he repeats, the sound of his voice echoing through the silent space. There is a sense of foreboding, a heaviness in the air as he navigates the chaos, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.
His footsteps are quick and purposeful as he moves from room to room, his senses heightened, attuned to any flicker of your presence.
Finally, his gaze lands on a small table, and there, amidst the disarray, he sees a letter addressed to him. His heart skips a beat as he snatches it up, but within the depths of his mind, he knows what the contents of the letter will read.
Tom.
You by no doubt will know by now. I must preface by saying that I hate you. I will never ever forgive you for what you’ve done to me.
I remember with frightening clarity the day we had both first met. You were quite rude, but you backed down slightly when I had covered for you. It was then that I knew you must have not had very good people around you in your upbringing, for you were very reserved.
Despite all that, despite the fact that it was a very clear warning not to get entangled with you, I still did.
Year after year, I persisted. I could tell when you got annoyed, yet I did not give up. I was determined to know who Tom Riddle was.
I knew I loved you the day you had stayed with me after that boggart lesson. It’s rather silly, it was quite possibly the bare minimum someone could have done. But coming from you? Merlin, it was essentially the same as being gifted the moon.
I was not oblivious to what you were doing. Even from a young age, I knew of your plans, of your intentions. I suppose in a sense you’re not to blame, for I chose to love you willingly.
I only wish you had trusted me. You may have loved me, but you never trusted me. If you did, you’d have known my soul was already yours. I was bound to you indefinitely, there was no chance I wouldn’t have loved you.
I wanted love, you wanted devotion. They aren’t the same, my love. Devotion would have been me following you to the ends of the earth if you asked without question. Love would have been me not wanting to, but knowing I’d travel further to save you should you need it.
I would have given the world for you, Tom. I just wish you had let me do it on my own accord.
I love you. I always will. I always have. If there is a heaven though, I hope we never meet again.
Do not be afraid to be human. You, out of despair, and fear, and greed, drove everyone away from you. You cannot mourn a loss that you perpetuated. We are all human, flawed and imperfect. You are too. You may try to avoid it, you can split your soul and continue killing, but you’re only deflecting the truth.
I hope in my death you will meet your own. Mortality is a beautiful thing, Tom.
Do not postpone it. Existence has no better gift.
- [Name.]
-•-
It’s rather cruel how he can recall the entirety of your life in mere minutes. It doesn’t feel right, for the only time Tom truly lived was when he was with you. A lifetime, an eternity.
A mere recollection as he stands at your grave.
The rain is harsh, unforgiving. It seeps into his skin though he’s grateful, for some feeling was better than none.
He thought he would be immune to grief. It wasn’t that bad of a thing.
He can’t recall a day he hasn’t thought about you.
He threw himself further into the dark arts. He became more prominent, more ruthless. Many thought he was simply becoming more powerful.
Tom only hoped that in his efforts someone would find a way to end him. He threw himself into the most haphazard situations with the hope that a spell would misfire, that he would make an enemy of someone who would be able to kill him.
His eyes flicker up to the tree that grows above your grave. It was perhaps the first and only time he had cultivated a living thing.
Cinnamomum verum.
His fingers trace the inscription on the stone. Your laughs are buried deep within the recesses of his mind. They echo everytime he steps foot into your apartment.
It had been 6 years since you were found dead. He hasn’t touched a single thing. He sees life in your unmade bed, in the plants that he has an elf tend to. He keeps your necklace on him at all time, rolling the small pendant between his fingers when he finds himself thinking of you.
He forgoes tending to his own wounds. If it killed him then so be it.
There is not a day that goes by when he doesn’t read your letter.
Losing you was beyond losing a piece of his soul.
It was losing everything.
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lancermylove · 2 months
Text
As a Best Friend (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: Leaders x gn!Reader, platonic.
Warning: None
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The strict-parent best friend.
Did you eat? Did you study? Did you sleep? Why are you playing video games when you should be studying? Did you finish the assignment due tomorrow? Don't eat too much junk food!
Riddle wakes you up in the morning and makes sure you eat properly, study, and take care of yourself.
He helps you with your studies, time management, and balance studies/work and play.
Despite his strict behavior, Riddle had a softer side for you, and that side is only meant for you to see. While he is strict with you, he also makes sure to reward you for finishing your homework and chores, doing well on tests, and so on.
One thing he really dislikes that you do...read that as he likes it but pretends to hate it...is when you pinch his cheeks.
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The prince knight-in-shining-armor best friend.
He is there for you at every given moment - through thick and thin, light and dark, morning and night, left and right...you name it. If you say you don't need him, he will sulk and give you space, but watch from the shadows to ensure you are okay.
Malleus will shower you with affection, presents, compliments, food, flowers, hugs, and anything and everything that makes you happy. He wants nothing more than to see you smile.
No one dares to mess with you since Malleus is your best friend, but if anyone is stupid enough, he will shield you and make the other person regret even stepping close to you.
Though Malleus is standing by your side, he has a deep fear that he refuses to tell you about. The dragon is afraid of losing control of himself and potentially hurting you. He often has nightmares and comes to seek comfort from you but never tells you about the nightmares.
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The do-what-makes-you-happy best friend.
Didn't finish your work? Do it later. Don't want to finish your work? Then, don't. The complete opposite of Riddle.
He is the best friend who will laugh if you trip and fall but then help you up and destroy whatever object you tripped on.
Leona is always ready to lend an ear to you and comfort you when needed. He also likes taking naps with you, especially when you are upset. Leona will hold out his arms to you, and in minutes, you will be fast asleep, cuddled close to his muscular body.
Be prepared for spontaneous adventures when he has the energy for them, or be prepared to spend the entire day lazying around in one of your rooms.
Leona is loyal af to you and supports you through thick and thin. He is your shield, and no one can touch you as long as he is with you, which is always. In return, he only asks for you to be by his side and see him for himself. Also, let him use your lap as a pillow because it's the coziest place for him.
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The bright-as-a-sun best friend.
When Kalim is with you, even the dullest moment will be filled with joy and positivity. He is your personal sunshine.
Just be prepared for parties, adventures, and trying various and random foods. Kalim has too much energy, and you are expected to keep up with him. But if you can't, don't worry; he will get a magic carpet to fly you around.
Kalim will also shower you with endless gifts and will not take no for an answer whether you like it or not. Giving you gifts is just one way he shows you affection.
He will support you under any circumstance and be your motivational coach, pushing you to reach your goals and achieve your dreams.
Most of all, he will always remind you to be yourself and not let anyone change who you are. Because you are perfect already!
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The fabulous-guiding-light best friend.
He strives to be perfect in every way, and this extends to your friendship with him. Vil wants to be the perfect best friend, someone who can be your guiding light and pillar, especially in your darkest moments.
He is also your personal stylist, makeup artist, and hairdresser.
Vil knows exactly what to say to motivate you and always pushes you to achieve your dreams, no matter how difficult they seem. He always reminds you that you are not alone, so if you fail, he will help you up and walk the path with you again.
He shows you affection often with small gestures like hugs and compliments, tucking your hair behind your ear, and stroking your head or cheek.
Vil truly cherishes your friendship, and though he might not say it out loud, he always lets you know through his soft smiles and actions.
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The mastermind best friend.
Azul is loyal, dependable, and willing to do things for you without a price, except when he asks for a hug in return.
He pays attention to every little detail, meaning that if you try to hide your thoughts or emotions from him, he will know. And you won't be able to get away from him until you tell him why you are sad.
Even with his busy schedule, Azul always finds time for you. If he needs to, he will drop everything (or hand the duties to Jade) to spend time with you.
He is protective of you, but at the same time, he wants you to learn how to fight your battles so that you can be independent. But Azul will always be standing behind you in case you need his help.
While he is not good with sweet words, Azul knows how to motivate you and give you the warmest hugs to help you overcome any pain, sadness, or anger.
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The your-my-everything best friend.
It takes him a while to accept you as a best friend, but when he does, Idia pushes past his introverted and shy nature and shows you his warm side that only Ortho has seen.
If you need help with anything technology-related, he is your go-to. Idia will go out of his way to create or program things for you to make your life easier.
If you are a gamer, expect to spend hours or sleepless nights with him in his room playing games together.
He is VERY protective of you and will not let anyone hurt you. He might not be able to confront that person, but Ortho will step in on his behalf.
Idia always had a secret fear of losing you because your friendship and moments mean the world to him. You are the only person he can share his feelings with and open up his closed heart without any worries in the world.
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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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elonomhblog · 17 days
Text
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45:15 pomodoro ~ study technique
the pomodoro technique was developed in the late 1980's by francesco cirillo, who was a university student at the time. here’s how it came about:
struggling to focus. cirillo found himself struggling to focus on his studies and complete assignments. feeling overwhelmed, he sought a way to improve his productivity and concentration.
the tomato timer. inspired by a kitchen timer shaped like a tomato (known as “pomodoro” in italian), cirillo decided to experiment with time management methods. he set a two-minute timer for himself and challenged himself to stay focused for just two minutes.
twenty-five-minute work intervals. building on this idea, cirillo refined the technique. he divided his work into twenty-five-minute intervals, which he called “pomodoros”. during each pomodoro, he worked diligently on a task without distractions.
short breaks. after each twenty-five-minute work interval, cirillo took a five-minute break. these breaks allowed him to recharge and maintain focus.
longer breaks. after completing four pomodoros (a total of one-hundred minutes), he rewarded himself with a longer break of fifteen to thirty minutes. this cycle helped him manage his time effectively.
some challenges that people face with the pomodoro timer include: facing interruptions and distractions, task switching, ridgity, ignoring breaks, perfectionism and fatigue.
this is why some students choose to partake in a 45:15 pomodoro, as it allows them to spend more time on their tasks, and then they can enjoy a longer break.
longer intervals allow for deep focus. some students find it difficult to switch tasks every twenty-five-minutes, preferring to immerse themselves in a topic for a longer period.
certain academic tasks, such as extended essays, research and programming, require sustained attention. longer pomodoros accommodate this better.
it's important to remember that everyone has different levels of focus and a unique productivity rhythm. it's important to test out different structures and strategies and learn what works best with your natural flow.
❤️ joanne
(images are from pinterest)
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pillowfort-social · 2 months
Text
Site Update - 2/9/2024
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Hi Pillowfolks!
Today is the day. Post Queueing & Scheduling is finally here for everyone. Hooray! As always we will be monitoring closely for any unexpected bugs so please let us know if you run into any.
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New Features/Improvements
✨ *NEW* Queue & Schedule - One of the most highly requested features has finally arrived at Pillowfort. Users can now effortlessly Queue or Schedule a post for a future time.  
Queue helps keep your Pillowfort active by staggering posts over a period of hours or days. Just go to your Settings page to set your queue interval and time period.
How to add a post to your queue: 
While creating a new post or editing a draft, click on the clock icon to the right of the “Publish” button and choose “Queue.” Then click “Queue” when you’re ready to submit the post.
Schedule assigns a post a specific publishing time in the future (based on your timezone you’ve selected in Account Settings). How to schedule a post: 
While creating a new post or editing a draft, click on the clock icon to the right of “Publish” and choose “Schedule.” Enter the time you wish to publish your post, click on “Submit” and then click “Schedule.” 
How to review your queued & scheduled posts: 
On the web, your Queue is available in the user sidebar located on the left side of the screen underneath “Posts.” (On mobile devices, click on the three line icon located on the upper left of your screen to access your user sidebar.)
Note: the “Queue” button will only display if you have one or more queued or scheduled posts.
A CAVEAT: It is not currently possible to queue or schedule posts to Communities. We do intend to add this feature in the future, but during development it was determined that enabling queueing & scheduling to Communities would require additional workflow and use case requirements that would extend development time when this project has already been delayed, and so it was decided to release queue & scheduling for blogs only at the present time. We will add the ability to queue & schedule to Communities soon after the Pillowfort PWA (our next major development project) is complete.
✨ End of Year Fundraiser Reward Badges: End of Year Fundraiser Rewards Badges will begin to be distributed today. We'll update everyone when distribution is done.  
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✨ End of Year Fundraiser Reward Frames: As a special thank you to our community for helping keep Pillowfort online we have released two very special (and cozy!) Avatar Frames for all users. 
As for the remaining End of Year Fundraiser Rewards - we will be asking the Community for feedback on the upcoming Light Mode soon. 
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✨ Valentine’s Day Avatar Frame: A new Valentine’s Day inspired frame is now available!
✨ Valentine’s Day Premium Frames: Alternate colors of the Valentine’s Day frame are available to Pillowfort Premium subscribers. 
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✨ Site FAQ Update - Our Site FAQ has received a revamp.  
Terms of Service Update
As of today (February 9th), we are updating our Terms of Service to prohibit the following content:
Images created through the use of generative AI programs such as Stable Diffusion, Midjourney, and Dall-E.
An explanation of how this policy will be enforced and what exactly that means for you is available here: https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/4317673
Thank you again for your continued support. Other previously mentioned updates (such as the Pillowfort Premium Price increase, Multi Account Management, PWA, and more) will be coming down the pipeline soon. As always, stay tuned for updates. 
Best, Staff
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xreaderbooks · 4 months
Text
Reward | Leo Valdez
Summary: Reader has had enough to worry about without her boyfriend coming to ask her for help with a homework assignment.
based on this request
Warnings: Language, Aged-up, fluff, making out like constantly, very slight angst, readers bad at math (cuz i'm bad at math and i cant fake it for the fic)
Word Count: 1.8k
PJO/HOO Masterlist | Navi | Masterlist of Masterlists
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"You want me to help you?" A quizzical look befell your face as you look up from your spot under the shaded tree. You sat by the edge of the lake, you were taking a quick break hiding from the younger campers who wanted to train with you as you were a crowd favorite with the new arrivals. You just needed a recharge, a moment away from the energy that overexerted you. "Of all people?"
Leo rolled his eyes, "Who else?"
You snorted, "Cabin 6 is that way." You pointed and nodded your head in the direction of the Goddess of Wisdom's cabin, filled with the brightest minds and much better options to help Leo with his current request.
"C'mon baby, please?" Your boyfriend pouted and lowered his chin to gain your favor with his golden brown eyes that, you were afraid to admit, made you weak. 
"But I'm tired and I want to take a nap, using my brain will probably kill me at this point." 
He knelt with outreached hands, you allowed him to hold both of your palms in his own, you should have known better. He used his strength to pull you up from the ground and brought you to his chest, his hands settled on your hips. 
Instinctively you looped your arms around his neck and rolled your head to the right, tilted perfectly for him to mold his lips to yours. And he did, pecking chaste kisses onto your lips, pleading with you to join him in Bunker 9.
"I suppose I could be persuaded," You nudged your nose against his. 
~~~
The moment you arrived inside the bunker and saw his work table, normally filled with scattered tools and mechanical pieces that were in the process of being fixed or tweaked, was now littered with papers. 
Leo's homework was divided into five different sections that had their respective piles. "By some miracle, I finished everything else, now all I'm missing is this." He reveals papers that were held behind his back.
"Math." You skim the equations on the document in your hands, nothing on this page was anything you would be able to help him with. 
The smirk on his face made you glare at him and fold your arms stubbornly, "Yup," Leo rolled two chairs over to the desk that felt like your new timeout spot. 
"Honestly, I feel like I shouldn't be subjected to torture because you decided to take courses over the summer." 
"What happened to 'you die, I die'?" He reiterated the phrase you had spoken to him as a sort of mantra during the war. Your jaw dropped at the use of them being thrown back in your face and quickly shut it close. 
"In the face of war!" You exclaimed and shrugged it off, "Just for that, you can die alone."
"I did, it wasn't my vibe," He twirled a strand of your hair, and let it fall back into place, stepping back with a hand on his hip leaning the other on the table. "Aren't you testy today?"
"It's been a day, the kids were hard to gather and once I had them riled up they wanted to learn this specific trick they've seen me do but how many times can I let them down gently and tell them they need to learn the basics- drills that they've repeated hundreds of times, that some still aren't getting and will possibly die if they get caught by a monster if they don't get-" You inhale deeply, "So what do I do? I let them learn the hard way to get it through their heads that it's not as simple as it looks and I've only managed after years of fucking practice. And you know what?"
"What?" You wanted to smack the amused smirk off of Leo's pretty face. 
"They didn't pick it up like I knew they wouldn't, now they hate me but still wanna train with me because they still want me to teach them. My body is sore, I'm tired and I hate you for making me do homework," You pout. 
He approaches you with caution, slowly caressing your cheeks in his hands, he presses his lips against yours that were currently being smushed together by his hands. It was a quick but meaningful kiss, only for him to say "I'm going to fail if I don't get this done."
"Leo!" You push him away from you. "What the hell do you mean, you're going to fail, you've been cooped up in here all summer!"
A sheepish smile and pink-dusted cheeks appear at your sudden outburst, he chuckles nervously knowing he just put the cherry on top of your already bad day. "I've been behind on a couple of assignments and I've finished most of them already, I'm mostly caught up"
"Mostly?" You were going to strangle him. You haven't spent much time together lately because of his homework. He decided to take summer classes to get ahead, and he's been busy ever since. You were constantly teaching the younger campers, and helping out around camp, whether in the infirmary or setting up activities to keep busy and you loved it but you missed your boyfriend. 
"But Nyssa had this project she'd been working on and I couldn't help it."
You rolled your eyes and sighed, you couldn't be upset with him- not completely, you understood how hard it was for Leo to stay focused on a task that wasn't something he could physically tinker with, but there had been moments where you wanted to just be with him in his presence and you stopped yourself from going to him knowing that you'd only be a distraction. 
"I promise this is the only one left," He takes your hand and leads you to sit on a chair then sits in another one next to you. 
"I'm so annoyed with you right now," You snatch the paper and look over the equations. 
An hour and a half into the 50-question work packet, you and Leo moved to the mattress lifted by wooden pallets used for shipping crates. 36 out of 50 equations were done, with work shown, Leo had barely any trouble working on it as he was naturally good with numbers you weren't sure you were needed at all. 
You solved a couple for him when he got bored and started leaving trails of kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, you were sure the answer was right and took a break, though when he pulled out of his dazed and loving state he looked over it and kissed you deeply.
"What was that for?" You asked in a whisper. 
"A reward," He held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, pecking your cheek. "For helping me with my homework."
"Well, if I don't help you get this done, who will?" 
"Malcolm and I are pretty tight," Leo has a deep stare on your lips, his thumb swipes your swollen bottom lip. "You've also got eight of them wrong, Mi Amor." 
"I did nine of them," You did the math- that you weren't good at in your head, piecing together that you indeed sucked. "Why'd you ask me to help you, if you knew that I couldn't do math."
"I wanted to be around you, it's been a while since we've been alone." He toys with the bracelet he gifted you on your first anniversary, five charms for the five years you've been together since you confessed your feelings at age 17 after the war ended. You met at age 15 when Annabeth brought him to camp, and the rest is history. 
"I'm still annoyed at you, you know, just because I've let you kiss me a couple of times doesn't mean-" He cuts you off with another kiss like earlier, catching you off-guard, intense and full of feeling. You immediately kiss back, not having the willpower to not, succumb to the charms he begrudgingly has on you. 
You deepen the kiss by entangling your hands in his hair pulling his impossibly closer, it was a synchronized dance at first, the years of being used to the pattern of each other's kiss being shown in the heavy minutes of your mouths moving together in passion. It soon became heated, teeth clashing, tongues moving sloppily, mouths chasing each other after breaking apart two seconds at a time for breath. 
Leo gently laid you on your back, breaking apart to take off his shirt, the moment it slipped off you brought him down to you, he fit perfectly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation of him grinding against you. He parts his lips from yours, to which you whine softly. He licks a stripe from your neck to your jaw and sucks until he's satisfied with the way you sigh and rock your body up and clutching onto the blades on his shoulders on his back. 
He repeats licking, sucking, and kissing soft kisses as an apology for the spots he bit until you were sore.
You pull away from him and flip your bodies so that you are on top, you grab his wrists and pin them to the top of the pillows to see his reaction and wanting to be in control for a while. You gave him the same treatment and brought your body lower so that you could kiss all over his chest and back up. 
You sat up to breathe fresh air, straddling him and releasing his hands only for him to intertwine his hands with yours and play with your fingers. He bucks his hips up playfully, and you jump slightly, your eyes widen for a second, and your lips turn up in a grin. 
"You've gotten better at not... you know," You hint at the control Leo's gained with his fire powers. Heated makeouts like this were often interrupted by the smell of smoke or his skin feeling feverish. 
He lets go of your hands and places his larger hands on your hips, you ignore the butterflies that flutter in your heart and stomach at the way he rubs up your waist and hips. "My hair was steaming earlier, I was hoping you didn't notice, thankfully you didn't or this would've been awkward."
"It's not awkward when that happens Leo, it's a little funny, to be honest, part of the reason why I love you." You tell him earnestly, "Nothing's awkward with you, you're my best friend." 
"I love you," Leo responds with unwavering eyes on yours. "I'm sorry for the time we lost."
"It's okay, we were just making up for it." 
~~~
holy gods, I haven't read this series in forever 
I feel like it's a crime to admit I haven't read the new book yet, i'm rereading the series and waiting for the episodes to come out before i watch the show so im going in timeline order... just wanted to let y'all know. oh, and also i haven't fully read the trials of apollo which i know has info on where the HoO people are at in their lives that i'm not aware of...
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blurredcolour · 4 months
Text
In The Bleak Mid-Winter
[One-shot]
Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader
No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.
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Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY
Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.
Word Count: 6171
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December 29, 1944 - Bastogne
“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”
Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.
Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.
“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”
“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”
The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.
With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.
Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.
You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.
The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.
“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.
“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”
The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.
Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.
Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.
The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.
“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.
Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.
“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.
He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.
“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.
You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.
“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”
The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.
“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.
“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”
You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.
“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”
The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.
The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.
Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.
“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.
“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.
You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”
You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.
“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.
Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.
“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”
Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.
“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”
“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.
Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”
“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.
“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.
General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’
Nuts, indeed.
You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.
What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.
By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.
Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.
“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.
“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.
You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.
“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.
His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.
“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.
“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”
You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.
Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.
“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.
You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”
“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.
“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.
You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”
“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.
“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.
“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.
“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.
“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.
It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.
He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.
“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.
He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.
“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”
You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.
“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.
“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”
You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”
“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.
“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.
“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.
One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.
You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.
Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.
The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.
Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.
If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.
“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.
“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.
You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.
“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”
He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.
“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.
“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.
“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.
“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.
“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”
He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”
“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.
“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.
“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”
A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”
Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.
After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.
“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.
His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.
Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.
“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.
“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.
He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.
“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”
He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.
“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.
Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.
“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.
“And his own Sargent!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.
All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.
“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”
His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.
Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.
Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.
“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.
“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.
“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.
Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.
The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.
Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.
Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.
“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.
He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.
Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.
A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.
He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.
Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.
“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.
“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.
He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.
Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.
Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.
“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.
It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.
“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.
You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.
“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.
It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.
“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”
“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.
Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.
————————————-
Band of Brothers Masterlist
Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky
Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!
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itoshi-s · 1 year
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Bllk boys being whipped for manager!reader😩😩
aaaaaaaaAAAa this idea is always so cute in every sports animanga !! :(
the bllk boys, who are still so overwhelmed with the world that's opened up to them thanks to the project - the money and opportunities way bigger than they ever dreamed of, even - and to top it all off, as if the stress of getting signed to one of the world's highest grossing clubs wasn't enough, the club assigns them a manager - you.
you're either barely a few years older than them or yet again, the same age, and you're just taking the few first steps in your company and management. hell it might even be your very first time working as one !! and yet, you're trying so hard, always keeping an eye of them, and it makes them so flustered jasfafkh even more so bc they know they just cannot keep away from you !!
isagi would be a blushin mess all of the time during your meetings <3 it might seem like he's listening to you at all, but fear not, he's actually so focused on you and everything you're telling him that it gives him a head ache !! you look so absolutely stunning, he has to give his full attention and self control to actually listen to what you have to say. the fact that you're his age doesn't help him one bit - he wonders if it's not out of line to be such good friends with your manager !! gets so sheepish when you're the first one to run up to him whenever he'd collapse, checking for an injury immediately with a worried, "are you okay, yoichi?!" big eyes looking right at him. and if the cramp in his leg feels like dying, then you are surely an angel sent from above to bring him to heavens with you akjhfskjfha
sae who would just wave you off most of the times and give you so much more work than you signed up for. it might look like he's in control of everything, but he really is the opposite, and everything outside of the field seems to slip right out of his hands - and so, you're the one to pick up the mess. he'd never really admit it to you that he really appreciates the way you stick to him like glue at all times, yet give him space when needed, too. you seem to know him so well ,, it's just scary to him :(( he has no time to commit to anyone and yet, the thought of your relationship becoming much more than just professional brings him warmth. one time, after a late night meeting with the club management, he walks back to your office to tell you anything important that took place - and is met with a sight of you, fast asleep on your desk. there's some papers scattered around and some neatly organized into stacks, but judging by the amount,, you must've been working on it so hard to manage to do it all in the last hour. sae feels an unfamiliar pull at his heart as he walks over, gently brushing the hair away from your face. the movement wakes you up, and before you can startle, sae gives a reassuring rub to the back of your neck. he hopes your vision's still blurry with sleep so that you don't see the way his eyes soften as he looks down at you,, "c'mon, i'll drive you home." (つω`。)
rin is pretty much the easiest of the boys to take care of ,, considering he already has a strict regimen considering his health and training. the only thing you need to do is remind him to relax every now and then ,, something he seems to forget about more often . he's not really good with words, and sometimes even comes off harsh when he doesn't intend to - after all, you're just doing your job, and are actually really good at it considering how recently his play has been better than ever before - and he hates to think you could ever feel underappreciated. he just really doesn't know how to communicate outside of the field ,, even with his teammates , let alone with someone that gets his heart to beat faster :(( that's why upon seeing the reservation for a little weekend spa retreat on his mail ,, he quickly adds another spot to it without much thought. the least he could do is reward your hard work with a little breather, right??? he realizes he might not be very good with not only communication, but planning and organizing either when you two arrive to the hotel and only receive one room key ..... the receptionist apologizes with a smile as you ask for one more available room , and just when you're about to change the reservation times so that you can come any other time ,, rin grabs you by the wrist gently . and for the very first time since working with him, you see a blush on his cheeks as he asks you to stay, if only you don't mind :""))
reo who showers you in all the presents possible !!! you're so sheepish about it all of the time, saying that no - no, mikage-san, i-i can't take this!, but he's off to another practice or physio appointment before you can really give it back akfhsaf . probably mentions you in an interview whenever he's asked by people that inspire him and keep him going <333 he knows that he's a handful sometimes ,, (especially since he made you take nagi under your wing as well akjfhsa giving u like,, double the work . but you truly are the best there is, and he knows nagi needs a little push sometimes) BUT hearing the sweet words is enough to make your chest swell with pride :)) since he's so sly and generous with everyone around him, you don't realize he's so into you only until he straight forward confesses his feelings to you during one of your many business dinners/dates (≧◡≦) ♡
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selfhelpforstudents · 5 months
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From Procrastination to Productivity: Strategies for Beating Study Blues
Girls in Finance project server // other posts
We've all been there – staring at a pile of textbooks with a looming deadline, feeling overwhelmed and tempted to procrastinate. Overcoming procrastination is key to unlocking your full academic potential and achieving success.
Understanding Procrastination:
Identify Procrastination Triggers:
Recognize the specific situations or tasks that trigger your procrastination.
Is it a challenging subject, a lack of interest, or fear of failure?
Break Tasks into Manageable Steps:
Large tasks can be daunting, leading to procrastination.
Break down assignments into smaller, more manageable steps to make progress less intimidating.
Set Realistic Goals:
Unrealistic expectations can contribute to procrastination.
Set achievable goals and prioritize tasks based on deadlines and importance.
Strategies for Beating Study Blues:
Create a Study Schedule:
Establish a realistic and consistent study schedule.
Allocate specific time blocks for different subjects or tasks.
Use the Pomodoro Technique:
Break your study time into intervals, typically 25 minutes of focused work followed by a 5-minute break.
This technique helps maintain concentration and reduces the temptation to procrastinate.
Visualize the End Result:
Envision the sense of accomplishment and success you'll feel upon completing your tasks.
Visualizing positive outcomes can motivate you to overcome procrastination.
Reward Yourself:
Incorporate rewards into your study routine.
Treat yourself to a short break, a snack, or a fun activity after completing a challenging task.
Overcoming Study Blues:
Mindfulness and Relaxation Techniques:
Practice mindfulness or relaxation exercises to reduce stress and anxiety.
Calm and focused minds are less prone to procrastination.
Seek Accountability:
Share your study goals with a friend or family member who can help hold you accountable.
Having a study buddy can make the process more enjoyable and motivating.
Reflect and Adjust:
Regularly reflect on your study habits and identify patterns of procrastination.
Adjust your strategies based on what works best for you.
Beating study blues is a gradual process that involves understanding your tendencies, implementing effective strategies, and maintaining consistency. By taking proactive steps to overcome procrastination, you'll pave the way for a more productive and successful academic journey.
Join our Girls in Finance project if you want to learn more about studying finance and the financial world. <3
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kingkenzieofmold · 1 month
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I got permission and love from @rarestdoge to show off this guy! Meet 'Overlord' Villain!Cameron Copperbottom. How he came to be, the idea of playing terraria together on master mode but as our villain characters. Realized Doge does not have a villain character and him wanting to play as his son and inspire by an abandoned construction site made this sad bastard. So Enjoy!
Ashley, Henry and Charles designs belong to @mai-mai-lim
Brutus belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen
The Incandescent Prince AU:
Cameron Takes over after private investigator and struggles hard with being in the leadership position. Ashley and Brutus trying to help him but they too are trying to figure out there new roles as his seconds. So hence the more angry and stressed out Cameron. Eventually they prepare the space station and have the toppat king ending style fight with the government and get out. Once in space Cameron determines that a next course of action is to recuse the remaining Toppats.
Charles and Seung-Jae are assigned any mission dealing with the Toppats because of their experience with them. This leads to the heist against the wall that Cameron prepares. Upon raiding the wall Charles and Seung-Jae are alerted to the situation and are sent in. This is where it goes revenged arc vibes. The rescue team ending up in the cafeteria and having the airship on stand by. Charles and Seung-Jae having land on the helicopter pad making their way down to the Toppats Location.
The Wall and Toppats are duking it out when they arrive and the main rescue team having gotten most of the Toppat on to the air craft. A few still behind, Right Hand Man is fighting with Cameron against Dimitri when Seung-Jae charges RHM and body checks him, causing him to lose balance and fall out the building. Cameron of course goes after him not really thinking. Which is the slight scene I drew where Honeymaple catches Cameron but was unable to save RHM. This leads to him being in critical condition. The mission was a success but at what cost.
This cause Cameron to spiral slightly. Reginald due to RHMs condition does not resume leadership and consoles Cameron as much as he can in his grief. Cameron continues being leader but with a bit more venom, he disliked the government before but now he hates the government. He hates Seung-Jae for Locking his dads up and being the cause that his dad might die. Seung-Jae is consumed with guilt and is not doing too good. Ashley and Brutus try to be there for Cameron but Cameron is isolating himself. He then imposes a new mission: to make the governments lives a living nightmare.
He sets a new rule to engage in combat with all government agents and to not show mercy. He begins these heist with high risk, high reward. He wants to government to surrender for one reason to get Henry Stickmin in the most humiliating way possible and then kill him in front of the whole clan for what he has done. Ashley and Brutus are of course horrified by the plan and start trying to reason with him. Which leads to ‘you’re either with me or against me’ argument.
Eventually His plan does work out and he gets Seung-Jae but also Charles as he not about to leave Henry alone to the Toppats. Cameron is pissed even more at the fact that Charles is here and he is associated with Henry but not even his brother can reason with him. At this point the Toppat doctors and Reginald managed to locate some scientists who can help save RHM, making him into Right Hand Man Reborn.
Cameron has prepared the stage for this judgment and execution. No body is happy with this but they are not about to stop their prince yet. The judgement has been made and the execution is to be delivered. Cameron facing down Seung-Jae as Charles and his seconds are trying to convince Cameron not to do this. Seung-Jae sacred by resigned to his fate. The Toppats unable to do anything without the risk of Cameron firing before they could stop him. Right Hand Man enters the Stage. Talking down Cameron and embracing him in a hug. Letting him know it’s alright. Cameron has a mental breakdown, his stress of being leader and everything that has happen, seeing his dad there and hugging him.
He cried.
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thesunhatesme · 2 months
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🪥🦷Ghouls at the dentist - HC🦷🪥
It’s time for the ghouls yearly dental appointments
Aether
He helped drag some ghouls out of the car and in to the building. He went in first because he could behave and then Copia could stay in the waiting room and make sure no one escaped. He, of course, behaved wonderfully. He did need to go in with Dew because he was not planning on behaving and would probably have to be held down. And he stood in the room when it was time for Swiss because sometimes he randomly decided he had had enough
Mountain
Also dragged ghouls out of the car. He went in after Aether and also behaved amazingly. The plan was to take the brave and calm ones first so that Phantom and Aurora wouldn’t get frightened since it was their first time at the dentist. He had to go in with Dew because last time Aether was alone with him and it didn’t go exactly as planned.
Cumulus
Behaved like an angel, of course. She was assigned to the waiting room duty, handle all the nervous energy and will to burn/flood the place down. Of course she handled it very well because the building was not in flames when they left and no one managed to escape
Cirrus
She didn’t want to go, but one look at Cumulus told her it was not up for debate, so she went in, reluctantly, but behaved civilly. When she was done, she was also assigned to waiting room duty and then loopey ghoul duty in the car
Aurora
Then it was Auroras turn, she went in alone but the nurse asked for help because she started biting for funnsies. Copia went in and threatened to take away her phone and to keep her reward lollipop. She stopped biting
Swiss
Then it was supposed to be phantoms turn, but he was too nervous, so Swiss went instead. Aether came with him but ended up calling for backup, Copia. He got drugged so they would be able to give him his dental examination. He got put in the car with Cirrus to wait out the drugs.
Rain
Phantom was still too nervous so he had to go in. Aether and Copia went in the room with him, since he too, had to be drugged. He had to me held and strapped down for his shot because he refused to breath in the gas mask. He then got carried to the car with Cirrus
Dew
Phantom had locked himself in the bathroom so Dew had to be next. He had to be dragged in hissing and biting by Aether and Copia with Cumulus walking behind, in case he freed himself. He had to be held down and heavily drugged
Phantom
He was very nervous and didn’t want to go. He started crying when his turn was coming up and sat in Mountains lap to calm down. Then he ran away and locked himself in a toilet stall. Mountain managed to get him out and held his hand all the way to the dentist office. He was very nervous but he took it like a champ. He felt a bit better when he saw how loopy Swiss, Rain and Dew were.
Copia
He stocked up on lollipops and made sure there was whiskey in his office for when he came home. Then he gave himself a pep talk and loaded up his ghouls in the car, most of them git in the car without any problem, some had to be dragged in, but everyone arrived at the dentist in the same car and that’s all that matters. Then he tried to keep everyone in line. When every ones appointments were over he drove home and put three loopy ghouls in front of the TV and handed out lollipops to every single one of his brave ghouls, even though some probably didn’t know why they got it or what it was
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jeanboyjean · 3 months
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PART 1: First Impressions
a/n: guys doing a chaptered fic is so hard bc u have to plan everything. ive outlined this one + written some of the next parts so this is part 1/10 (I think). see masterlist for synopsis + each part as they get updated. wc: 4.5k MASTERLIST | AO3
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A warm breeze tickles your skin as you step onto campus, the atmosphere thick with the restless buzz of first day jitters. The sun is well and truly shining today, clear blue skies with not a cloud in sight. You have to admit, it’s a gorgeous day. 
Of course, it hadn’t started out that way. The first thing you had heard in the morning had been the unwelcome sound of your alarm, jolting you awake at the pleasant hour of six o’clock. It had taken all of your willpower to drag yourself out of bed after giving yourself a half hour leeway to snooze. It’d been two months since summer break first started and you really had gotten used to having the free time to laze around and relax, going to bed late at night and waking up whenever you pleased. Now, it’s the first day back at Uni, back to reality and it’s like being splashed by a bucket of ice cold water over your head.
The morning is a blur as you rush to get ready and leave on time after staying in bed a few minutes too long. This year you’re living with your childhood friend Mikasa again. The two of you had moved together from your hometown of Shiganshina for University two years ago, along with Eren and Armin, the other two in your tight knit friend group. You’ve managed to snag a small two bedroom townhouse close enough to Uni that you’ll be in close proximity to everything you need for the year. Even better, you’re lucky enough that Eren and Armin have managed to sign a lease for another unit right next door. It just feels right that all of you stick together, their presence a slice of home that you hold near and dear to your heart. Unlike you, Mikasa is a morning person. A note on your kitchen bench tells you she's already up at the gym and she'll be home later for dinner. You shake your head and make a face - that could never be you.  
You decide to take a detour on your walk to campus and the first thing you do when you leave your place is stop by your favourite coffee shop. There’s just no way to avoid it. You're going to need some caffeine today, something to breathe the life back into you. Honestly, you had been dreading this day since the start of your break, a persistent doomsday countdown always nagging in the back of your head. At this very moment, there’s nothing you want more than to be still in bed, dreaming away the morning with no responsibilities or stress. 
You have fifteen minutes until your first class starts by the time you make it to campus. Although the sprawling buildings are a familiar sight, a small knot of dread ties itself in your gut. You always forget how much you associate with a place until you’re back. Now that you're here again, you can't help but relive the past trauma. You pass by a bench you remember you sat on when you got your grades back for that one assignment you spent hours and lost years of your lifespan for, only to be rewarded with a sad B minus. A shiver rolls over your body at the memory - that was not a good day at all. The old faithful library where you’ve spent countless nights staring at your notes, willing the information to absorb into your brain, is ever present in your peripheral vision as you make your way across the great lawn. 
Laughter erupts from a group of students sitting on the grass a few metres away from you and tinny pop music blares from a small speaker next to them. Reunions are happening around you, arms being thrown around shoulders and chatter bubbling away as your peers catch up with each other after the weeks apart. Despite the apprehension of being back at Uni, you're also excited to finally reunite with some friends yourself. You glance down at your phone lock screen - five minutes to go. A light breeze rustles your hair as you hurry your pace towards your destination, the science building. 
You’re out of breath by the time you make it up the steps and push open the doors to the building. It’s your third year of being a biomedical science student at the University of Mitras and it never ceases to amaze you how large the campus can feel sometimes. There are always moments where you start getting used to the expansive grounds and then you’ll be caught off guard by a towering building with grand architecture and you’re reminded not to take things for granted. 
You bring your phone up to your face again to quickly check your room in your timetable. Room 201. A sigh of relief escapes you; you’ve had classes there before. Despite almost having lived in this area of campus for the past couple years with the number of hours you'd spent here, it’s still a maze of corridors and you know from experience it’s not hard at all to find yourself getting lost. You race up the stairs to the second floor and, always a creature of habit, you take your seat in the same spot as you always had - third row, furthest to the left. 
Voices chatter away in the room and your fellow students gradually pour in in a steady stream, taking their own seats. You exchange smiles and waves with the faces you recognise. Most of you have shared multiple classes with each other since by this point in your degree, you’re all pretty much on a similar track.
A warm smile, bright as sunshine, greets you across the room and you straighten in your seat, waving enthusiastically. Your friend, Historia, who you had met as lab partners last year hurries over to you. Grinning, she stops short in front of your desk, dropping her bag down on the seat next to you. 
“Oh my God! I missed you!” She squeals, arms flinging open wide to capture you in a hug. 
You get up and squeeze her tight in a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you again! How was your summer?” 
“It was great,” she sighs wistfully. “I wish it wasn’t over yet. How about you?”
She pulls her bag off her shoulder and sets it down on the desk next to yours. Sitting down, she begins pulling her laptop and iPad out of her bag to get ready for class. The two of you jabber away, catching up on the events of the past few months. Every summer since you moved to Mitras, you’ve gone back to your hometown to stay with your parents. Meanwhile, Historia had stayed in Mitras with her girlfriend Ymir and they’ve finally moved in together.
“Ymir let me decorate the whole place,” She giggles. “Even the bedding and couch cushions.”
“I bet it looks amazing,” You say sincerely. 
“You should come over and visit! We were thinking of doing a housewarming party now that everyone’s back in town.”
Excited by the idea, you eagerly nod in agreement. A party sounds like a great way to start off the new year. The lecture room looks like it’s finally filled with students and when you look towards the front, you see the short stature of your lecturer Levi Ackermann as he finishes getting set up for class. Silence falls across the room when he gently taps on the microphone, signalling for attention. 
“Alright class. This is Biology 310. It’s 9:00 am now so we’re going to get started. Anyone who’s not supposed to be in this class please leave now.” 
Levi carries on, outlining the content the course would be covering for the rest of semester. It all sounds pretty standard to you, having been in his classes before, but it's a definite step up in terms of course load. You’re already dreading the amount of study you’re going to need to do to make sure you don’t drown in stress by the time exams roll around. Straightening up, you make sure to pay extra attention when he starts explaining the grading structure, starting with a weekly pop quiz, followed by four tests spread out throughout the term.
“You will be pleased to hear there is no final exam for this course,” Levi’s low, gravelly voice travels across the room. 
Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you turn to Historia. No final exam? You mouth at her and she shrugs. 
“Instead, you will have a final project that will be comprised of findings from your labs over the next few months and a final presentation. This will be a group project in pairs of my choosing.” 
Dread fills your body at his words and you try not to sigh as you slump down in your chair. Group projects have got to be the worst thing ever, a torture form created by the gods of education just in case you weren’t already struggling enough in your academic pursuits. Even better is the fact that you won’t even be able to choose who to partner with. In every piece of collaborative work you’ve ever done, there’s always been that one asshole that refuses to do their part and you’ve always been the one to pick up the slack. 40% of your grade , you hear Levi say and you groan inwardly, already fearing for the worst.
At the podium, Levi presses a button on his laptop and the projector screen lights up with a chart filled with names, grouped together in twos. 
“This is who you will be partnered with for the rest of the semester. I don’t want to hear any whinging and moaning about this because I’ve planned everything deliberately. I’m going to call out your names, put your hand up when you hear yours so you know where they are. When I’m done you can move over to sit together.”
He starts listing off the names with haste, barely looking up to confirm the pairings have identified each other before moving on to the next. You’re tense with anticipation as you wait for him to call out your name, eager to find out who you would be working with. Finally, you hear him say your name into the microphone and you perk up.
“... you will be with Jean Kirstein.”
Hand in the air, you turn around searching for his location. Your eyes fall on a man with light brown hair in a shaggy mullet, sitting a few rows behind you in the middle. His eyes meet yours and his hand lifts to give a small wave. You point your finger at yourself then around to him, signalling that you would move back to him.
Quietly, you pack up your things into your bag and wait. When Levi finishes rattling off the names, you push back and scurry over to Jean’s desk, plopping down next to him. 
“Hey,” you begin, smiling warmly. You introduce yourself to him, holding out your hand for him to shake.  
He just blinks at you blankly before the edges of his lips lift in what honestly looks like a small grimace. “I’m Jean.”
“Nice to meet you, Jean,” you reply, smile a little strained now with his chilly reception. You drop your hand awkwardly and wipe your clammy palms on your thighs. “How exciting that we’re going to be partners, huh?”
Ice runs through your veins when Jean winces at your words, actually groaning out loud. “Yeah, great. We’re partners.”
What the hell? Although his reaction stings a little, you try to shake it off. You're a natural people pleaser and one of your fatal flaws is that you always want to give off a good impression and give people the benefit of the doubt. You clear your throat and reach for your phone. “Guess we’re going to be spending a lot of time together now. How about we swap numbers so we can get in contact with each other?” 
Jean gives a small nod and accepts the phone you’re offering to him. As he enters in his digits, you shift in your chair, a little uncomfortable with his cold demeanour.  
"So, what’s your major?” You ask, cautiously. 
“Biomed.”
“Oh, cool! Me too.” 
His eyes flicker up to meet you and he wordlessly hands back your phone. 
“You also pre-med?” You ask him.
He just nods in response. Your fingers tap a restless rhythm onto the desk surface, about ready to take flight. The low hum of voices fill the room as your fellow classmates get to know each other and prepare for the upcoming semester. The silence between you and Jean, however, is thick and unrelenting. You wonder what could possibly be his problem. Sure, you’ve seen him in classes before but you've never had the chance to interact. There’s no reason why he should be acting like such a dick towards you. It’s just your luck to be paired with the one person who seems to have something against you. Fuck group projects.
You sneak another glance at Jean sitting next to you. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs extended in front of him between his desk and the seat in front, taking up the walking space as if it belongs to him. He’s tapping away at his laptop keyboard and curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in a little closer to see his screen.
“What are you doing?” You ask, leaning your weight half off your seat as you crane your neck towards him. 
At your words, his head snaps to you and your eyes meet. Your breath catches in your throat. Somehow, you’ve ended up face to face with him and up close you feel like you’re really seeing him for the first time. His eyes are locked on yours - amber with flecks of light honey. The world seems to slow for a moment as you stare at him, all of a sudden a deer trapped in headlights. You blink and clear your throat, leaning further away from him until you feel safe enough from the magnetism of his presence. 
“Jean?”
He straightens. The faintest hint of pink tinges the tips of his ears. “W-what?”
“I asked you what you’re doing?”
“Oh.” He turns back to his laptop, shifting the screen slightly so it’s easier for you to see. “I was just making an outline for this class … so I know what assignments we have and when they’re due and stuff.” 
A quick glance reveals a tidy table with colour coded headings and columns, half filled with empty spaces yet to be filled. You can’t help but feel a little taken aback. True, you don’t know anything about him but from first glance with his worn jeans and scruffy shoes, table empty except for his laptop, no notebooks or stationery in sight, he doesn’t really seem like the organised, neat freak type to you. He must be able to read the surprise on your face because his lips tug down and he lets out a scoff. 
“What? Didn’t think I would be someone to take my studies seriously?”
Huh, the fuck? 
You recoil. In an instant your body becomes as rigid as ice while your wide eyes snap to him in shock. “No! Why would you say that?” you question him, completely flabbergasted.
He just shakes his head, the displeased expression remaining on his face. “Whatever.”
You just sit there dumbstruck, completely lost by what’s just happened. Did you miss something? Did you do something? Why does he hate you so much? Possible scenarios race through your mind of potential ways you could have offended him, but nothing sticks. There’s honestly nothing you can think of to warrant this reaction from him. 
In your head you try to hype yourself up (It’s just one project - you can do it!) but the unease remains as you slump into your chair and groan internally when you remember that yes it’s one project, but it's worth 40% of your grade. As a pre-med student, you feel the weight of every percent and you’re barely holding on as it is. A memory of your father lecturing you about the importance of your grades flashes in your mind and you wince. If your grades drop even slightly this year it's going to be all over for you. This predicament had the potential to well and truly be the straw that broke the camel’s back. 
At the front of the room, you watch as Levi leans forward into the microphone again. Your peers quieten around you when he speaks, his amplified voice booming from the speakers. 
“Alright guys. That’s all the time we have for today. First lab’s on Wednesday. Any problems, just email me.” 
At that, the tables around you burst in a flurry of movement as you all pack your things and get ready to move to your next classes. You shove your laptop into your tote bag and sling the straps over your shoulder. You’re about to get up when you pause, remembering Jean sitting next to you. Stiffly, you turn towards him and open your mouth, unsure of what to say to him. 
“Well … I’ll see you in the lab,” you manage awkwardly.
Jean shoots a quick glance at you and nods once. “Yeah, see you.” 
Alright then. You turn away with a grimace. A gut feeling tells you this semester is going to be a real shitshow. As you walk away, you try to conjure up happy thoughts in an effort to erase the dark cloud currently hanging over you. Ahead of you, Historia waves to get your attention as you make your way to the doorway and she waits patiently for you to catch up. 
“Bio 320 next?” She asks, linking arms with you and leaning her head onto your shoulder. 
“Yup. We’re lucky it’s just down the hall. Let’s go,” 
As you start walking, the phantom weight of a pair of eyes on the back of your head urges you to turn around. When you glance over your shoulder, you catch Jean staring at you. From the distance, you can't make out his expression, but he has his head resting in his hand with his arm leaning on his desk. His eyes lock on yours and you can tell there’s no smile on his face. Your legs root to the ground as you both freeze momentarily, eyes wide. He's the first to break, quickly snapping his head away to look down at his phone. You watch the way his hair falls to hang in front of his eyes and his leg bounces restlessly as he feigns interest in whatever is on his screen.
Historia tugs your arm, shaking you from where you stand frozen with your head pointed towards his direction. There’s a slight pinch when she pokes a sharp nail hard into your shoulder. You reach up to rub at the sore spot and shoot her a look.  
“Ow, what the hell?” You yelp, glaring daggers at her.
She rolls her eyes and pulls your arm again. It causes you to stumble a little in her direction. “Quit staring and let’s go.”
“I wasn't staring,” you grumble, but your feet finally unroot themselves and you follow her lead towards the next room. 
“Yes you were … and I don't blame you. You got so lucky getting paired with Jean Kirstein. He's so smart, you’re going to have such an easy time with this project.” Her eyes light up and there’s a cheeky lift to her lips when she speaks her next words. “Plus he's not bad on the eyes right?”
You make a face at her. “I don't feel very lucky right now. I think the guy has it out for me or something. What’s the point in being smart if you’re a righteous dick” 
Historia snickers. A hand comes up to cover her mouth when she sees your disgruntled look but it’s to no avail because she can’t stop giggling. “Trust you to get on his bad side already,” she says between her tittering. “I talked to him last year once in a lab and he seemed really nice.” 
You huff and pull away from her, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Great, so it’s personal then. For some reason, this Jean guy must actually genuinely dislike you. Whatever. It doesn't phase you. He can glare as much as he wants and do his best to intimidate you or whatever it is he seems to be trying but it won't matter. At the end of the day, you're here to do the work and get the grades and he can continue being his miserable self if he pleases.  
The two of you walk into your next class and take your seats. You sigh as you pull out your laptop again, settling in for another lecture. It's only the first day but you're already counting down the hours until you get to go home. 
By the time you get home after your first day, you’re exhausted. It always takes some time for you to adjust to the routine of sitting in hours of classes and labs when you first get back from break. You kick off your shoes and drop your bag down on the floor as you shut the door behind you. The aroma of cooking spices wafts around you, getting stronger and stronger until you see Mikasa standing in the kitchen. A pot filled with a thick liquid bubbles in front of her as she slowly stirs it with a wooden spoon.
“It smells delicious in here,” you tell her enthusiastically, waving your hands towards your nose as you do an exaggerated inhale. “Whatcha making?”
Mikasa looks over her shoulder and smiles. “Japanese curry and rice. Is that okay?”
“Of course! I’ll eat whatever you make, Chef.” You lean next to her and peer into the pot. “That looks good. Need any help?” 
She nudges your shoulder and slaps your hand away playfully when you reach for the spoon. She waves her hands, as if shooing away a fly hovering over a plate of food. “No, I’m fine. I’m pretty much done - just need to plate this up.” 
You put your hands up in mock surrender and back away. Reaching into the cupboards above you, you grab a couple plates and pass them to Mikasa. She accepts them gratefully and begins scooping enough food to satisfy your appetites.  
“How was your day?” You ask her as you both sit and dig in. Steam wafts from the curry, fresh off the stove and you’re careful to not let the hot food burn your mouth. “Mmm, this is really good Mikasa,” you say between mouthfuls.
She smiles. “Thanks. It was okay. Nothing exciting.” 
Like you, Mikasa had started off as a science student too, but had soon realised halfway through her first semester that it just wasn’t for her. With her natural talents in athletics and martial arts, she had chosen to change to physical education instead. A part of you always feels a little jealous when you think about how easily she had made the change and stuck to it once she had made up her mind. If only you could change your major too, or drop out altogether. The dark cloud is back as you think back to the day you've had today. Without meaning to, your shoulders slump and you sag a little as you pick at your food. A bit of curry splashes out of your bowl when you scoop a little too forcefully. 
Mikasa cocks her head to the side, looking at you with mild concern. “How about you?”
You roll your eyes and groan. “Where do I start … Got to my first class only to be told we have to do a stupid paired project and then of course my partner turns out to be a fucking weirdo who hates me for some reason.” 
“Yikes … What do you mean by "hates you”?” She asks, fingers coming up to form air quotes.
“I don’t know!” You exclaim. “I’ve literally never met the guy before but he was acting like I killed his cat or something. I’ve never had someone be so hostile towards me before.”
“Would he be anyone that I know?”
“No, I doubt it. His name’s Jean and he’s a biomed major like me. I don’t think you would have ever met him.”
Mikasa shovels another spoonful into her mouth and hums in thought as she chews. Her eyebrows furrow slightly and her chewing pauses momentarily. “Jean … kind of sounds familiar” she mutters. “But you’re probably right, I doubt I would have met him.”
You shrug and pull a face. There’s a clang of metal as your spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. “He’s an asshole that’s for sure,” you grumble. 
You finish off the last of your food and sit back, folding your arms over your chest. Across the table, Mikasa scrunches her nose at you as she eats. She’s scolded you in the past for eating too fast but it’s a bad habit picked up from having to fit in feeding yourself between cramming for exams. Her eyes study your sour face with humour as she swallows her mouthful. 
“Wanna watch something? I can ask Eren and Armin what they’re up to. Would that cheer you up?” 
Despite feeling a little like a child being given a new toy to distract from throwing a tantrum, you can’t help but brighten up a little at her proposal. A smile forms on your face and you nod enthusiastically. 
“Yes! Might as well since we have nothing to study yet anyway.” 
She claps her hands. “Okay then. Let me send a text to the group. I'm sure they're free.” 
new notification in the 3 musketeers + eren 
mama mika: where are you guys rn    eren 😎: Just got done at the gym.    Armin ☀️: How was your first day guys?   mama mika: come over? movie marathon    Armin ☀️: Oh no bad day?   You: im stuck with an asshole all semester :/// i’ll tell you more later You: only a binge session with my faves will save me    Eren 😎: K we’ll come.  Eren 😎: Do you have food though I'm starving    You: yeah mikasa made curry and it's chef's kiss   Eren 😎: oh sweeeeet that sounds good Eren 😎: When are you cooking again?   You: tomorrow :D why?   Eren 😎: Cool. Remind me to eat before I come over tomorrow    You: what the hell You: my food is great wtf you would be lucky to eat it   Eren 😎: [sent a photo] Eren 😎: Why you lyin   you: i hate you so much You: not like i offered anyway 🙄   you have changed the group name to eren hate club    Eren 😎: why   eren has changed the group name to eren fan club   you have changed the group name to eren hate club   Armin ☀️: Guys don't fight. We'll be there in 15   You: he started it  You: yayyyy :)))) can you bring snacks?   Eren 😎: We don’t have any   You: :(((( you: wasn't asking u, dickhead   Armin ☀️: We’ll grab some on the way!   You: :DDD you: ok then see you soon 😘 you: i wanna watch fast and furious
Eren sent a photo of a pot with spaghetti on fire from when you last cooked for the team. It's only happened once in your life but he won't let it go.
Why does jean hate reader so much? 🤔 Surely he’s not someone that would intentionally be a dick for no reason. Stay tuned!!!
taglist: @honeybleed @cptnleviackerman @310802 @milky-aeons
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