#and i wrote these papers like just bullshitting and writing whatever i felt like writing. like it rly was funsies for me

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 8: "Planting a Seed of Thought"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: I basically wrote this long ass monster today and NEEDED to get it up. So I hope it is edited enough and none of the writing is too awkward. Normally I edit vastly more before I share but I was too excited. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites

Making your way down the dimly lit hallway, your eyes were focused on the door at the far end. 'Nelson & Murdock' was no longer a paper sign taped to the door with their name written in Sharpie, but a proper, professional sign adhered to the glass of it. 

After a lot of hard work and frustration over the past few months, Foggy and Matt’s law firm had really managed to take off. It had all been thanks to the pair of them–along with Karen and apparently the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen–taking down Wilson Fisk. You'd watched for months on the sidelines as they struggled and many times almost lost hope that they'd ever succeed with getting Fisk arrested. You'd even endured the time fairly recently where the firm, and Matt and Foggy’s friendship, had briefly broken up. 

Those few weeks had been a very difficult few weeks for all of you. Even Karen had gradually grown closer to you during that time. And both Foggy and Matt had fallen back on you for support when they didn't have each other. You'd done your best to split your free time between the pair of them, but you'd never gotten a straight answer as to what had happened. All you knew was that it must have been bad if Foggy had been willing to end the friendship you'd watch grow over the years. And all Matt would ever tell you was that it was his fault, whatever it was, and to not be mad at Foggy.

The whole thing had seemed strange to you, especially because Matt had just been in a car accident when everything had happened. Your heart had broken when he’d stopped by to see you shortly after; you hadn’t heard the news ahead of time and it was a shock to see him limp into your apartment. Though something had seemed off about his flippant explanation of what happened, especially considering he’d been sporting bruises and cuts more and more frequently this past year. He’d told you they were because he was blind and clumsy and had gotten into a lot of accidents, but you had a feeling that was bullshit even if you never pushed for answers. Because he’d certainly not had that many accidents at Columbia. 

Yet again it hurt you that it felt like Matt was hiding something from you, something you were sure he’d have told you about back when you’d both been in college. You felt like he was drifting even further away from you. And that hurt.

As you came to a stop in front of the office, you knocked twice lightly on the glass of the door. Karen’s voice called out from behind it instantly, telling you to come in. You opened the door and stepped inside, immediately greeted with Karen’s bright smile from her place behind her desk. 

“Hey! Was wondering when you were going to show up,” Karen greeted you as she set aside a folder on her desk.

“I had to finish a few things up at the office before I could actually get out of there,” you told her, making your way over and sitting down in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk. “My boss loves to chat so I was sort of stuck listening to him ramble on about this problem he’d encountered coding–but I won’t bore you with the details. Needless to say, it took me a moment before I could find a way to slip out of the conversation.”

“Well we’re glad you’re here!”

You turned at the voice, spotting Foggy making his way out of his office. He was fiddling with his tie as he came over towards the pair of you, a smile on his face.

“And I hope you’re prepared to fight with Matt about places for takeout,” Foggy added. 

You laughed, adjusting your purse in your lap. “Fog, I’ve known you guys for a while. I already know how picky Matt is about exactly where we get food from.”

“Well he’s grown pickier since Columbia,” Foggy informed you.

"I'm not picky," Matt countered, appearing in the doorway of his office with a frown. "I just know what I like."

Your head turned in the opposite direction, taking in the sight of Matt leaning against the doorframe of his office. He was in a pair of dark dress slacks, his hands on his hips as he focused on Foggy. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, his thick and muscular forearms on display. He’d gotten new glasses recently you noticed–these ones had red lenses. 

"Yeah, that's called picky," Foggy quipped. 

The three of you laughed as a frown crossed Matt’s lips, an irritated huff escaping him. He was clearly not amused. 

"Well I for one am curious to see that billboard at your apartment Foggy told me about," you said, trying to change the subject for him. "I still haven't seen your place and you’ve been there for a bit now."

"Oh, it's obnoxious alright," Karen assured you. When she saw the confused look you gave her she added on, "The billboard, not the apartment."

Something stirred in your chest at her words, a twisting, uncomfortable feeling. Matt was a private person and you knew he didn't let people into his space easily. He’d always been like that. You'd known Foggy had been to his apartment often after Matt had moved out–it was a given considering how close they were–but you hadn't known Karen had been there. Especially when you never had been invited in the almost year since he'd been living there. 

"You've been to Matt's?" Foggy asked, rounding on Karen in surprise.

"Well, yeah," she answered. "Back when you guys took my case? The night the man in the mask saved me?"

You saw Foggy shoot Matt a quick look and you frowned, wondering what that had been about. But then Karen continued on and you weren't expecting what she said next.

"And we uh, did date,” Karen admitted, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Briefly.”

Foggy gasped beside you as your hands tightened on the straps of your purse. Your mouth felt like it had gone dry as you stiffened in the chair. Matt had dated Karen?

“When the hell did that happen?” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair of them. “How did I not even catch that?”

“It was a little bit ago,” Karen answered.

“For a couple weeks,” Matt added.

Fingernails digging into the faux leather of your purse, you fought the burn of tears in your eyes. He’d dated her? She’d been his friend–and his employee–yet he’d still asked her out? Slept with her? But yet you remained nothing but his friend, one that was steadily drifting away from him?

Would he really give everyone but you a second look?

“Realized we were just better as friends,” Karen said with a shrug.

Her attention landed on you over her desk and you saw the way her blue eyes narrowed curiously at your expression. Her sharp eyes lingered as if she had noticed the change in the way you were acting now since you’d come in. Swallowing hard, you forced a smile back onto your face before you rose from your seat. It was going to be difficult walking back to your place with Karen after this; you found yourself wishing you hadn’t planned that with her this morning. After learning that all you wanted to do was go home and stay there. Maybe cry alone on your couch. You didn’t want to make conversation with Karen right now, and you certainly didn’t want to go to Matt’s and have dinner with everyone. 

What you wanted was to rip your heart out and stop feeling what you felt for Matt once and for all.

“I should probably get back to my place and change if I’m going to be on time later,” you said, voice quivering a bit.

Karen slowly pushed her chair back, rising to her feet and smoothing down her dress. Why did she have to be so beautiful? That only made everything hurt even more right now.

“I’ll come with, like we talked about earlier,” Karen announced.

“Great,” you said stiffly.

You made your way around the chair, your eyes avoiding Matt and Foggy. You knew Foggy was just standing there giving you his usual sympathetic look after the news Karen had just dropped. You really didn’t need to see that look on his face right now. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you said, eyes focusing on your feet.

You heard Karen’s heels clicking along after you on the floor, both of you making your way towards the exit as Karen said her goodbyes. But the pair of you stopped when Matt spoke up, saying your name. You froze at his voice, your head swiveling nervously towards him. He was still leaning against the doorframe to his office, his brows furrowed behind his dark glasses. His arms were crossed over his chest now as he focused on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you wondered how the hell he’d even noticed something was off. It’s not like he could see the look on your face like Karen had. Once again you forced the strained smile back onto your lips as you looked back at him, hoping the smile would somehow show through in your voice.

“Yeah, I just had a rough day at work,” you lied.

Matt’s head tilted to the side at your words, his lips drawing into a thin line. Somehow his brows had dropped even lower behind his glasses, a deep crease forming on his forehead.

“I’ll see you later though, Matty,” you said in a rush.

Picking up your pace, you ducked your head and darted out of the office. Karen sped up behind you in a hurry to catch up.

The walk back to your place with Karen had been interesting to say the least. You’d practically power-walked the entire way back while she struggled to keep up with you. Every time she asked if you were okay, you only increased your pace. You didn’t want to talk about this with her because you swore she’d seen the look on your face back at the office and had already pieced things together. But when you’d finally gotten to your apartment and she’d followed you inside, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid her prying questions. 

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Karen asked as she closed the door behind herself.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you slipped your dress flats off and set them on your shoe rack. You turned, making your way towards your bedroom as Karen followed after you.

“I just was in a hurry to get back and get changed,” you told her. “Didn’t want to get slowed by the usual evening foot traffic.”

You made your way over to your dresser, pulling a drawer open and grabbing out a pair of jeans. Karen stepped into your bedroom, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting you a pointed stare. 

“Okay, let’s say I believe that bullshit,” Karen replied bluntly. “What was with that look back at the office?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning ignorance.

You tossed your jeans onto your bed and then made your way towards your closet, sliding the door open. Biting your bottom lip, you tried to focus on finding a shirt as Karen stepped further into your bedroom.

“The look back at the office,” she clarified. “When I’d said I’d been to Matt’s and that we’d– Oh .”

Breath catching in your throat, you stared even more intensely at your wardrobe hanging in your closet. She’d certainly figured it out now.

“You like Matt, don’t you?” she asked, her tone abruptly softening.

“We–we’ve been friends for a while, so yeah,” you answered, still refusing to look at her. “Obviously I like him.”

“No,” Karen said.

You heard her briskly closing the distance between the pair of you before you felt her hands reaching out, landing on your shoulders and turning you to face her. Chewing your lip even more nervously, you saw the realization in her wide blue eyes. And then seconds later–there it was. That same fucking look Foggy always gave you. It immediately drew tears to your eyes.

“Stop it, Karen,” you warned her.

“How did I not see it before?” she asked. “You like him. As more than a friend.”

“No,” you replied, your voice cracking on the word as you swiftly shook your head. “No, he’s just my best friend.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t have–wouldn’t have gone on those dates with him if I’d known you liked him.”

“I–I don’t like him,” you said weakly.

Karen sent you a sad smile, her hands still gripping your shoulders. You felt a tear slip down your cheek and you abruptly wiped it away with the back of your hand. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Karen replied. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

A loud sniffle fell out of you, your eyes dropping down to your bedroom floor. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to control the threat of tears. How many times had you already cried over Matt since you met him now?

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ve…been in love with him for years.”

Karen gasped audibly at your confession, her hands tightening on your shoulders. You sniffed again, blinking rapidly and trying to force the tears back down.

“And he doesn’t know?” she asked.

You shrugged lamely, still refusing to meet her eyes. “Foggy does, but I don’t know about Matt,” you answered. “I’ve never told him, but I’d flirted with him in the beginning. Or at least, I thought I had. I’m not really good at it,” you admitted. “Not with him, at least. But he’s never taken an interest in me. He goes out on so many dates, I’m sure if he actually liked me he’d have asked me out by now. I just–” you paused, fighting hard to keep your voice even, “–just have never been good enough for a second look from him. He’s always wanted everyone but me. And I’m just–just passed over.”

Karen said your name gently, trying hard to catch your eye. Slowly you looked up, meeting her eyes with your own. 

“Maybe he just doesn’t know,” she told you. 

Panic flooded you instantly, your eyes going wide at what you thought she was saying. 

“I’m not going to tell him I’m in love with him!” you exclaimed. “And neither are you! That would kill our friendship in a second!”

“Well, you don’t exactly know that ,” Karen replied. “But okay, if you won’t just tell him, why not try to flirt instead?”

Mouth dropping open, you stared at Karen in complete shock. She wanted you to flirt with Matt? Not only did that sound ridiculous, you didn’t exactly know how to flirt with him. Because if he’d been unaware of your attempts before, he certainly still would be now.

“I can’t flirt, Karen,” you told her. “Not with him. My brain short-circuits if I try. And if he didn’t catch on before–if that’s even remotely the reason–he’s definitely not going to now.”

“I’ll help you flirt!” she said brightly. “He caught on when I flirted with him.”

Your face instantly fell at her words, your heart dropping to your stomach. You didn’t need a reminder of that right now.

Catching on to what she’d just said, her eyes went wide again as she quickly shook her head. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean it like that. But hey, for the record?” she continued in a rush. “Nothing happened between us. I mean, we kissed like twice but that was it. Nothing more than that, okay? We just didn’t work together. We both realized that.”

“Right,” you mumbled awkwardly.

“Look, he viewed me like a friend for a while, too,” Karen told you. “Until I started more openly flirting with him. Try to compliment him. Maybe touch his arm a few times or something–that’ll certainly catch his attention.”

“Or make him think I’m being absolutely weird,” you said. “I don’t compliment Matt unless we’re having heart to hearts. And I definitely don’t just touch his arm.”

“Well there you go!” she chirped. “He’ll pick up on something then tonight.”

“Wait,” you began, panic flooding you yet again. “You want me to flirt with him tonight ? Where you and Foggy can witness my terrible attempts?”

Karen shrugged a shoulder easily. “I don’t think they’ll be terrible attempts, but why wait? Do you want to risk losing your chance?” she countered.

Shoulders dropping, you realized she had a point. Matt often worked fast with finding a new fling or someone to take on a date. And it’s not like you saw him frequently enough to know you’d have another opportunity soon.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “I’ll try to flirt with him tonight.”

“Great!” Karen replied, a wide smile spreading over her lips. “I’m excited to see how it goes!”

“That makes one of us,” you grumbled, focusing back on your closet.

Karen knocked on Matt’s apartment door as you stood next to her, trying hard to focus on your breathing. You felt like you were going to be sick with the way your nerves were fluttering in your stomach. You didn’t even think you’d be able to eat the meal you’d all be ordering tonight with the way it was churning and twisting. The thought of flirting with Matt had you wanting to turn back around and throw up in the elevator as more and more thoughts raced through your mind.

What if he didn’t catch on at all to what you were doing? Which seemed likely because you were terrible at flirting with him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that he’d flirt back because you didn’t know what to expect–and you didn’t want to be let down.

Or what if he did catch on but you made him uncomfortable because you were supposed to just be his friend? Would it ruin the friendship entirely? And you’d just lose Matt forever? You didn’t even want to think about that.

But just as nerve wracking–what if he flirted back? Did it mean he liked you, too? What the hell happened after that? Did you ask him out?

By the time Matt finally opened his apartment door, you felt like you were inching closer and closer to a panic attack. It didn’t help that he looked handsome in a dark green tee-shirt and jeans. He’d left his glasses off, too, giving you a full view of his entire face. It had been awhile since you’d seen him without them on since he always wore them in public. And you hadn’t exactly been invited into Matt’s private space in such a long time yourself.

It hurt to remember that, too.

“Hey, Matt!” Karen greeted him brightly. 

“Glad you made it, Karen,” Matt greeted her with a smile.

Trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth to speak. “Hey, Matty,” you said, wincing at how odd your voice came out.

You saw Matt’s head tilt to the side, the corner of his lip briefly twitching. But then he greeted you with a smile and your name before inviting you both inside. Karen stepped inside first and you followed after her, but as you slipped past Matt where he was holding the door open, your arm almost brushed against his chest and you’d quickly darted away from him before you accidentally touched him, eyes wide and terrified.

Karen had been at the end of the entryway hall and saw the entire awkward moment. She shot you a stern look as Matt closed the door. You swore she mouthed the words ‘stop freaking out’ before you felt Matt bump into you from behind. Jumping in surprise, you nearly flew out of your skin as you backed into the wall. Matt’s head instantly spun towards you, a curious and confused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were standing there,” he said.

“No, it uh, it was my fault,” you said awkwardly. “Shouldn’t uh, shouldn’t just be standing in a hallway.”

Matt continued to stare at you for a long moment, his hazel eyes scanning questioningly around your face. Biting your cheek, you shot him a sheepish smile even though you knew he couldn’t see it. 

“Are you sure you’re alright today?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked quickly.

“You seem…off,” he said slowly.

“Nope, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head as Karen mouthed something to you behind Matt that you didn’t catch. “I’m definitely not off today, I’m certainly on.”

Even you cringed at how stupid you’d just sounded, watching as Karen’s eyes slowly closed. Flirting with Matt was a horrible idea. This wasn’t going to work out. You should probably stop before you even tried and ended up truly embarrassing yourself.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly, that unsure look on his face. “Well, Fog is already here so if you want to come in, we can figure out what to eat so we can place an order.”

Matt continued his way down the hall and you followed behind him, internally cursing yourself for how awkward you were becoming around him. It's like all those years you'd spent with him at Columbia had disappeared and you'd suddenly become a stupid, bumbling school girl with a crush. 

The moment you entered the living room, you spotted Foggy sitting on one of the chairs facing the leather couch Matt had opposite his coffee table. Foggy’s gaze immediately locked onto you, his eyes going wide when he did. You watched as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across it rapidly. Brows drawing together in confusion, your focus shifted to the large industrial windows to your right–and then your jaw dropped.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about it being obnoxious,” you blurted.

“What?” Matt asked, pausing on his way to the kitchen.

“Sorry–the billboard,” you explained quickly. “The billboard is obnoxious. I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be so…”

“Obnoxious?” Matt supplied, a cheeky grin on his mouth.

You felt yourself flush as your attention shifted to him, cheeks burning partially from embarrassment and partially from how incredibly sexy he looked with that little grin on his mouth. Why couldn't he just become unattractive one of these days to make things easier on you? 

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

In your pocket you felt your phone vibrate, the feel of it catching your attention. Frowning, you glanced down and slipped it out.

“You two want a beer?” Matt asked as he opened his fridge.

“Absolutely!” Karen called out from where she’d settled into the chair beside Foggy’s.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, distracted by the text you’d received.

It was from Foggy, which had further confused you since he was sitting in the room with you. You didn’t understand why he’d texted you until you’d read what was written in the message.

6:37 PM Foggy:  Dude, what are you doing???? You’re being so gd AWKWARD.

Biting your lip, you quickly typed up a response to Foggy and sent it. 

6:38 PM: Karen knows. She told me I should flirt with him tonight. I’m TERRIFIED.

You shot Foggy a meaningful look as you made your way around the couch, aware that he and Karen had conveniently left you the spot where you’d have to sit beside Matt. And as you took your seat, you saw Matt making his way over with two beers in his hands. He handed one off to Karen when she alerted him to where she was sitting on one of the chairs, and you’d been about to acknowledge him until you saw Foggy reading your text and typing up a response again. It wasn’t until Matt turned towards the couch, saying your name in a form of question as he focused on the space just beside you, that you’d realized you’d forgotten to catch his attention.

“Sorry, I'm zoning out,” you apologized, reaching forward to accept the beer from Matt. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replied.

Matt took a seat next to you, sitting closer to you than you’d anticipated, though you figured it was unintentional. It's not like he could see how close he'd sat. Across the coffee table, Karen raised her brows at you before her eyes darted pointedly over at Matt a few times. Ducking your head, you nervously drew the beer to your lips and downed a few sips. 

What the hell were you even supposed to say? How were you supposed to flirt with him? Especially with her and Foggy watching you like this so closely. They were only making you even more uncomfortable and awkward. You were so close to just aborting the entire plan.

Your phone vibrated on your lap as it received Foggy’s next text, breaking through your nervous thoughts. Matt cleared his throat beside you on the couch almost immediately afterwards, the noise startling you as he shifted beside you. As he moved, he spread his legs further open and his knee almost bumped into yours. Your eyes were glued to that minute distance between both of your legs, wondering how weird it would be if you just brushed your leg against his.

“So, should we figure out dinner before we lose track of time?” Matt asked.

Drawn out of your thoughts, your attention shifted down to your phone. As the three of them began discussing food options, you opened your text from Foggy.

6:43 PM Foggy:  OMG just tell him! Put us both out of our misery already and TELL HIM.

Glancing up from your phone, you caught Foggy’s eye. He sent you a very pointed look and you shook your head quickly. Out of your peripheral, you saw Matt’s head turn just a little in your direction as Karen was listing off options of nearby places that delivered. You panicked at that little movement, feeling almost like Matt knew something was going on.

But that was ridiculous. You were just being paranoid because you were freaking out about the prospect of flirting with him tonight. That was all.

Karen called your name across the room, catching your attention. Eyes darting up, you glanced over at her with brows raised. 

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked. 

She shot you an apologetic smile before she listed off the names of restaurants again. You were becoming increasingly aware of the way Matt was now focused directly on you as you listened to her. His sightless gaze was sending your heart into overdrive as he seemingly just stared at your chest. What the hell was he doing?

“So what sounds good to you?” Karen asked.

“Oh, uh–” 

Movement across from you had you glancing back over at Foggy. For some reason he'd sat forward in his chair, some strange expression crossing his face as he watched Matt closely beside you. He seemed to snap out of it though when he saw you staring. 

"Uh, why don't we just–just do one of the pizza places?" you asked Karen distractedly, brows now furrowing at Foggy. "We all like pizza, right?"

"I'm in," Foggy agreed quickly, nodding his head at Karen.

"I'm good with pizza," Karen said slowly, shooting Foggy a strange look before she focused on Matt. "What about you, Matt?"

You turned, looking at Matt where he sat beside you. His focus was still on your chest, his expression one of intense concentration. Nervous, you felt your palms beginning to sweat, your heart racing as that ever so familiar fight or flight sensation slowly began to kick in. If he didn’t stop doing that soon, you were probably going to bolt out of his apartment and run home. You were already terrified at the prospect of trying to find a way to work in touching his damn arm , you didn’t need him staring at you like that, too. 

“Matt?” Karen asked again.

Matt startled on the couch, his head whipping in the direction of Karen’s voice. 

“Hmm?” he asked her.

“Are you good with pizza?” she repeated.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he answered. “Wherever is fine.”

Lips parting in surprise, you and Foggy instantly met each other’s eyes, the pair of you sharing a look. That was odd for Matt. He would have usually had more to say about food–what pizza place to pick depending on the day of the week, for starters. Which never made any goddamn sense to you or Foggy, but Matt was generally always adamant. His disinterest was…strange.

Karen abruptly rose out of the chair, her focus on her phone. “I’m going to step into the kitchen and order the pizza then,” she announced. “Foggy? You think you could help? I always have trouble with this app.”

Foggy’s head snapped over to Karen, a look of confusion on his face. He opened his mouth to question her, but Karen glanced up from her phone and shot him a purposeful look.

“Right, yeah, I can help,” Foggy said, rising swiftly from his chair. “They uh, they updated their app it’s–it’s a pain even for me to navigate now.”

He laughed, the sound awkward as he followed behind Karen over to the kitchen. That’s when it hit you that they’d intentionally left you alone on the couch. With Matt. Your focus instantly dropped down to your beer, your fingers nervously drumming along the bottle. Now was a good time to try flirting since you didn’t have an audience, but you felt like you’d suddenly lost your grasp on the English language.

“How’s work been?” Matt asked, turning a bit towards you on the couch.

“It’s been alright,” you answered a little shyly. “Busy. Stressful. How’s the law firm doing?”

“Good,” he replied. “Also busy and stressful.”

You looked up at him from beneath your lashes. He was smiling at you and you felt your heart nearly skip a beat at the sight. His head tilted to the side just a bit, the corners of his eyes twitching ever so faintly. 

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked slowly.

Licking your lips nervously, you tried to think of how to turn this into something flirtatious before Karen and Foggy inevitably meandered back to the living room. “I’ve been good, but I–I do miss seeing you and Fog.”

Before you could overthink the gesture and convince yourself not to do it, your right hand darted out and landed on Matt’s shoulder. You felt him instantly tense under the contact and you didn’t know what to make of that. Had you startled him? Did he not like this? Had he realized you were making some sort of move on him and you’d made him uncomfortable?

“I miss spending time with you, too,” he admitted. 

He was still tense beneath your touch and your mind was racing. Did you leave your hand there? Touch him somewhere else? Uproot and move to Mars? 

Why was this so goddamn hard ?

Glancing over to the kitchen, you saw Karen and Foggy staring at you over Karen’s phone. Both of them had wide eyes as they gawked at the pair of you. Karen’s eyes aggressively gestured to Matt. You could practically hear her in your head telling you to compliment him. 

“So how have–have you been?” you asked, your hand still resting on his shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been going to the gym more since Columbia.”

As the words left your mouth, you felt like your soul also left your body. Had you just complimented him on his muscles like that ? That was so incredibly not smooth. That was the furthest thing from a good compliment that you probably could have given him. You wished you could punch yourself in the face when you heard Matt’s amused chuckle in response. Internally you were screaming as your hand immediately recoiled from his shoulder.

“I suppose you could say that,” he answered. “Work has certainly been stressful and I’ve often needed an…outlet.”

“Right, yeah,” you said, shifting on the couch and intentionally sliding a bit away from Matt. “That makes sense.”

His head further canted to the side, the smile on his lips gradually falling away as he focused on you. You drew the beer to your lips, drinking more of it down as you glanced over the back of the couch. Foggy and Karen were staring at you like they’d just witnessed a horrific car accident. You sent them a look that was a clear cry for help as you lowered the beer from your lips. Thankfully they headed back out of the kitchen, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

“Well the pizza should be about forty-five minutes,” Karen announced as she settled back in the seat.

“Great,” you replied.

The sooner you ate, the sooner you could leave. You did not think you could do this flirting thing much more tonight.

Karen and Foggy had opted to leave when you had announced your departure from Matt’s shortly after finishing dinner. The two of them were clearly desperate to walk part of the way home with you so they could bug you about how the night had gone, which was why you’d been surprised when Foggy had almost immediately locked Karen into a conversation about work as soon as you’d all left Matt’s place. He’d enthusiastically kept up the conversation for a couple of blocks before it had suddenly fizzled out. That’s when the pair of them broke you from your moping thoughts and focused on you.

“What even was that back there?” Foggy asked. “I’ve seen you be vastly more charming than that.”

“Yeah,” you shot back, “with guys that aren’t Matt I can be.”

“And what was that compliment?” Foggy continued. “Were you going to ask him how to get a discounted gym membership next?”

Your cheeks heated at his comment as you threw your hands over your face and groaned. “It was awful, I know!” you whined.

“All you had to do was say ‘Hey Matt, you’re looking real good lately’,” Foggy told you. “Literally, that’s it!”

“Fog, stop, you’re not helping,” Karen chastised.

Foggy rounded on Karen next. “Do you know how long I’ve watched her pine after Matt?” he asked her. “And now tonight she finally decides to try to flirt with him? I thought this was it! This was the night my two best friends got together and the pining would be over!”

Hands dropping to your sides, you focused on your feet as you continued to trudge along beside them. “Sorry to disappoint,” you told him. “But I think it’s safe to say Matt is not interested.”

“Why do you say that?” Karen asked curiously.

Your attention shifted to Karen next to you, your eyes meeting hers. “Because that back there?” you said flatly, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder. “That’s not how I usually act around Matt. That was more flirty than I’d even been when I’d first met him–which yes, is sad because that was an awful excuse for flirting back there. But if he didn’t respond to any of that tonight, then clearly he’s not interested.”

“She has a point,” Foggy said with a sigh on the other side of Karen. “She’s never been like that with him before. Not that I’ve seen at least. If Matt was picking up something from her and felt the same, he certainly wasn’t doing a good job reciprocating.” He leaned around Karen, shooting you that goddamn sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re right.”

“Not like I didn’t already know he only liked me as a friend,” you replied, tears stinging at your eyes. “I’ll just forever be the one woman in New York City Matt won’t date. Or even try to hook up with.” You felt a few warm tears slide down your cheeks, biting your tongue to fight back the sob threatening to fall out of you. “I’m just–just so tired of feeling like this,” you whispered. “Of crying over him. It’s been years of this. And I can’t–can’t make it stop.”

“Maybe…cut him out of your life?” Karen hesitantly suggested. 

Your eyes widened as your gaze flew to hers beside you. “Just–just stop being his friend?” you asked in disbelief.

She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, if it’s hurting you this much for that long, and it’s not going anywhere with him and you’re not getting over him with anyone else…maybe it’s something to consider?” she said gently.

“I don’t think I could ever stop being his friend,” you admitted, shaking your head. “Not while I’m in New York.”

“You know,” Karen continued, that hesitant tone back, “I really don’t want to suggest this, but if that’s the case…have you ever thought about leaving?”

Your feet faltered on the sidewalk, Foggy and Karen coming to a stop with you. Foggy was shaking his head at Karen vehemently, wagging a finger at her.

“No, you’re not suggesting she leaves Hell’s Kitchen,” Foggy told her. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Karen agreed, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear as she focused on him. “I’d rather she never leave either. But I mean…do you like knowing that she’s hurting this much? For all of this time?” Karen’s blue eyes shifted back to you. “Are you even happy?” she asked.

You opened your mouth, about to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. Because the answer was no, you weren’t. Not really. Sure, you liked your job. You had friends you enjoyed spending time with. And you really loved New York City–even Hell’s Kitchen had really come to grow on you since graduation.

But deep down you wanted Matt. It was a constant, neverending ache right in the center of your chest. All of the dates you’d ever gone on since meeting him had eventually failed before they could become anything more because no one else was Matt. They couldn’t compare. You couldn’t get him out of your head long enough to really see someone else. Even with Liam, one of the only relationships you’d had in years, you had been constantly comparing him to Matt. But you’d tried really hard to be happy with him, and yet ultimately that relationship had ended in disaster. 

“I’m just saying,” Karen said softly, her eyes on you, “it’s an idea. If you’re really not happy, if it’s that difficult for you to move on past Matt, you could always leave New York. It’s not like you couldn’t come visit us, too. But I can see it on your face.” Her hand reached out, landing on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re hurting. And you really shouldn’t have to live like that.”

Wiping the back of your hands across your cheeks, you tried to wipe away your tears. With a sniffle you continued on again, both Karen and Foggy falling back in step with you on the sidewalk.

“It’s a thought, I suppose,” you muttered. “But I don’t really want to leave New York.”

“And you don’t have to,” Foggy assured you.

The chilly evening air bit at the tear tracks on your cheeks as the three of you neared the end of the block. It was the point in which you’d all soon part ways to head back to your own apartments. Beside you, Karen let out a deep sigh. 

“It was merely a suggestion,” she stated. “That’s all.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock series #matt murdock #matt murdock fic

[imashoe69420]

Those Eyes: Rise! Leo x OC

Chapter 2

Just to mention that Lala and Leo are 14 in this part of the fanfic, hence the turtles trying to stop The Foot from getting the pieces to the Shredder armor. Throughout this (if I can stay committed to this for as long as I plan to lmao), they will age from 14-18 and I will be sure to mark the time skips.

Also, Lala’s apartment is supplied by The Foot. She ain’t got the $$ for that at 14 lmfao

ALSO, I don’t think I’ll be writing in specifically Leo’s POV. I love the way the RotTMNT writers wrote him and I don’t wanna attempt to write his inner thoughts and feelings in his perspective when his character and how he processes his emotions is still up in the air on account of the show being canceled before he reached his true character arch (along with the psychology videos I’ve been watching on him. They’re all great but still just assumptions and none of them are done by the writers. If the writers/creators have made any social media posts about his psychology, please feel free to point me towards them). So I’ll be writing in the third person for him throughout the fic, especially if I get to the point where he’s older than the movie version of himself. My fear is miswriting him and not making him true to his character in the show. I hate reading fanfics that make me go “they would never say/do that” and I’m sure most of you guys do too. I’m sure I’m looking too far into this but I want all my writings of pre-existing characters to be as accurate as possible. Thank you for reading and enjoy the fic! Also pay attention to the warnings this chapter!

（＾∇＾）

Warnings: Mild Language, manipulation, trauma maybe?

——————————

L͟a͟l͟a͟’̲s͟ P͟.̲O͟.̲V͟.̲

In my apartment, I unwrap an unpopped bag of popcorn and throw it into the microwave and set it for two (2) minutes and twenty (20) seconds. I trudge over to the couch and grab the remote, turning on the TV and flicking on a random movie on Netflix. It didn’t matter what is was. The Foot Lieutenant and Brute will be over soon and I’ll be in so much trouble.

That mutant. They had told me a while ago about him and three other ones who looked like him. Something about “high-jacking their plans” and them being “incessant adolescence”. Whatever that means. Overall, they made them seem like our enemies.

But if they’re so awful, why would one of them save me?

For hours, I’d been thinking about the one with those bright red stripes down his face and the blue bandanna. When he had saved me, he looked at me strangely, and I’m pretty sure I looked at him the same way. It felt like I had stared at him for minutes after I said “thank you”.

He had this look in his eyes I can’t get out of my head. At first, there was a cocky grin when the Paper Ninjas first turned to shreds, but then I moved my hair to get a better look at him and we made eye contact. They contained this… surprised expression almost. I couldn’t really read him well. I first tried to brush it off and act like he was a hero doing hero shit. I finally gave in after the looks began to consume all my thoughts.

These thoughts are obsessive. I kept thinking about what else I could’ve said. Maybe “who are you?” Or “what are you?” Or “I’ve heard of you.”—anything to keep him talking to me so I could know what all this bullshit about “those blasted turtles” was about—but all those outcomes led to him leaping onto the rooftop and running away from me in my own mind.

What’s wrong with me? Why is he in my head? I’ve never thought about someone like this.

Suddenly, there’s an aggressive knock on my door followed by the microwave going off. Looks like they’ve picked up on my routine.

I sigh as I stand up and walk over to the door. I slowly turn the knob and barely open it before the Foot Lieutenant pushes the door open, forcing his way in. The Foot Brute follows closely behind.

“Yeah, screw my privacy, I guess.” I say sarcastically as the Lieutenant brushes past me further into my apartment as the Brute slams the door behind him.

“The privacy that we gave to you because you refused to live in the base.” The Lieutenant says harshly.

I roll my eyes. “Because it’s filthy there. You say I’m one of your best assets but you want me to live in a cockroach infested single room. That’s prison.”

He quickly approaches me until his face is inches away from mine. “No. The best asset. So much so that I offered you an official ceremony that you so rudely refused. I should be more angry about this, but you’ve done something else nearly unforgivable.”

I shrink away slightly, bowing my head and crossing my arms. I hate it when he gets like this. I don’t take either one of these men seriously, but I’ve never liked people being this close to me. Especially when I’m in trouble like this.

“I’ve done nothing.”

“‘Nothing’, you say?” He chuckles darkly, the Brute taking my popcorn out of the microwave and stuffing his face. Goddamnit, that was my last pack.

Unable to continue speaking due to my heart nearly beating out of my chest, I stand still, avoiding his angry glare. He finally backs away, but I can still feel his gaze burning into my forehead.

“The recruits searching for you said you made contact with one of the turtles and didn’t plan on reporting back to anyone, nor try to stop him, nor try to get any useful information out of him. Why?” I jump as he slams his hand on the kitchen counter. “The turtles are our enemies! They are prolonging and distracting us from our main goal: to bring back Master Shredder. I’ve told you about them, so why didn’t you do at least one the most simple things I’ve asked you to do when you see them or make contact with them?”

I only shrug. I wish I did, I think, but not for any of your purposes.

“You don’t know…” he chuckles at the Brute and points his thumb in my direction. The Lieutenant looks back into my direction with a smirk on his face, the flame upon his head writhing in frustration. “Tell me, Lala, are you siding with the enemy? After all we’ve done for you? After we took you in all those years ago and taught you everything you know to this day? Are you planning to betray us?”

After a few seconds, I shake my head and mumble, “I don’t even know him. Or any of them. And I’ve never denied the things you’ve done for me.”

The Lieutenant approaches me again and places his hand on my shoulder. “Listen, child, we are so close to our goal. You may feel like you can’t do the things you want to do in this very moment, but when we bring back The Foot’s true leader, you will be able to do whatever you please.” He lifts my chin with his pointer and index finger to force me to look up at him. “We will rule all. We will be all powerful. People around the world will cower at the mention of our names. But to achieve this, we must get rid of everything and everyone who interferes. Including the turtles.”

I had thought about that possibility recently as the Foot Lieutenant talked more and more about it. Yes, it would be nice to be able to do whatever I wanted. Maybe even have people do things for me. But I couldn’t bare the thought of people—everybody—being afraid of me.

The farthest back I clearly remember was when I was ten-ish (10-ish). I remember being in elementary school in class. There was a girl in there I had been friends with for a few weeks and I wanted to invite her over to my house, which was the living facility in the Foot Clan base. She made me realize how filthy it was: the roaches, the occasional mouse, the exposed leaky pipes.

The following day, I saw the entire fifth (5th) grade class surrounding her desk as she talked about the conditions of my home. When she saw me, she audibly gasped, which caused the whole class to turn to me and quickly disperse. I feel like most people would be more concerned about the fact that their business was being spread around, but I was upset at her and the class’s reaction to me walking in.

Did they expect me to not come to school? To be so ashamed that I hide away and never show my face again? How was I supposed to know those conditions weren’t adequate when that was the only place I had lived since before I could remember?

Anyway, ever since then, people acted like I was one of those mice that would crawl around my room and make nests in my walls. They avoided me up until middle school, but that was only because most of my class had gone to other middle schools because the school zoning had changed.

The girl who had snitched to my class went to my middle and now in my high school. We don’t talk or even really look at each other. She’s knows what she did to me and she feels guilty, I used to think. But now I think she’s still afraid of me.

I never had the urge to befriend anybody else since then. I don’t talk to anybody in any of my classes. I just pop my AirPods in and silently read when I have free time. I just don’t think I could go through something like that again. I also demanded for my own space and have had my own apartment since.

I’ve never told anybody this, especially on account that I had snuck her in in the first place. The avoidance I experienced was purely my fault.

“Tell me that this will never happen again.” The Lieutenant demands from me. “And I will forget this ever happened.”

I shrug his hand away and stare at my bare feet. “It’ll never happen again…” I say barely above a whisper.

Without another word, he and the Brute walk out of my apartment.

I rush to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet. That memory always makes me feel queasy.

After I feel like it’s over, I stand to my feet and try to pull myself together while staring into the mirror. I take several deep breaths before my attention is directed onto the metal ring around my neck. It’s been there forever. I’ve tried to pry it off, but nothing has worked so far and nobody will tell me what it’s there for in the first place. It makes me feel queasy too, but I resist the urge to throw up again. I need fresh air.

With that final thought, I open the bathroom window and hop onto the fire escape. This night, I hope to forget everything and live freely for the night.

•••

T͟h͟i͟r͟d͟ P͟e͟r͟s͟o͟n͟ P͟.̲O͟.̲V͟.̲

Leo’s mind has been occupied more than usual. He stopped thinking about the look that girl had and started wondering more about her.

Why was The Foot after her and why wasn’t she freaked out when she saw him?

Why had his brothers not seen or heard her?

Was she a ghost?

Leo flops down on his bed and sighs in exasperation at his own thought. Of course she isn’t a ghost. Ghosts aren’t real.

Despite this, the girl has haunted his thoughts for hours. Anything he would think about: missions, Raph’s lackluster plans, pizza, skateboarding, the cunning museum puns he had come up with, she took them over instantly.

It frustrates him. Not necessarily because he was upset with the girl, but for not quipping or just saying a quick “no problem” instead of running away like he did. But what was he supposed to do? He was out of the shadows dumbstruck by some random girl. Anyone could’ve seen him and he simply didn’t acknowledge that in the moment. It wasn’t his fault… was it?

He hastily sits up and stares at a Jupiter Jim poster on his wall. Of course it wasn’t, he thinks, but he quickly forgets what he’s even blaming himself for and throws himself back on his bed.

Strangely though, he still needs answers. Or… something! Something tangible. Something to stop this random feeling of guilt he can’t quite find the source of.

He decides to venture out into the city he grew up in. Maybe he would find the answer there.

• • •

Hope you guys liked this chapter! I know it’s mostly centered around Lala, but I promise the next chapter is in the works and will be more Leo-centered.

Like I said, the next chapter is almost done, but I may post it in a couple days or so for revision as Leo has a lot more dialogue.

Stay safe!

-ℍ𝕒𝕟𝟟𝕒

#fanfic #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt fluff #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt leo #rottmnt #rise leo #rise raph #rise michelangelo #rise of the tmnt #rise of the turtles #rise movie #rise leo x reader #rise donnie x reader #x reader

[clemjolichose]

Okay, I finally wrote on @quodekash 's demus/dukeceit prompt. The thing is: it's wrecked and maybe too personal. So hear me out: Roman is an antagonist here and the words he says are words spoken by my own sister in the very same situation as Remus was in. I was a depressed child and I'm now a depressed adult, and it fucked me up as bad as I write it. This one-shot is *extremely* self-indulgent and probably has no sense.

TW: discussing death, suicide, blood, mental illness, self-harm, (familial) abuse, sanism/ableism, mental hospital, sex (mention of genitals) and please tell me if I'm missing any.

Enjoy ❤

My mother never told me why my heart, my blood-pumping organ, one day floated into the clouds never to be seen again.

My brother, my twin, we have the same face, the same eyes, the same body and sometimes the same mind, but not the same heart. He was always telling me to eat mine out, whatever the situation was. Drawing, singing, performing, dancing, writing... It was like what I did never was good enough, and when I tried to complain I was only silenced. So that I did: I ate my heart out. Bottled up all my resentment towards my own blood. I knew our mother would never admit Roman is her favourite, I knew I would never be enough while they would never say it out loud. And maybe it is true, maybe I'm not good enough, deserving of all the praise and love and awards Roman has received through his life. I'm stuck with being Peter Pan's shadow no matter how hard I'm trying to escape. I guess that what I do isn't good, nor sane.

I remember drawing eyes and crosses and tears and writing shit on a piece of paper out of boredom, it didn't really mean anything, it looked like a shit tons of crap that made no sense; to me it was the most self-representative drawing I had ever made. But what do I know? I was just a brainless teen that couldn't even draw a straight line. It's not that I can't, it's really that I don't want to. Huge difference there. So I was writing and drawing and scraching tge paper trying to paint my emotions because boredom just makes you do shit like that, it makes you think about your heart, and when you find emptiness, there's a void for your thoughts to fill. And oh boy, they filled it so well... And then I looked at my work, an artwork I could finally be proud of, a masterpiece that looked like me... I felt content, happy even. I felt calmer and found myself smiling, and this smile had faltered as soon as my brother looked at the paper. He snorted and shouted with arrogance:

"Stop drawing that, it's freaking me out. Mom and dad will throw you in a mental hospital! It's ugly anyway."

What monster would say that to their friend? Because I truly believed, once upon a time, that we were friends. Not so much anymore, huh? And when my parents acquiesced, I knew I needed to get out as soon as possible. I felt unsafe and unreasonably angry. At what? Everything. It was all bullshit anyway. Love your family? They would eat your flesh if it was covered in candy, and mine must have been delicious. Hatred settled in the cavity of my chest, slowly taking out the love I once felt for them. It's still there to this day, the love, and maybe I would forgive them as soon as I get an apology. Or not even an apology, you know? Maybe I would try to comply to their standards again if I ever see them once more. But that's why I left, right? I left to never deal with their shit again, to live my true self and who cares if it's someone of madness? I don't! I actually love it. I love thinking about arson and getting to draw their house on fire. I love feeling suicidal- well, not good phrasing, but hear me out: feeling suicidal is not great, but being able to put words and drawings upon it? And then feeling relieved because the very image of yourself bleeding out that was stuck in your head for days on end while you couldn't get out of bed was finally realised in some ways? Best feeling in the world.

Not quite, though. There is an even better feeling I got to indulge myself in: being mentally ill with someone who cares.

I met Janus when I finally got out of the house. I was 20, with no clothes and only my drawing stuff, trying to live my own life instead of someone else's because being the brother of Prince Roman™️ wasn't meant for me, and I think it's not meant for anyone. Life is an ass but at least it sometimes gives you a dick to ride on, non-sexually. Pleasant metaphors aren't my strong suit.

But at least Janus doesn't mind. He doesn't mind anything I do, in fact. From the first time I met him and through years of intimacy, he never judged me for the blood, the tears and the urge to rip my skin off and crack my skull open (or his, affectionately). He's supporting me, actually. When I'm at a low point because depression is a bitch, when I start hallucinating monsters more terrifying than my own imagination, when all is black, he is the one to put a brush or a pencil in my hand and to toss me in front of a white blank canva, where I can represent anything. What a dream. What a dream, right? A dream, it's just a dream, it must be a dream, it has to be a dream, it cannot be anything but a dream, a fucking dream, ah! But he holds me oh so gently, he talls to me slowly, and stroke my hair like my mother should have, and he tells me I'm real. I'm real. Am I? It's "cogito ergo sum" after all, not "morior ergo sum". How can I be sure? He kisses me, on my forehead, on my temple, on my cheek, on my nose, on my jaw, on my neck, on my chest, on my hands, on my lips, he would have kissed my feet if I didn't have my boots on, and he says:

"Do you even want to? You can float. You can be a god."

I know it's a lie but this is what's comforting. It's lies that never disguise themselves around me, it's destructive imagination that matches mine in the most fucked up and beautiful ways, it's the doors to Heaven slightly opening in front of me because a creature of God loves me and I can love it back. The snake who tempted was once a loving being, too. It gives me hope, it gives me ideas that do not rely solely on my pain - though it is my greatest muse - and how would great poets have written their masterpiece if they weren't a little bit dying too? People say I have a peculiar way of thinking, in a strange, scary way, just like my parents said, just like my brothers shouted and his voice still resonates in my ears to this day. At least, now, it is covered in the sweet praises of Janus, it is nothing but muffled echos of distant wailing, hushed by the need to hear my sweet lover describing my latest drawing without using "madness", "demented" or "hospital". And I thought it was untrue, but it really takes one person to make a world, a world of freedom and oh my God I can be myself, oh Lord I can love, oh Jesus I can hate because those who have wronged me were the ones judging while I was a lost lamb. There is something divine in a love that heals even the most wrecked soul, a heartless one, that awaits to rejoice with its blood-pumping organ every single day withoit crossing the bridge yet. Now is not the time. Tomorrow? Maybe. Let's wait and see.

#sanders sides #tss #ts sides #ts art #remus x janus #remus sanders #janus sanders #demus #dukeceit #tw death #tw sex #tw suicide #tw blood #tw abuse #tw self destructive behavior #tw psychological abuse #tw sanism

[al-lewinsky]

i completely faked months of data research to suit my claims for all my final papers and got As across the board on these papers apparently

#and i wrote these papers like just bullshitting and writing whatever i felt like writing. like it rly was funsies for me #god my brain is so sexy i was born to do academia i should be a forever student #like grad school and law school i just want to study and learn and write forever #if i was a trust fund kid i would get 10 degrees and work at my own pace to maximize the funsies factor for me

[acciojaeyun]

only angel | george weasley

pairing: george weasley x gn!reader warnings: nsfw innuendos, suggestive themes, cuss words here and there, a bit of gaslighting prompts: "you can't just keep on pushing me around for me to take the fall and you could fuck me with half the commitment!"

a/n: hIII i don't know if this is a smut request!! aaaa so i made it the fic before smut HASHDHSA pre-smut!??!!? minors dni. thank you for sending in this request, anon! i might be writing a smut continuation after this 🫠

summary: y/n and george were friends with benefits that have had hid their feelings for each other until something happened that broke them up. months later, george sees a bashful critique from y/n themselves.

"What the fuck is this?" George spat as he threw the crumpled Daily Prophet on Y/N's desk. To which they smirked, looking at the leaflet before directing their gaze at a fuming George.

"I see it as a fine editorial work, Mr Weasley, don't you think?" they inquired before reaching for the paper at the farthest edge of their table, their eyes scanning the familiar words of the recent critique of George's concluded artwork exhibit - most of which consisted of his photography - that they had written about, with the whole article emphasizing how each work possessed an amount so greatly - that possession being the lack of sensuality and emotion, something that Y/N had compared to the probability of George being unable to express his emotions with the people who mattered to him greatly.

"Call me all the fuck you want, Y/N. Call me 'an amateur photographer who just became overhyped because of the business I run,' but you never bring personal matters into this."

"I think I can write whatever I want, George," they rolled their eyes, putting down the newspaper on their table, "and what's wrong if I say how I feel about your exhibit? Is it my problem that it actually lacks emotions and sensuality? Those are key requisites of art, in case you didn't know."

"I know that, 'Mx L/N,'" he mocked, rolling his eyes, "but what I didn't realise is that you can stoop this low - for what, for vengeance? For you to disdain me because of what happened? Bloody hell, Y/N, that was eight months ago!"

They looked at him as if they were taunting him to go further.

"You left me the hell out! Why did I suddenly lose all the right to be angry?!"

"Bullshit, you knew how much you meant to me!"

"I don't want to be just friends, George! You knew I wanted more, but you never gave that to me! You can't just keep on pushing me around for me to take the fall and you could fuck me with half the commitment!"

"Y/N -"

"You knew how much I was so badly in love with you and yet you were so adamant in making me feel that all I'll ever be is a friend, someone who is always going to be there when a supposed relationship failed to work; so, George, to confirm your realisations, yes, I can stoop this low. And I will forever step down this low if it meant making you feel what I felt like when we were together. So, Mr Weasley, before I make another follow-up critique, leave."

And with a final look at Y/N who refused to meet any more of his gaze, George swallowed all of the words that were desperately so trying to get past his mouth. All of the words that were desperately trying to prove that all Y/N believed were lies, and that nothing they heard were the truth.

So, he left. And there was an endless pit of misery and longing bubbling inside of him. He knew why he went there, he knew why Y/N wrote that, but on top of all this, all he wanted was to see them again, to finally catch a glimpse on what he had lost based on a complete misunderstanding.

The day was slow for the both of them, and each had been dreading everything. What happened eight months ago, and what happened hours prior. George’s flicked over the clock at the top of the door, it was five minutes ‘til closing time, and Fred was constantly reminding him of the bet he had lost, that, and George had to buy all of the drinks for tonight’s night out.

“Come on,” Fred drawled, pulling George out of the counter as soon as he swished the sign outside the door to ‘CLOSED.’ “you owe me four Daisyroot Droughts!” Fred added to which George rolled his eyes at, but let Fred pull him anyway. He, himself, thinks he needed a drink as badly as Fred does. The previous events deemed so.

But what George didn’t expect was the same fierce set of eyes from the morning prior to be looking at him in such an intensity George himself didn’t know existed. He felt as if he were in a trance, moving under such gaze with Fred’s arm around his shoulder as the older twin directed him to the bar.

And it kept that way. With Y/N looking at them from time to time, and George sat on the barstool as he remained his composure. He knew Fred wouldn’t be drinking just four rounds. Especially if he’s the one paying. So, instead, he nursed himself a drink, so antagonising, so slowly, as his eyes fixated on Y/N at the other end of the pub. Radiating such seductive stature with the way the all black fit complemented them completely.

He didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other, and now, finally on his second whisky glass, his jaw clenched at the sight of them so tantalisingly tease him in a way George knew Y/N was purposefully doing.

With their eyes trained on George instead of the witch or wizard - whoever it was, really - that they were sensually slow dancing with, George watched. He watched every bit of it, sipping the whisky from time to time with the occasional sigh from the alcohol dripping down his throat.

“Hey,” Fred slurred, cutting George out of his trance as the younger twin groaned out of annoyance. “Isn’t that Y/N?”

“Obviously,”

“Dancing with - with - wait, is that -“

And as Fred squinted his eyes towards the pair who was so painstakingly far from him but near to George, the younger twin followed his trail of sight, and that’s where he realised.

Pucey.

It was him who Y/N was dancing with.

“Pucey,” he declared through gritted teeth.

“That soon -“

“Hi!” a familiar voice beamed, loud enough to hear above the flaring music of the pub. Fred smiled, happy to see Y/N once again, but soon regained his stoic gaze as he realised that George wasn’t too happy with what happened.

“I’d like to ask if I could dance with you?” Y/N batted their eyelashes at George, who remained unfazed by their game. He was fuming, angry, disappointed at them. From the very start, all George wanted was to not share something with someone for just once.

And with Y/N, George doesn’t like to share.

“Aw, he doesn’t wanna,” Y/N pouted, and excused themselves to walk between the space of the two twins, “Hey, Freddie, wann -“

A loud gasp escaped from Y/N’s lips as they were met by the close proximity of George’s face with that of theirs. Their eyes traveled down to his right, ring-clad hand that wrung around their wrist in such a tight hold. Fred had excused himself, muttering a reason why he’s to leave; but they weren’t one to care.

They met George’s gaze again, and if they weren’t that close, Y/N was sure that he was smirking.

“I thought I made it clear I never liked sharing, Y/N?” George said softly but emphasised each word with edge, his left hand reaching out to their right ear as he tangled his fingers in the soft strands.

He pulled on it softly, knowing how it elicits a burning desire for him at the pit of their belly. With hooded eyes, his gaze travelled from their eyes down to their lips, and slowly leant in. He could laugh on how Y/N looked lust-blown amidst the blinding colours of the pub, he could mock them on how their lips trembled as he knew — they couldn’t last much longer to the facade.

George wasn’t to talk, when he felt the same. But, compared to Y/N, his face didn’t exude the need and desire to be with them, to hold them close — one that didn’t perish even months apart.

His lips stopped where it was almost close to touching that of theirs, his right hand coming down onto their waist, and George faintly kissed the left corner of their lips, ghosting down to their jaw to their neck, where he had sucked the exposed skin and nipped it, licking it and blowing air afterwards.

George pulled away, smirking and chuckling slightly at the expression Y/N held.

“Say it,” George whispers, running his thumb over their wanting lips.

“I’m yours.”

#Spotify #harry potter #hp #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #fluff #angst #headcanon #headcanons #hcs #blurb #fic #george fabian weasley #george x you #george weasley oneshot #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fic #imagine #fanfiction #oliver phelps #drabble #smut #harry potter fics

[cayofdreams]

Down with the Monocracy

(Bratty!Fem!Reader x Bakugou)

Summary: Reader has had a FWB relationship with Bakugou for the past 4 months due to her monstrous sex drive. This relationship however, comes to a brisk end when reader seems to get a boyfriend. Frustrated at your now weird behavior towards him, he decides to get to the bottom of it...in his own way. 

Words: 7.5k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut

Warnings: cursing, bratty/stuck-up reader, implied cheating, heavy orgasm denial, fingering, dirty talking, spanking, degrading, slight breeding

Notes: Hello! This is the first fanfiction I’ve wrote in close to ten years. Its much longer than I intended for a first fanfic but I was desperate to get this out of my brain. I’ll probably chill out and do drabbles for a bit lol. Feel free to give me feedback as I’ve become more-so used to writing research and analysis papers, I wouldn’t be surprised if my fanfic writing is a bit wonky. Anyways, enjoy :-).

*H/N – Hero Name

 Harsh pants filled Bakugou’s dorm as the both of you tried to stay quiet.  Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were in the next room playing video games. You could occasionally hear them shouting at one another, a signal that one of them had lost or died in the game. Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu were in the commons watching some sort of K-drama. You’d hear one of them let out surprised gasp or a giggle in reaction to whatever romantic scene transpired on the screen.

But these outside noises would leave your mind just as quickly as they’d come in due to the pleasure that was currently surging through your body. You were seated in Bakugou’s lap, faced towards his desk, grinding away at his cock trying to chase that pleasure to the maximum. Your hands clutching at the notebooks and flailed papers on his desk. A reminder that once again you guys could not study together for 10 minutes without needing to exhaust the filling sexual tension. Bakugou’s hands were grabbing at your hips, his grasp getting tighter as he got closer and closer to his climax.

“Oi…hurry up and cum..I have somewhere I need to-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as Bakugou suddenly thrusted upward into you. Immediately you clasped your hands against your mouth to stifle your moans. He smirked at your weak attempt of rushing him.

“Surely…you’re not rushing me.” He lifted you up by your hips so that only the tip of his cock was inside you, before slamming you back down. “When your insatiable pussy is the one who started this.”

You didn’t know if he was talking about your lewd relationship in general, or just today’s scandalous activities. You assumed the latter. Waiting until you could stifle you moan enough to make a sentence, you responded. “…wasn’t me. You kept-“. He slammed into you again. You paused as you held back a groan that so desperately wanted to escape from your throat before continuing. “Kept…feeling up my t-thighs.” You flattened your palms tighter against your mouth as Bakugou increased his pace.

“Hah? So a little graze against your thighs…” He began as he traced his fingernails up and down your thighs. “Gets you like this?” A chuckle escaping him as he watched you struggle to keep your voice down as his cock continued to roughly glide in and out of your trembling walls. You didn’t respond. If you opened your mouth now, there’s no doubt that your classmates would hear the voice that represented the erotic things Bakugou was doing to you in his dorm.

“If your highness wishes me to cum, you better fucking start putting in better work than what you’re doing right now.” Bakugou slapped your thigh as if he were slapping a horse to get them to go faster. You winced as you gripped at the edge of Bakugou’s desk to better stabilize yourself. As soon as you started riding him at a more fierce pace his hands slip up to cup your breasts under your bra. He pinched at your nipples, making you let out a lewd noise that had you worrying if your neighboring classmates heard it.

Bakugou noticed you shoot a glance toward his door, listening to see if you’d been found out, and sucked at his teeth. “You worried about those dumbasses hearing you?” He got up, still inside you, and pressed his hand on your back so that you’d be face down on the desk and ass up in the air. Jutting his hip toward yours, you grunted behind gritted teeth as he leaned over so his lips traced just over your ear. “Hearing what I’m doing to your pussy?” His fingers massaging into your scalp before gripping tightly into your hair. “Fuck those extras. Let them hear.” Moving the hand that was on your back toward yours that were still tightly pressed against your mouth. He pried them away from your face, bringing your arm back so that he could use it as a reign when he began to fuck you. He straightened back up to steady himself firmly on the ground.

“Wait- Baku-! Hnngh!” Bakugou started to rhythmically jam the entirety of his cock inside you. Laughing at you as you struggled to not add on to the lewd noises your sopping mess was making.

“Fuck! L/N!” A hard slap came down on your ass cheek. The pleasurable pain causing your slippery walls to quiver against Bakugou’s cock. Your free hand roaming around the surface of the desk, now crumbling up homework papers under your fingers. “You like this? You like almost being found out by those shitty extras? Fucking pervert. Why don’t you just scream like you want to? I know you’re about to fucking cum.”

Your lips curling in under your teeth, grunts becoming louder and louder as your orgasm approached. The growls of the man behind you adding on to your auditory pleasures, drowning out the yells and cheers of your neighboring classmates. But it was getting harder and harder to hold your voice back, and Bakugou seemed to not give any care as his thrusts got deeper and more forceful.

“Fucking scream, L/N. I want to hear it. Imagine those dumbasses’ faces when you walk out there. Knowing what lewd shit you were doing with me.” He let go of your arm and reached around to wildly circle your clit. “And you portray yourself as some kind of princess. Fucking bullshit.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. Even as your hand quickly went back to cover your mouth, it wouldn’t be able to hold back the suppressed groan you’d soon let out. “I said fucking-“ Before he could let out his demand the loud exclaims from the adjacent room poured into Bakugou’s. Another loss. Or win. Who gives a shit? All you knew is that those yells allowed you the opportunity to loudly moan Bakugou’s name to your heart’s desire as you finally reached your orgasm.

Bakugou would’ve called you out on cheating if the quivers of your orgasming walls wasn’t forcing him into his own intense wave of pleasure. “Oh shit…L/N…gonna cum. Fuck-“. He let out a couple more rough thrusts before spilling his seed inside the condom. You felt his cock pulsating, a weirdly pleasurable feeling as you were winding down from your own orgasm. Bakugou slipped out of you and slumped back in the chair and you soon followed, falling back into his lap.

Seeing that you were exhausted, he lifted up your leg so that he could reach down and slip off the used condom. Tying it in a single knot at the end and tossing it into the trash nearby. He let his hands softly feel up your thighs and squish your stomach, comforting you as you regained your breaths.

“You imbecile. We could’ve been found out, for real.” You said, pinching his thigh, too tired to hit him.

“Shut up. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It WILL matter if there’s ever a headline of us. ‘Upcoming pro-heroes, Ground Zero and H/N CAUGHT fornicating in the dormitories.’ You waved your hands in the air, mimicking a hysterical news reporter.

He chuckled into your back. “You fucking wish you could be in an obscene headline with me”. You sucked your teeth at him.

“Whatever.”

“Are you still going somewhere”

“Are you sane? Like I can move right after that.” You turned to look at him. “Make me some ramen. And don’t add a deadly amount of spice to it, either.” You got up and grabbed some tissues and started to wipe away the seeping wetness off your crotch and thighs.

“Like I’m making you shit! Make it yourself!” Bakugou got up and repositioned his shorts around his waist. Before he could grumble anymore, you placed a kiss on his cheek causing him to turn a deep shade of pink.

“You shouldn’t rebel. It just takes away from energy that’s better spent making that ramen.”

“Honestly, just shut up!” He turned away towards the door but you could still see the pink on the back of his ears.

You chuckled at the slam of the door, your smile widening as you heard him fumbling around in the kitchen.

But the time Bakugou returned with two hot bowls of ramen, you were knocked out asleep.

“…Fucking stuck-up vixen”

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

You sat in the karaoke room with Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jirou, making you the 5th wheel. But only temporarily, as your friends had supposedly invited a cute guy from a rival hero school to be your date for the evening. You loved being courted by attractive guys, you were a queen after all, so naturally you didn’t turn down the blind date. Though you must admit, since starting your friends-or rather, rivals-with-benefits relationship with Bakugou, you didn’t go out with guys much. You didn’t really see much of a need since your sexual appetite was being satisfied. Bonus points in that since it was no-strings-attached you didn’t have to frolic in romance, leaving you time and energy to concentrate on your hero studies.

“Are you excited, Y/N!? He texted me saying he’s on his way!” Mina was definitely more excited than you were, but you were waiting in anticipation none-the-less. Apparently Kaminari knew the guy, which worried you a bit since Kaminari was a dunce when it came to most things. But after Mina and Jirou reassured you the guy was definitely your type, you became more okay with date.

“Yeah, I suppose. Tardiness deducts points, though.” You playfully declared as the door to the karaoke room slowly opened.

“Aww…don’t be so strict with me, L/N. I’ll cry before I even properly meet you.” You heard a young man say as he entered the room. As soon as you looked at his face, you felt heat rise to your own. He was nothing less than exquisite. You’d never seen hair so soft-looking and flowy, skin so smooth and obviously baby-soft. A piercing pair of eyes that you were scared, or maybe hoped, could see straight through your clothing, into your soul.

“It’s okay if you cry. I like seeing cute boys cry.” You smiled with an obviously feigned innocence as you picked up your drink and sipped from it. He smiled seductively as he sat down right next to you, not leaving any space between your bodies.

“Seijirou!” Kaminari exclaimed, reaching over to fist pump your date. “Glad you could make it, dude!”

“Kaminari, long time no see. We need to have another jam session before we graduate.” The boy named Seijirou cooly stated, returning the fist bump. “Of course with L/N now joining us in the studio” He returned his gaze toward you. “I’m sure her alluring beauty and energy will inspire me with some great melodies”.

God, his coy smile could lead you straight into hell. How hadn’t you met him yet? You almost wanted to curse Kaminari for not introducing this stunningly attractive man to you before.

“Kyaa!! What a natural romantic!!” Mina shouted slapping her hand excitedly on Kirishima’s thigh. “Right, Eiji?!”

“Haha, yeah, babe.” Kirishima replied, taking Mina’s hand in his own to keep her from bruising his thigh.

Jirou reached over to grab the tablet that connected to the karaoke room’s TV screen. “Okay, guys lets get down to jamming.”

“Yeah!” Kaminari wrapped his arm around Jirou, pulling her into his chest as she picked the first song.

“I sure hope your voice is to the same standards as your face, Seiji.” You seductively challenged, looking him right in the eyes.

“I hope so too, I need to earn those points back.” Seijirou replied, his finger tracing slowly on your hand. You chuckled, holding his hand in yours now.

Jackpot, baby

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

After a long and tiring session of belching out everything from cute idol songs, to screaming death metal, it was time to head back home. Everyone was laughing and joking with each other as you all walked back. Everyone was also hand-in-hand with their respective partners, including you and Seijirou’s. In fact your hands had never left each other’s grasps since they first joined at the beginning of the karaoke session. You and Seijirou walked a few steps behind everyone, wanting to mimic any kind of privacy in order to soak in each other’s presence. Kirishima looked behind and noticed this, squeezing Mina’s hand to alert her as well. She grinned ear to ear at the lovely display of romance unfolding.

“Hey, F/N! Are you going home or….will you be continuing your date in private?” Mina winked at you, not at all trying to be discreet about her intentions.

“Oh. I guess I didn’t even think about it”. A total lie. You’d been strategizing how you’d cleverly get into bed with Seijirou since you first heard his pretty voice sing.  You wanted to know how he’d moan. How he’d make you moan. If he’d be better than Bakugou.

Woah, how did he cross your mind? You hadn’t even thought about him all night until the potential for good sex crossed your path. But thoughts of him dissipated with the sultry voice of Seijirou.

“I surely don’t mind the extra company. I’ve been dying to share my tea recipe with a worthy guest.” He squeezed your hand. “It’s a special recipe. Made especially for when my throat is sore from an awesome jam session..or when…” He looked directly at you. “When anyone’s throat is sore from using it…extensively.”

Your panties were drenched at this point. Not that they weren’t a bit damp the entire evening. You needed this mysteriously seductive man’s cock inside you. Now.

“Sounds like some delectable tea.” You bit your lip. Seijirou chuckled at you.

“Shame I didn’t bring my car, I’d hate to make you walk all the way back to my place”.

He has a car, too?!

You could throw your panties at him this very moment.

“I don’t mind walking with you, Seijirou.” You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand back.

Catching the mood, the group separated from the two of you, but not without the cheers of Mina encouraging you.

Of course, the two of you didn’t make it to his place. It’d take too long. You needed each other now. So you opted for the love hotel that was only a couple blocks away. As soon as you and Seijirou stepped into the erotically designed room, you jumped on him. He caught you, and you wrapped your leg around his waist. You drowned in each other’s kisses, wanting desperately to become one with each other. You for one, could not wait to see how Seijirou could maneuver his away around your body like he did with your mind.

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

Tapping your pen away on the notebook in front of you, you struggled to digest the information in the textbook. Not even knowing what to highlight anymore, words became more jumbled and muddled as you tried to continue reading. You couldn’t concentrate at all.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up from the common room’s table and went to make something hot to drink in the kitchen. Everyone was most likely asleep by now, but since you couldn’t seem to do so you decided to force yourself into exhaustion with some late-night studying. But unfortunately, despite feeling wide awake, it didn’t seem to help you focus any better in regards to studying. You were never a “studier” anyways.

As you waited for the hot water to boil, you scrolled through phone trying to find an entertaining distraction, settling for the digital magazine of your favorite fashion designer. You didn’t even notice Bakugou stroll into the kitchen

“Oi.”

So startled you almost dropped your phone, you turned around to see the owner of that voice.

“Fucking, hell, Bakugou. You scared the shit out of me.” Clutching at your chest, you tried to ease down the erratic beating of your heart. He always found a way to get an expletive out of you. Bakugou slightly pushed you against the counter to  get a better view of your backside.

“Nah, you’re good” Smirking, he went to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water as you rolled your eyes at him. “What are you even doing up anyways? Taking some dumbass selfies?”

“Well, if you’re so interested in the affairs of L/N F/N, I’ll have you know that I was actually studying, like the non­-dumbass that I am”.

“Sounds like something a dumbass would say.” Taking a swig from the water bottle, Bakugou took a glance at your side profile, also noticing how revealing your pajamas were. Your pajama shorts were barely covering your plump ass, and the flesh of your thighs slightly spilled over the tightness of your thigh high socks. What the hell were you doing walking around the common area like that? Surely you were waiting for him.

He took a last sip of his water and pinched at your upper thigh.

“Gyah! Bakugou, what the hell?” Your annoyed face being 110% worth the cute noise he was able to force out of you.

“Why are you studying out here? You know you could’ve asked me for help.”. His fingertips still lingering over your thigh, faintly tracing over your skin. You sucked your teeth and lightly pushed his hand away.

“No, I couldn’t’ have.” Your phone buzzed at seemingly the right time; before temptation would get the best of you. You smiled at the recent text message you received, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou.

Raising an eyebrow, he watched you with suspicion before he made another attempt. This time, he made a squeeze at the squish of your waist. “Oh yeah? And why is that?” You grabbed at his wrist in protest but it only made him dig his fingertips deeper into your flesh. “I know you have needs, Y/N. You haven’t met up with me in the past few days, either.”

The fluster showing on your face didn’t help your denying, but you still tried to step away from him; a fail. He completely closed the distance between you and leaned down toward your ear.

“…Baku-“

“It must be so hard to contain it right now. Those slutty impulses of yours.” He grinned at the way you bit your lip trying to fight off the urges his voice was erupting in you. He knew his effect on you. “So how about you just accept the favor I’m so greatly offering to you and drop those soaked panties and bend over the counter so I can ram this cock into you like-

“I’m seeing someone!” You exclaimed, possible a bit too loud. Bakugou glanced at you as if trying to see if you were really telling the truth or not. You met his gaze with a stern expression. “I’m seeing someone.”

Slowly Bakugou let go of his grasp on you and stepped back. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Slowly nodding your head yes, you straightened back up to continue fixing your drink.

“What fucking psychopath would want to date you? Are you sure he’s real?”.

“I know this may come as a shock to you.” A sly grin appeared on your face. “That I could humble myself enough to share my precious time and energy with someone-“

“Oh, just shut up, already.” Bakugou sat his water bottle down on the counter, looking at it as if thinking deeply about something. There was a momentary silence before you broke it.

“Are you mad?”

Bakugou scoffed at you. “And just what exactly is there for me to be mad about?”

“Well this commences the end of our relationship. You’re no longer a concubine. Perhaps you’re wondering what more to life there is? Oh, maybe depressed is the word I was looking for.” You put your hand to your chin, feigning concern.

“As much as I’d love to shut you up right now with a cock down your throat, I’m quite happy this is over.” He moved to put his water bottle in the refrigerator. “I can finally put my stamina towards training instead of wasting it on that monstrous sex drive you have.”

“And with that, the counsel dismisses you.” You smugly took a sip from your drink.

“Oh, shut up. I’m going back to bed before I commit regicide.” Bakugou put his water bottle back in the fridge and walked past you towards the hallway. “Good luck on your ‘studying’, your highness”.

When Bakugou was long out of your sight, you heaved out a long sigh.

“…Fuck.”

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

A couple weeks had went by and honestly Bakugou was beyond frustrated. He didn’t really think you had it in you to avoid his presence for so long. You usually couldn’t go 2 days without coming at him with some kind of ‘You agreed to be my concubine…so fucking perform!’ bullshit. With his pride, he’d pummel someone like you into the dirt. But immediately after saying something like that you’d palm against his growing hardness before lowering your head to his crotch. And you’d  adorn the most lustful gaze. A gaze that told him that he was the only one who could satisfy you.

‘You’re supposed to be pleasing me, but I guess queens have duties too…’

Honestly you were such a fucking brat. Acting all high and mighty and then becoming a filthy wench only moments after having a cock shoved up you. But he lived for it. The challenge of getting you to finally submit to him during sex would drive him crazy. That blissful face of pleasure. Those lips that would call out for him to go faster.

Maybe he’d be willing to let you go if you weren’t being so goddamn strange around him now. Not only were you being more distant around him, whenever he so much as brushed up against you your face rose with obvious arousal. Your lips would slightly part as if you’re about to let out a moan- but then you’d scold him for being so close to you.

‘Can’t you back up? I can barely hear my own thoughts with your vulgar presence around me’

That sort of thing would happen multiple times and especially during training sessions with him. Whenever you were opponents and Bakugou had successfully won and had you pinned to the ground, you looked as if you were on the verge of orgasming. And then as soon as Aizawa blew the whistle to end the round, you’d quickly run away with an annoyed look.

One time he had approached you, asking what the fuck your deal was, but you quickly dismissed him.

‘Maybe I’m just so pleased with my boyfriend that I literally can’t go a minute without thinking of him. I can’t help that you’ve never made a girl feel that way.’

Bullshit.

Were you teasing him? Did you even have a boyfriend? If you did, why did you have a face that seemed as if you hadn’t been fucked properly in years? If this boyfriend of yours was so bad at sex, wouldn’t you have dumped him? Before the start of this rivals-with-benefits agreement you’d told him of the time you kicked a guy out in the middle of fucking because he had “no idea how to fuck his royals”.  

He’d really think your boyfriend was fake if it wasn’t for the fact that one time while sitting beside you, he saw you receive a message from someone with a heart by the name. And then you’d smile to yourself before pocketing your phone.

Fuck. Maybe this guy really was that good.

No.

Impossible.

No one could please you the way he did. He knew it. It was an irrefutable fact. He’d get down to the bottom of this. He’d make you realize who you really belonged to.

Bakugou grumbled at the unfinished homework on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate due to your stupid antics. He pulled out his phone to send you a text.

“What are you doing?”

Five minutes had gone by and he was already starting to regret his act of impulsivity. You usually took a while to respond but for some reason this time it was really irking him. He got lost in senses of regret before he heard his phone vibrate.

“Getting ready for my date.”

He scoffed at your reply.

“Oh, with that fake boyfriend of yours, huh?”

A couple minutes went by before Bakugou received another reply. This time it was an image. Opening it, It was a selfie of you in what he assumed was your date outfit. You always dressed exquisitely outside your school uniform and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate your sense of style. But right now, that appreciation was manifesting into lust.

Fuck, you didn’t have that big of breasts but why were they looking so plump, now? The dress you were wearing teased your collarbones and Bakugou might as well had been drooling at this point. Not replying after a couple minutes, stunned by your posh appearance, his phone vibrated again.

“I don’t get dressed up like this for any commoner. Now why are you disturbing me?”

He wanted to reply with a “Fuck you. Nothing, dumbass”, but he held back.

“I want my fucking manga back.”

A silly demand, he knew. But it was the only thing he could think of to get you back within his grips. Hopefully you weren’t too suspicious as it had been a few weeks since you borrowed his manga to read.

“Ugh…I suppose I can take time out of my meaningful getting-ready time to drop off your little comic. I’ll be there in 20.”

A smirk shaped the lips of Bakugou’s before he brisked his way to the shower in preparation for his plans.

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

Bakugou had finished putting on his clothes and was now tidying up his room in waiting for a knock at the door. But you were always so rude so instead he was alerted by the sudden swinging open of his door. Before he could yell at you he became entranced by your appearance.

The dress you were wearing hugged you in all the right places and came to a seductive stop slightly below the round of your ass. The plush of your thighs were teased as the start of the top of your opaque socks once again molded erotically around your flesh. It seemed you also had a bit of makeup on as your e/c popped out beautifully from your dark eyeliner.

But you were also entranced by his appearance. You could tell he just took a shower because the smell of his soap traced provocatively under your nose. He wasn’t even wearing anything special, a black long-sleeve top that perfectly fitted his biceps, and a pair of black shorts. But fuck, it was driving you crazy right now.

“Your comic.” You coldly tried to hand it to him, trying to not appear as aroused as you felt.

“Can’t you fucking put it back on the shelf. That’s where you got it from, isn’t it?”

You clicked your tongue at him. “Troublesome.” As you walked past Bakugou to get to the little bookcase above his desk, he watched you. The stride of your hips as you walked had him licking his lips behind you. As you put the manga back on the shelf, he walked up to you so there was no distance between the two of you. Before you could protest his proximity he interrupted you.

“Put it in the right order.”

“What?” You looked back at him confused and irritated. Why was he getting so close to you? Why did his voice sound so intoxicating?

“I have my manga in order. If you pay attention, you’ll see there’s a number on the cover. I believe they teach little princesses how to count, don’t they?” Bakugou once again took notice of your look of arousal spreading across your face. You sucked at your teeth as you hurriedly turned your face away from him. Even after you put the manga in his preferred place, he hadn’t moved away from you. You were starting to get antsy.

“What are you trying to-“

“Where are you going?” His red eyes were fixed on your face, more specifically your lips.

“I told you, a date.” Your fingernails scratched slightly against the wood of his desk. You were overwhelmed with frustration. With desire. But you couldn’t give in.

“Yeah, but where?”

“A restaurant.” Still avoiding his intense glare, it was becoming clear to you that Bakugou had plans as well. And that those plans would involve you.

“Oh. Must be fancy. Considering you look pretty good right now.”

“Hah! I don’t need you to tell me something so obvious. Only someone with my caliber of beauty could make a cheap dress like this look so go- Mmmph!” Suddenly Bakugou had his lips smashed against yours. Damned be your libido, your tongue wasn’t denying him. Your desires were beginning to take over you as you swapped saliva with your rival.

After a few moments, your hands pressed harshly against his chest to get him off you. A chain of saliva still linked the two of you. He licked away the connection with a smirk before pulling you back close to him. He turned you around slightly so that your back was pressed against his chest. One of his hands holding you in place by squeezing at your waist, the other rubbing against your inner thigh.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“I don’t fucking get it.” His slipped under your dress to rub against your now dampened panties. His palm rubbing slowly against your wetness. “You say that your boyfriend is good at fucking you, yet here you are drenched from a measly kiss from me.”

A moan escaped you as your hands gripped tightly against his wrists trying to pry away from him. You wanted to give in so bad, but you had something to prove. You couldn’t disappoint your ego right now.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you haven’t been fucked at all since you ended things with me, your highness.” You whined at his sarcastic nickname of you before your pride came back.

“You’re wrong. I’d say that I hadn’t started getting properly fucked since ending it with you.”

“When was the last time you guys fucked, then?”

“Last night! He pleasures me every night! More than you to say the least!”. You were losing your dominance quickly, assuming you had any right now. The slow stroking of Bakugou’s palm against your covered folds had you letting out whimpers.

“Oh? Is that so? How about this? If you don’t beg for me to make you cum within the next-“ Bakugou paused. “When’s your date?”. You bit your lips between your teeth ignoring him. Not pleased with your silence he dug his fingertips into your waist. You shut your eyes and let out a loud hum in your masochistic pleasure. “I asked you a fucking question. When is your date, L/N?”

“Seven! Fuck, its at seven!”. He loosened his grasp as he checked the clock on the desk.

6:28 P.M.

“Oh that’s not that far away, but I like a challenge.” His voice rumbled against your ear. “Then if I don’t have you begging to cum within the next 20 minutes, I, Bakugou Katsuki, will get down on my hands and knees and kiss your feet.”

He was being completely unfair. 20 minutes? That’s a long fucking time to hold back an orgasm, especially when it’s this guy trying to get you to reach one. But the thought of him kissing your feet flared your insatiable ego. You’ve lasted without cumming before, and you’d do it again to see Bakugou be put in the place he so rightfully deserved.

“So what do you say, your highness?”

“-my whore.” Your breaths settled as Bakugou looked puzzlingly at you. “Say you’re nothing but a whore for the royal L/N F/N while you kiss my feet and I’ll agree.”

“Tch. Fi-“

“And! I’m going to record it.” You were testing the waters now. But if Bakugou could handle any of the game he was talking right now, he’d surely agree.

“Fine. Then we start right now.”

You nodded in a rare display of compliance. Slowly, Bakugou began to rub his fingers against the crotch of your panties. He was going achingly slow, but you weren’t going to complain. The slower he took, the more time would be ate up. Was this his plan? To just go achingly slow for 20 minutes hoping you’d ask for him to speed up?

Imbecile.

You tried to focus on other things while Bakugou slowly rubbed away against your now wet panties. Looking away towards the desk, you thought about math equations. Complicated math equations. Math equations that could help solve the mysteries of our galaxy. Bakugou noticed your attempts of distraction and grinned, placing a soft kiss on are the area that your shoulder met your neck.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The coarseness of his voice vibrating against your neck, taking you out of your mathematical universe.

“Your face after I upload that video on the internet…” You gasped at Bakugou’s sudden increase in pressure against your clothed vulva. He was still going pretty slow but you could feel the pressure cause your clit to swell. “And how…everyone is going to see how pathetic you really are.”

“Tch. You sure are good at acting sadistic. Too bad I’m the only one who knows what a fucking pig you really are. I’ll be making you admit that in just a few minutes.”

Before you could retort, Bakugou’s fingers started making increasingly faster grinds against your underwear. It was starting to become a challenge for you to not give in to the pleasures.

But then it suddenly clicked. He only said you didn’t have to beg, not that you couldn’t cum. Smirking you let your pleasure take over you, now softly moaning into the air. Waves of an encroaching orgasm began to fill your stomach and when you were about to finally go over the edge, Bakugou retreated his now slick hand away from you.

You quietly whined at the lack of pressure before steadying your breaths again. You stayed silent, adamant about not begging to the man behind you to finish the job.

“Oh…you’re pretty tough, huh? Lets see, it’s-“ Bakugou took another glance at the clock. “6:33. You only have 14 more minutes to go, princess. I believe it’s only fair that we kick it up just a bit.”

You smugly chuckled at his challenge. “I was wondering when you were going to make this diffi- Hnngg!”. Bakugou had moved the hand around your waist to tightly grasp the locks of your hair, turning your head to face him. Taking a moment to look directly at your grimaced face he smothered his lips onto yours, ravaging your mouth once again with his tongue. The fingers at your drenched panties increasing to a much faster pace.

You moaned loudly inside his mouth as you felt immense pressure build up inside you once again. You tried to wiggle your hips away from him but he placed his leg between yours, locking you into place. Struggling to breathe, you gripped his bicep in preparation for the orgasm once again approaching you.

Bakugou released your mouth as he once again removed his hand from between your hips. You now whined louder in protest.

“You got something to say?” He asked as he nibbled against your ear. You shook your head profusely. “I guess you really do like challenges, eh? Probably more than me.”

Bakugou lifted up one of your thighs so you’d place your foot on the edge of the desk. You hadn’t yet came down from your first failed orgasm before he sunk his hand into in your underwear and viciously circled around your clit.

You were moaning uncontrollably now, not caring if classmates outside Bakugou’s room could hear you. Chuckling, Bakugou bit down on your neck before licking away at the bite marks.

“Fuck! Bakugou! I-I’m gonna-“ You whined loudly at the repeated lack of friction between your thighs.

“You’re gonna what now? I don’t fucking think so. You haven’t let out a single beg. You know the rules.”

Your eyes watered as you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together trying to get yourself off. Failing, you had no choice but to let your body come down from its high.

As soon as your panting softened, they picked back up again when you felt Bakugou slowly stick two fingers up your sopping pussy. His fingers curving just right to lightly massage against the sensitive sponge inside you while moving them up and down in a quick motion.

“Hahh… Bakugou…”You groaned in pleasure. Too lost in trying to chase an orgasm, you hadn’t cared when Bakugou used his other hand to rip open your pretty dress. He roughly massaged at your breasts while burying his head in your neck.

“No bra? No fucking way you weren’t prepared for me to fuck you today.”

Your constant moans prevented you from replying. Bakugou pinched at your sensitive nipples while sucking harshly at your neck, leaving a bruise.

“You wanna cum, princess?”

“Yes! Yes, please!! Please let me cum! Fuck!” You gave in to his challenge, but it’d be worth it. You knew this was going to be the most intense orgasm of your life. So what if you sacrificed a bit of your ego?.

Just when you thought you were about to enter heaven, the fingers that were inside you slipped out.

“Hnngh- Nooo!! Please, Bakugou. I’m begging, I’m begging!” The tears that were settled at your eyes, trailed down. Your thighs trembled as you once again tried squeezing them together to satisfy you.

Bakugou smirked silently. Instead answering you by dragging you to the bed and pushing you down. He ripped off the rest of your dress before he spread your thighs apart to take a good look at the mess he created between your hips. The way not only your voice, but your pussy was begging for him made him want to give you everything you wanted.

But, no. You needed to learn a lesson. You’d remember what happens when you fuck with him- or don’t fuck with him, rather.

His gazing taking too long, you called out for him again. “Please, Bakugou. I want to cum. I wanna cum so baaad…”. You placed your hands on his that were digging into the flesh below your knees, trying to get him to take pity on you.

“I heard you the first time. How do you want to cum? With my fingers, my tongue, or my-“

“Your cock! Please, I want your cock!” Your hands now gripping tightly onto his. “I’ve never wanted something so bad before, Bakugou, pleeease…”

“You’re begging for my cock, huh”. He pulled down his shorts so his cock could spring free.

You nodded with no hesitation. Deciding not to tease you for now, he sunk inside you in one swift thrust, thanks to your abundant juices.

“Hnngh, yes! I’m gonna cum so hard! Gonna cum all over your cock. Oh baby… Gonna cum so hard for youuu…” Your moans turned into gutteral groans as he plunged deep inside you with every thrust. He made sure the tip of his cock was stroking right at your g-spot.

As he picked up the pace, you swear you could sense your pupils dilating as an orgasm approached. You could see the pearly gates of heaven and then-

Bakugou slipped his cock out of you. Leaving you a whining mess.

“Whyyy?! ? Y-You said I could cum. You said if I begged I could cummm…”. You were sobbing at this point. “What do you want? I’ll do anything, Katsuki…”

His cock twitched at the first time of hearing you say his name.  “Say you’re a whore.”

You looked up at him as you hesitated. He coerced you with the teasing of his cock against your entrance. Sniffling, you did what you know your pussy would want you do to.

“I’m a whore.” Your eyes shut trying to hold on to the last bit of dignity you had.

“And? Fucking look at me when you speak.”

The intensity of looking into his vermillion eyes made you want to cower away. But you did as demanded. “I’m a filthy whore for Bakugou Katsuki.”

“And only me?” He dipped the tip of his cock into you and you forgot what even the meaning of dignity was.

“Yeess!! Only you! Only Katsuki! I swear it! I swear it on everything, I swear…”

“Your boyfriend?”

“I-I…” You trailed off and Bakugou started to slip back out again.

“You know I could do this forever. I made sure to jack off a few times in the shower. Let’s find out how long I leave you in this state.”

“Nooo! I don’t have a boyfriend! Fuck! Damn you!”

“Ahh…so he was fake?”

“He wasn’t fake…He was real. But h-he broke up with me after a week or so. He said he couldn’t keep up with my sex drive. Told me I was a-a nympho… So I yelled at him about y-“ You paused, hesitating to keep going. Bakugou just stared at you, not afraid of leaving you like this if you didn’t finish. “About you…”

“Me?” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, praising you for telling him all this. “And just what did your highness say about me?”

“I said if a rugged commoner like you could satisfy me, then he should be able to, too. So he called me a slut and left.”. You turned your head away, too embarrassed by the sharing of your breakup. “How dare he speak to me like that…”. Bakugou took hold of your chin to face him as he leaned down and kissed you on the lips. He wiped away your tears with his thumb and continued to stroke your cheek.

“You’re not a slut, F/N.”

You chucked. “I’m a whore but not a slut?”.

“I didn’t say you were. You did.” He slipped back inside you, making you moan once more. “Besides, you’re only like this with me, right? I doubt he was making you feel the way I do, anyways. Not with how pathetic he sounds.”

“Yeah…no one can make me feel this good.” Your mouth gaped open as Bakugou began steady thrusts inside you. Your ribbed walls clenched around him begging for more. “Lets cum together, okay?” You placed each of your hands on his cheeks. “I wanna cum with you.”

Entranced by your sudden displays of sweetness, he plunged his cock deeper and faster into you. You slipped your hands into his hair and tugged as you felt your high approach. Your moans sounded more high-pitch and angelic as Bakugou leaned down to kiss your neck. He could better hear your beautiful sounds in this position and it was pushing him closer to his own climax.

His thrusts became more erratic at his impending orgasm. “F-fuck, F/N. I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy.” He layed multiple kisses along your neck. “I might just give you a little prince.”

“Oh fuck! Katsukiii…Katsukiiii…” You tugged his hair tighter. Your long-awaited orgasm finally washed over you. It seemed like it could never end as your walls twitched violently against Bakugou’s cock, making him lose himself even more.

“Me too, F/N- me too. Fuck!” Bakugou pumped his milky seed deep inside you and you could probably cum again just from the hot feeling of it. When it seemed his cock was drained, he allowed himself to collapse on top of you.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing your fingers along his back as you regained your breathing. “You didn’t cum exactly when I did. I’m deducting points.”

He chucked beneath into your neck. “Fuck your point system. I’m rebelling against your shitty monocracy.” You gasped, feigning offense. He kissed you on the lips before turning his body to lay beside you.

“We should..uhh…probably go get a pill, right?”

You sent a confused look at him. “Bakugou, I’m on birth control.”

He shot up from the bed with shock. “Hah?! So why had we been using a condom?” He frustratingly gripped at his hair. “I could’ve been fucking you raw this whole time?!”

“Well I figured you used them because you didn’t trust me.”

“What?” He looked at you before turning his face away trying to hide his blush. “Of course I’d trust my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?! This hasn’t been discussed with the counsel!”

Bakugou leaned over you, his forearms resting on either side of your head. “I believe I said I was rebelling against your shitty monocracy, F/N.” He pressed another kiss on your lips. “Who else is gonna put up with your stuck-up attitude and inhuman sex drive?” He layed back down beside you and pulled you into him, kissing the back of your shoulder.

You twisted your body to face him, looking directly into his eyes. “So you fell in love with the enemy?”

“Yeah, your highness. I fucking did. Gonna execute me?”

You shook your head and kissed his nose before burying into his chest. The up and down motions of his chest relaxing you, beckoning you to sleep.

“I did too.” You whispered softly, Bakugou had heard you though. Holding you tighter against his chest, the exhaustion and your comfort drifted him to sleep.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my first fanfic #idk how periods work when quoting stuff #cayofdreams #cayfanfic

[witching-hour]

S(andwiche)s and Giggles [Juice Ortiz x Reader]

REQUESTED BY @aimkatsz Hey! I just found your blog and I love your writing! Can I make a request for Juice in which the reader and him are great friends and the reader has a crush on him but he is oblivious to it. The reader decides to tell him in a very cute way. Can it have a fluffy ending please! Thank you!

(A/N): i’m so sorry this took so long to post. hope you enjoy, hun! this being my first juice request, i hope i did him justice and wrote him well! feedback and commentary is always welcome babes

SUMMARY: the classic trope of best friends liking each other but one party being oblivious hits the relationship of juice and the reader

TW: none

“COME IN,” you heard, muffled, from behind the door. At the sound of his voice, the corner of her lips curved upwards into a small smile. Your fisted hand lowered from the wood paneling with a reaper carved in the center to the dark brass knob, twisting it to open the door to your favorite Son’s dorm room.

He was seated at his desk with his laptop open, just like Jax told you he would be. The computer-savvy patch was given a task for the club and you knew that he would not be leaving his room for hours, and instead glued to the screen. Your best friend had the habit of getting sucked into his own little world when he was by himself for long periods of time. But that world he would get drawn into was not something that was seen as a good thing.

When you first met Juice when he moved to the small town of Charming from the big city of New York and became a prospect sponsored by Jax, he always wore that goofy little boyish smile on his face. He still does, but behind that smile you learned was a dark void in the back of his mind built from childhood trauma of depression and anxiety. The closer you got to the Puerto Rican, the more you learned about him and his family (or lack thereof), and it broke your heart. The only real family he ever had was the one he made in Charming – with the Sons of Anarchy, with Gemma, and with you.

He wasn’t good alone.

So, you never let him be alone.

You reminded him every day of it. You would always be there.

When the guys told you what Juice was up to, you made some sandwiches out of what was left in the fridge in the Clubhouse kitchen before you wrapped them in some paper towels and headed upstairs to the dorms.

He swiveled around in his chair to see who came in, his face lighting up at the sight of you kicking the door shut behind you as you waved a sandwich in each hand. “Hey, (Y/N)!”

“Heard you were cooped up in here,” You crossed the room, perching yourself on the edge of his desk, handing him one of the sandwiches wrapped up in paper towels, “Figured you hadn’t eaten today yet. And, no, Bobby’s pot muffins don’t count.”

“They were blueberry.”

You rolled your eyes, “OK, Juan.”

He smiled innocently at you as he chewed on the sandwich, making you snort in amusement, which made you both burst out into laughter.

A few beats of silence ticked by as you both shared humored smiles and ate together in peace. As you finished chewing, you cleared your throat catching the boy’s attention, completely enamored by your presence, “So,” you got out while still chewing away at the bread, “am I allowed to know what top secret thing Clay’s got you doing?”

He gestured to the screen, scooting his chair to the side so you could peak over.

“It’s a binary search algorithm…” As soon as he started using computer science terms you checked out and decided to finish your snack while you just watched him ramble. The way his eyes sparkled when they met the glare from the screen. Or the way his jaw ticked when his mouth would close. Or the way the golden rings complimented his skin tone as he would point at something with those long fingers of his. Or the way his shirt would rise up ever so slightly when he hunched over, giving you a teasing look at the grey boxers peeking from above where his jeans rested on his hips. Or the way his muscles would move under his tight white t-shirt.

Every part of him made you fall into a daze.

He called your name one, two, three times before you finally snapped out of whatever trance you were in.

“Hmm?” You blinked a few times as you tried to remember the last thing he said.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, amused that you toned out his ‘geek talk’ as you liked to call it, yet completely oblivious to the longing looks you were sending his way. “You didn’t get any of that, did you?” 

“No habla inglés?” 

“You’re hilarious, (Y/N).”

“And you’re adorable, Juicey.”

“I’m pretty sure you are the adorable one here,” He shook his head with a wide grin on his face, one of his hands reaching out to poke you in the side, making you squirm.

“Juan Carlos,” You warned as he jabbed your other side, making you jolt, “don’t you dare.”

In a split second, the Son had you pinned against the desk as his fingers attacked your most sensitive spots, tickling your sides, stomach, and right under your neck. It started with you giggling and trying to push him off, and he would back off to give you a minute to catch your breath before he would dive back in to torture you. Then when he started not letting up, you got away to the other side of the room still laughing as he chased you. You were sure everyone downstairs knew it was you two screwing around, but they would probably take that term literally since they always teased the friendship between their youngest member and Gemma’s latest prodigy.

(Half-Sac was pouring a round of shots for Gemma and the club as money and hollers were passed around, obviously them not realizing what was actually going on up there).

Juice’s hand almost clasped around your wrist, but you slipped through his grip and tried to hop over the bed. Both your laughs filled the room as you tripped with one leg still across the mattress and the other flat on the floor. While you were tripped up, Juice caught you by the waist and slammed you on the bed with both his arms encasing you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” You wheezed out, trying to hit him and block his hands. He nipped at your neck to get you to lose your focus on blocking his attack on your tummy. You gasped out in shock before you were consumed with laughter just straight up cackles at this point once more.

“Surrender!”

“Hell no – Juice!”

“Beg for mercy.”

“No!”

“Da-,“ you broke out in between each laugh, “-mn. It. Juan-“

“Okay! Okay! St-o-p! You’re gonna make me piss myself.”

He chuckled once more before finally moving his hands away from you, allowing you to smack his chest as he let out a “oomf” noise. You adjusted yourself on the bed by laying your stomach as Juice moved onto his back.

“You alright?” His smile morphed into a look of concern. Juice, always the sweetheart. It was one of the main reasons why you fell for him. Besides how much of a softie he was, he was also such a goofball, and fiercly protective when he felt the people he cared about was threatened. (You’ve only ever been a situation like that once because of your relations to the club; nothing too serious, but Juice became more protective of you after that).

He was someone you could play video games wiith. He was someone who’d give you his sweatshirt when you were cold, or when he didn’t have one and just bring you into a bear hug instead for natural body heat. And, man, did he give the best hugs.

You chuckled, “Yeah, I’m good.” You pressed your face into the blanket under you, mumbling, “You’re lucky I like you.”

He gave you an odd look. “What was that?” The patch’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, sitting up while still keeping his eyes on you. Did he hear you right?

You sent him a confused look right back. What? Then it registered what you said. Out loud. Oh fuck me. And internal panic set in.

Plan B. Plan B. Plan B. Plan B.

Play stupid.

“What was what?”

“You said you like me?” His response sounded more like a question, either ensure thats what he heard or did hear you but was confused by what you meant.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“See!” You exclaimed with your hands thrown in the air.

“What? No! I-” 

“Yeah!” You called out loudly, knowing playing stupid wasn’t helping your situation. “Coming Chibs!”

“Chibs didn’t call for you,” the boy shook his head, grabbing you by your waist before you got off the bed, keeping you pinned down by his lower half practically covering yours.

Despite him pining you to his bed, you still attemted to escape this situation as fight-or-flight mode kicked in. “You sure? Because I’m pretty sure-”

“Cut the bullshit.”

Well, damn. Ok, daddy. When did he get like this and where could you sign up for more of it?

The dead serious expression slowly turned into a “please-tell-me-the-truth” look with his puppy dog eyes that turned your heart to mush. “You like me?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip as you debated your answer. You already slipped up, might as well come clean since their is no way you’re getting out of this one. And if even by chance you would be able to escape the dorm, you would be faced with Detective Gemma and her hounds in leather. You finally answered with a meek, “yeah.”

Juice busts out in the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, which makes you about as confused as he is half the time with the club and their teasing. He moves one of the hands he has flat on the bed to hold up his weight down to stoke the line of your jaw. You try to analyze his face for any hint to what he’s thinking but you’re drawing blanks due to that stupid, blinding smile he’s wearing.

“Can I kiss you?”

If you were eating or drinking anything, you would have surely choked. You were surprised you didn’t choke on air alone over his question. Your eyes widening must have given away your shock because his face fell and he backed off of you.

“I’m sorry. I thought-”

And before either of you could grasp what was happening, your hands shot out to clutch onto the lapels of his kutte and yank him forward, your lips clashing together. The kiss was shorter and not as deep as you wanted but it satisfied you that you were able to get the short and sweet one. You loosened your grip on his kutte, allowing him to pull back slightly. When his gaze met yours, you offered an innocent, bashful, curled-in lip smile. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that,” you admitted, breaking the silence that had consumed the room.

“Not as much as me,” he quipped, running a hand over his faux mohawk.

“Mmm,” you shook your head, “I don’t think so, Juicey.”

“Want me to show you?”

“Yes please.”

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu​ @xx--day-dreamer--xx​ @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

#juice ortiz x reader #juan juice ortiz x reader #juan juice ortiz #juice ortiz #soa #sons of anarchy #soa imagine #soa one shot #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy one shot #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz one shot #soa fic #sons of anarchy fic #soa x reader #juan carlos ortiz #juan carlos ortiz x reader #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagines #juan carlos ortiz oneshot #juan carlos ortiz one shot #juan carlos ortiz imagines #juan carlos ortiz imagine #soa imagines #soa oneshot #sons of anarchy oneshot #sons of anarchy imagines #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic

[n0wornever]

Is It Really Me You’re Missing? (pt. 2) - Luke Patterson x Reader

Read Part 1 Here

It had been a few weeks since she had last heard from him. She blocked his number in her phone right after she got home that night, and she had deleted him from all social media. They still lived in the same city, but in a place as big as Los Angeles, she wasn’t worried about bumping into him any time soon. 

She grabbed her book bag and her keys and raced out her apartment door. As she turned to lock it, she found a small note sitting on top of her welcome mat. Grabbing the tiny envelope, she flipped it over and saw her name written in red ink. She knew that chicken scratch writing anywhere.She sighed before opening the top flap. She pulled out a piece of notebook paper. "The One Where Luke’s a Total Dumbass” was written on the top of the sheet, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the reference. 

“I understand why you had to leave. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I hope that we can at least be civil at some point. - Luke”

She slipped the note back into the envelope before walked toward the door. 

She bounced into the coffeeshop that she worked at with a smile plastered on her face. Her coworker Aster glared at her from the cash wrap. Y/N ignored her eyes as she wrapped her apron around her waist. She took her position behind the espresso machine and took a look at the first ticket. 

London fog latte with a cinnamon muffin. She thought about that order for a second. She shook the intrusive thought out of her brain as she started to steam the milk. 

As she finished the order, she yelled over to Aster to see what table ordered it. The emotionless girl pointed to a booth in the far right corner. A boy sat with his back toward them. Y/N walked over to the table, tea in hand and a smile on her face. She set the drink down, reciting the order back to the patron. 

“One London fog latte and a cinnamon muffin!”

“Thanks,” a groggy voice replied. 

Her eyes met his dark green ones and she let out a soft gasp. He gave her a small smile. 

“Don’t show up at my work,” she said plainly.

She rubbed her hand against her apron before turning on her heels to jog back to the bar, not saying another word to him. 

She went right back to work, taking several orders during lunch. She tried to ignore the fact that he switched seats, his eyes wandering over to her now that he could see the front counter properly. Her eyes flashed over toward him a few times, but they never held for long. As the rush slowed, Y/N moved to cleaning some of the front tables. She saw his shoes walking toward her as he moved to put his cup in the dirty dish box. 

He stopped slightly, trying to catch her eye, but she kept hers focused on the table below her as she scrubbed for her life. She heard him sigh before he walked out the front door. She felt like she could actually exhale again, taking deep breaths as she leaned against the chair near her. 

She saw Aster actually smile as she leaned over the counter to talk to her. 

“Did something happen between you and lil mr. rockstar?” She cocked an eyebrow at her coworker. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Y/N spat, eyes stabbing into the other girl’s.

Aster put her hands up in defense before walking back toward the register. Y/N looked down at her hand and realized she was clutching the towel tightly like a stress ball. She let go, shaking out her fingers before picking it back up and walking back to her station. 

At 9 p.m. she locked the front door, like she always did, and started her walk to her car. She looked around her, anxious as she rounded every corner. She got to her car, opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the brick wall in front of her. She let her chest heave as she felt tears start to fall silently. She let them for a moment, before putting her car in drive. 

She turned on the radio to clog her racing mind. Her favorite song by Amy Winehouse played, and she tapped along on the steering wheel. As she turned into her parking spot, she turned off the car and sat there. Her hand sat on the handle, but she couldn’t get herself to open the door. Her finger tapped on the cool fabric for a moment. She moved her hand back over to the ignition and restarted it.

She couldn’t think straight as she drove quickly down the highway. The flashing lights and bustling nightlight dimmed as her eyes tunneled toward her destination. She saw quaint with and pulled into the lot across the street. She looked up at the corner room and saw the purple and blue lights flickering in the distance. She put her hands in her pockets and ran across the street. She stared at the building for another moment, before pulling out her phone. She wrote rapidly across her keyboard before shoving it back in her pocket. 

Her leg was bouncing up and down as she waited on the sidewalk, her brain fighting the urge to sprint to her car. She saw the front door start to open and began to turn around. With her back toward him, she heard him call out her name softly. 

“Y/N?” 

She stood in place, her hands coming up to cross at her chest. She heard his feet walk across the grass, moving toward her. As he approached her, his hand came up to rest on her shoulder. She felt her neck chill at his touch. 

“I don’t know why I’m here.” 

He didn’t respond, staring at the back of her head with furrowed brows. He let his hand fall down her arm, lightly grazing her skin before grabbing her hand. She didn’t interconnect her palm with his, but he continued to grip hers to stabilize their contact. 

“This is stupid, and I’m making the same dumb decision I always do.” 

He still stayed silent, biting down on his lip as he heard her voice weave in and out as she began to cry. Her hand shook in his as he held it, and he squeezed it lightly. 

“Luke, I don’t want to keep coming back to you.”

“So why are you here?” He finally questioned, voice in a low octave. 

“I....I don’t know.” 

He let go of her hand and let it fall to her side. She grabbed her right wrist in her left hand and finally turned to face him. He almost fell apart just looking at the state of her eyes. Their normal bright hue tainted in red, swelling at the edges. He crossed his arms and walked back a step, keeping his distance as he looked at her. 

“Why did you show up today?”

“I missed you.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed at her almost growl that the last statement rolled in with. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 

“It’s true. Do I deserve to? That’s a whole other question.”

She stayed silent as she listened to him. 

“Y/N, I’ve messed up enough for like 50 people combined, but none of my faults hurt as much as the fact that I lost you.” He walked forward toward her, eyes never leaving hers. “I’m sorry that I never realized what I really lost out on. That I wasn’t present with you. That I never realized how lucky I was.”

Tears spilled out of her eyes as she watched him cry in front of her. He drew closer to her, his hand reaching out for her cheek. He stroked it softly as he drew her forehead in for a kiss. As he pulled away, he pressed his lips together in a frown.

“I guess I should have been more honest with you too....”

“No, this isn’t on you,” He shook his head. “I refuse to let you take ownership for my mistakes. I knew we were great together, Y/N. I missed you every single time you left. I just didn’t take us any further, because I wasn’t ready to give up my love life and it’s chaos.” 

The last words stung her chest as he said them, but she knew that internally she had always knew they rang true. 

“The second you left I knew I ruined the only thing in my life that was worth chasing. Y/N you deserve so much better.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets as his eyes rose to meet hers. She shook her head, moving close enough to touch him. Her hand landed on his upper arm and she rubbed her thumb against his skin. She leaned her head to the side as she took in his face once more. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you Luke. You’re still so important to me I- I just need time to figure out what that means.” 

He nodded, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“I’ll be here if that time ever comes.” 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @xplrreylo​​​​​ @lovesanimals​​​​​, @anythingandeverythingfandom​​​​​, @crybabyddl​​​​​, @oswin05​​​​​, @themaddies-obx​​​​​, @lukeys-giggle​​​​​, @bumbleberry-pie​​​​​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​​​​​  @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​, @lolychu​​​​​, @bathtimejish​​​​​, @dasexydevitt13​​​​​ @musicconversedance​​​​​, @txrii​​​​​  @bestdressedandstressed​​​​​ @daisiesforlacey​​​​​  @epikskool​​​​​  @bookfrog247​​​​​ @carleywhittaker​​​​​ @princessvader15​​​​​ @rudysbay​​​​​ @spooky-season-bitch​​​​​  @kcd15​​​​​  @meangirlsx​​​ @itz-jas​​​ @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall​

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #jatp #julie and the phantoms

[theknightswhosay]

“Next!” Zeke’s voice rebounded around the small audition room. A paper cup with luke-warm coffee was cooling in one hand whilst with the other rubbed his eyes under his old-fashioned glasses.

“I believe Mr Ackerman is the last one for the day,” said Grisha, sinking back into the chair beside him. Zeke shuddered as Grisha cracked his neck. It didn’t matter how long they had been sitting through interviews, surely the man knew how much Zeke hated it when he did that?

Erwin looked just as exhausted as Zeke felt, pressing his fingers into the deep hollow beneath his eyebrows and tipping his head back, slumped back over his chair. The door opened, and all three men turned to survey the twelfth and final interviewee of the day.

Zeke watched the short, dark-haired man as he moved to stand in the middle of the room where two solitary stools waited. As Erwin stood to greet the newcomer, Zeke was struck by the dramatic height difference between them.

“A pleasure to have you, Mr Ackerman!” said Zeke, stepping up to shake the man’s hand, “You’re our last audition of the day, and as you can imagine, we’re all just a  teensy  bit tired, so I really do apologise if we don’t  exude our usual charm,” Grisha didn’t move, no doubt the old man was too tired at this point. Zeke, on the other hand, always had plenty of energy, “now this here is Erwin Smith, whom you might recognise.

Levi turned to Erwin and the two men shook hands, Erwin cracking his dazzling Hollywood grin whilst Levi just scowled at him with mistrust in his eyes. Zeke was already loving the way they looked together: dark and light, tall and short, confident and cranky. What a pair. He was already imagining the great photo ops.

“Please, take your time, whenever you’re ready,” Zeke said, stepping away from the two men, one hand over his heart, one hand gesturing towards the rest of the room.

As Levi rolled back his shoulders and got into character, Zeke stared at him in curiosity. The young man’s slim build was complemented by black, skin-tight jeans; scuffed leather Doc Martens and a loose scarf falling over his oversized shirt in defiance of the smooth Californian weather. He looked every bit the art-school nobody that he was.

Moving to the other side of the room, Erwin took a seat on one of the stools. In his simple, yet expensive Armani t-shirt and beige slacks, he was the picture of a Hollywood actor.

Zeke’s eyes followed Levi as he moved towards the door to enter into the scene. This was it. If this Levi guy was no good, Zeke had no idea what they were going to do. How many people had they auditioned so far? He’d lost count at fifty. Erwin was perfect, but they desperately needed someone who could match him.

“And...ACTION!” Zeke announced.

Levi took a step into the room. The dialogue began and flowed naturally. Zeke did not have to look at the script to know Levi had memorized every single word in it. The more he watched them interact, the heavier Zeke’s breathing became; the air in the room thickened until it settled on his tongue like toffee. Excitement began to build in his chest.

“You are wrong,” Erwin spoke his lines accurately, an expression so noble and heartfelt in his face that Zeke was overwhelmed. “The best option for me is to gamble everything in this battle-"

“Oi, oi, oi!!”

Levi’s voice cut through, loud and sudden, making Zeke jump in his seat. Only then Zeke realized he hadn’t blinked once since they had started the scene. Levi’s expression darkened, sending shivers down Zeke’s spine.

“Cut the bullshit.” Levi continued, completely immersed in his role, “If you keep using those excuses on me, I’ll break your fucking legs...”

Erwin looked away.

Levi moved to stand in front of him.

Zeke could not decide which one of them to look at.

“You’re not going anywhere, you hear me?” Levi hissed, his hand going to Erwin’s shirt to pull him closer.

That wasn’t the line, but Zeke could care less. It worked perfectly. His knuckles gripped the arms of his chair so tight he thought his circulation might cut off.

“I’m your commander. We will do as I say,” Erwin followed along, rising on his feet to push Levi against the wall behind them. His expression hardened; his voice was coarse and his thick eyebrows furrowed. Zeke forgot to breathe.

With his back against the wall, Levi held Erwin’s gaze for the longest time. Deep blue eyes drawing him closer and closer with every breath. Levi’s hands clasped the fabric of Erwin’s shirt around his arms.

“CUT!” Zeke yelled, louder than he had intended.

He turned to find Grisha with his mouth agape, just as surprised and entranced as Zeke had been. It took a moment for the man to remember himself, shut his mouth, and clear his throat.

“That was…” Grisha began, eyes wide, “Well. Thank you very much gentlemen, we will let you know our decision soon.”

Zeke ushered both men out into the hall where their assistant would take care of them. After the door was closed, Zeke finally turned to Grisha.

“ Oh my god,  we simply  have  to cast these two.”

“Well, hang on a second, wasn’t that a bit over the top?” Grisha asked, going over the script he had just finished typing a few days ago. “They improvised some of those lines. Do you think Mr Isayama would approve?”

“I'm pretty sure he wrote their characters with the same intention. And this is  our  version of the story anyway, we can do whatever the hell we want, and I don’t know about you but  I want more homoerotic sexual tension. Definitely.”

“Zeke, you always want more homoerotic sexual tension. Just remember that this is going to air on Netflix. We’re talking about a Western audience. You know what happened last time…” both men shuddered, “And that was just Europe. We are in America now. We’ll be all over the Internet…again.”

“Good! Free advertising for us!”

Grisha sighed. “You’ll be the one giving the conferences when the shit hits the fan.”

“Grisha, we’ve been doing this for how many years now? I dare you to mention  one  time we’ve seen such chemistry between two actors. No really, tell me, I’ll wait.”

“I'm not saying I didn’t like it. I did. I liked it a lot. That may be the problem.”

“It  has  to be them,” Zeke insisted, firmly.

“Fine,” Grisha huffed with a resigned sigh. He pulled his phone out to send a text message. “I’ll let the agent know our decision for the cast has been made.”

-

@xiankar and I have been busy writing this fun little Eruri Actors AU! The first chapter is up now xxx

#eruri #snk #Shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #erwin smith #levi ackerman #actors AU #AU #fluff #drabbles #eruri fic #eruri fanfiction #snk fic #snk fanfiction #my fics

[mister-supernova]

If I Saw You on the Street

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader - Platonic Josie Saltzman x Reader

After Malivore

For as long as you could remember, summer vacation was your absolute favorite time of the year. To your surprise, it’s actually been a huge drag for you this year. It wasn’t like this was the worst summer ever--you could think of a few others that could take that spot--but there was definitely something off that you couldn’t piece together. 

For instance, no one has any idea as to how Landon destroyed Malivore, not even Landon himself. That whole day seemed to be a huge blur to all of the students. You remembered the bigger events like the school defeating Triad, but everyone seems to struggle when it comes to the smaller details.  

In order to keep yourself busy, you decided to stay at the school and take a summer job at the Mystic Grill. Besides the fact that everyone else was back home with their families, the whole school had this off-putting sense of emptiness. The place has magic in the walls for crying out loud, you usually feel some sense of liveliness. 

There was this one room in particular that you felt strangely drawn to. You had no idea why since you knew that no one stayed in that room this past year. At least, no one you knew anyways. 

One day out of pure curiosity, you picked the lock to that room to see what was special about it. 

Just as you expected, it was just a regular empty dorm that was probably going to be taken up by a new student during the fall. It looked like every other bedroom at the school, but this one felt familiar. 

Something that caught you off guard was the scent that faintly lingered in the room. The best way you could describe it was something floral with a hint of sweetness and spice--vanilla and cinnamon maybe--and it wasn’t like anything else you had smelled in the school before. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for the longest time. The urge to stay and wander trumped over the obvious choice that was to walk away. 

Something happened here, you thought. 

A few small drops of pastel blue paint chips stained the wooden floorboards and you wondered how the hell they got there given the rooms have white walls. 

Instead of questioning it any deeper, you just assumed that a student who had this room before must’ve gotten the paint on the floor and the janitors hadn’t noticed it. 

But how could they have missed that? 

You stood there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together what it was that made this place have this unexplainable affect on you. You could’ve stayed there for the rest of the day digging through your brain for an answer that would never come. 

At the end of the day, you knew nothing would come to mind no matter how hard you tried. It was like the answer was at the tip of your tongue, but your mind was radio silent.

Frustrated and defeated, you had to force yourself to leave the strange room. After that, you made yourself forget about that place completely for the rest of the summer and refused to ever return to it.  

Whenever you weren’t at work, you spent time with Landon, Josie, and a wolfed-out Rafael which was fine in the beginning. Dorian gave you permission to shift in the woods on full moons for the summer so that Raf could talk to somebody and you guys could possibly get information on how to help him. 

He definitely appreciated the company that you could provide, but alas he had no idea on how he could be turned back. 

The happier times were the nights you four had weekly movie nights by the Old Mill. You all would alternate who would pick the movie to watch and Landon absolutely hated that you chose a horror movie every single time, but you loved hearing the phoenix boy screech with terror. Josie would get a good kick out of it, too and you were positive that you’d see Raf wag his tail every time Landon screamed.

During those small moments, things felt like they could possibly get back to normal, but once you stepped foot back in the school, you were lost again. 

Your thoughts were much louder through the night. It would get so bad that you could barely get any sleep and the times that you would, you’d wake up screaming from a night terror. 

There was one night when you were tossing and turning, you knocked on Josie’s door to ask if she knew some kind of incantation to get you to fall asleep. You were up for anything at that point, even letting her swing a frying pan over your head to knock you out.  

Not wanting to hurt you or possibly kill you, Josie made you some sleepytime tea instead which actually helped a lot. It didn’t help so much with the vivid dreams you’ve been having, but you thought that it was better than getting no sleep at all. 

Everything felt like it was going decently well until Raf decided to bow out once Josie and Landon started getting close. You wanted to curse at him for making you the third wheel, but you understood that he couldn’t wait here forever for some solution that could help him become human again. He had to move on somehow, especially seeing that his best friend seemed to be moving on, too.

Regardless, you started feeling awkward hanging out with just the two of them. They wanted to include you during their weekly movie nights, but you’d just make up some excuse that you had to be up early for work the next morning. 

Landon--damn him for knowing your work schedule--could tell that you were bullshitting, but he didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do. 

You tried busying yourself with other activities like running through the woods, canoeing in the lake, taking extra shifts at work, binge eating all the good snacks in the kitchen; you even got yourself into drawing and painting for some weird reason, but no matter what you did, there was still something missing. 

Towards the end of the summer, you didn’t feel like your usual jokester self. Sure, you’d throw out a line of sarcasm or make a witty comment here and there, but most of it would sound forced. You’d mainly do it so that Josie and Landon wouldn’t worry about you so much, but Josie quickly picked up on your facade. 

They really wanted to help you figure out what was making you feel this way, but as much as you appreciate their help, there was nothing they could do. How could they figure out what was wrong if you didn’t even know for yourself?

One day after your shift at work, you decided to do something you never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever do. 

You started cleaning your room. 

Josie volunteered to help even though you assured her you’d be fine doing it alone. She bribed you by saying she’d buy you a milkshake if you let her help, so without another word, you agreed to let her stay and assist.

“Gosh, do you throw out any of your old assignments?” Josie asks as she rummages through your desk drawers, “This is an algebra one paper from three years ago, Y/n,” she says, flashing your old homework assignment with a huge F circled in the front. 

“Hey, less judging and more cleaning.” You say, digging through your dresser for clothes you don’t wear anymore. 

“Did you try writing a reminder for a history test or something?” 

You furrow your eyebrows before turning to look at Jo, “What do you mean?”

“You have this post-it note that says “Don’t forget H”, but that’s all that’s written,” she holds up the note and from the other side of your bed, you read exactly what she had said. 

It definitely looked like you tried scribbling another letter after the H, but it ended up being a long messy squiggle, “Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Probably. I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote it though because I have no clue when I did that.” 

Josie puffs her lip out in confusion, “Well. I would be surprised by that, but judging by the ten cans of energy drinks I just tossed out, it’s not so surprising to hear that your memory is a little fuzzy.” 

You drop your jaw in shock, “Is today Judge Y/n Day and I wasn’t made aware of it? You asked to help clean my room Jo, now save your judgments for another day please.” 

Josie playfully rolls her eyes at you, followed by a small chuckle, “Toss?” She asks, ready to crumple the piece of paper up. You take a second to answer back, wondering whether or not if you did forget some history assignment or maybe something even bigger than that. 

“Sure,” you feel your stomach churn seeing her throw the note in the trash bag, but there was no taking it back now. 

Another few minutes of silence pass until Josie speaks up, “Since when do you draw?” 

You look back up from your clothes to see Jo now holding up a sketchbook you snagged at the lost and found a few weeks ago. It was brand new and untouched, so you thought to yourself “why not?”. 

After explaining that to Josie, she flipped through some of the first few pages. You were no Leonardo DiCaprio--or whatever that painter guy’s name was--but you thought you were decent with your sketches. 

“These are really good, Y/n. Did you just think of these by yourself?” She asks, talking about the drawings you had of a girl you’ve been seeing in your dreams. 

You could only see parts of the girl’s face. Mostly you’ve only been able to clearly see features like her eyes and hair, so most of the pages were taken up by a pair of blue eyes and waves of auburn hair. 

“Not really. I’ve been having these really vivid dreams lately.” You tell Josie.

“This is who you see?” She looks down at the pages again, “Who is that? She doesn't look like anyone we know.”  

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s all I’ve been seeing, though.” 

“Well, it looks like you’ve found yourself a hidden talent.” Josie smiles, gently setting the book back down on the desk, “And maybe she’s your soulmate,” she teases. 

You just roll your eyes with a small smile and get back to your tasks. 

Like a girl that beautiful could even exist let alone talk to me, you think to yourself. 

As you continue sorting through your clothes, you notice a pair of sweats that look almost smaller than half your size. 

“Uh, Jo?” She turns to your attention, “These aren’t yours, are they?” 

She raises an eyebrow at you, “How short do you think I am? I think my legs are a little longer than whoever those are.” 

“Well, they’re not mine, obviously. How’d they get into my drawer?” 

“Maybe they belonged to whoever lived in this dorm before you?” Josie shrugs.

“But the dresser was completely empty when I moved in,” you think for a moment, now questioning everything, “At least, I thought it was. I would think that I would’ve taken these out if they were here. Why would I keep a pair of sweatpants that I don’t fit in?” 

“You do a lot of questionable things, you know. Like that one time you jumped through a bonfire wondering how hot it really was or when you tried to do a backflip off the roof of the school and into the pool or the time you “drank” a beer through your-” 

You raise your hands in surrender and cut her off before she could finish, “Okay, I get it! I do stupid shit. The sweatpants belonged to whoever lived in here before I moved in and I didn’t take them out of the drawer. Case closed. Swiftly moving on.” 

You were positive they weren’t there when you moved in, but there weren’t any other reasons you could think of as to how they got into your dresser. 

Seconds before you tossed it back into the bottom of your drawer, your nose barely caught the same sweet and spicy floral scent that you recalled smelling in the strange room. Breathing it in again brought back that memory of being mentally lost in that room, but oddly enough this time it made you feel calm. 

After another hour passed you and Josie ended up filling three bags of trash, one of them recycled trash, and one large donation box of clothes. 

You didn’t waste any time reminding her that she owed you a milkshake. She kind of hoped that you would’ve forgotten about your deal, but she was a woman of her word.

You made a “compromise” to take your box of clothes over to the donating center on the other side of the town square while Josie bought the milkshakes. 

Your task was a lot quicker than Josie’s since it was pretty much rush hour at the Grill right now, so you waited for her on one of the benches in the square.

Sitting by yourself with nothing else to do but wait, you couldn’t help but feel that empty feeling return. The emptiness never hit you all at once, but it definitely drained the hell out of you. 

Again, you felt stumped. Like there’s somewhere you should be or something you should be doing or someone you should be with. You knew Josie was going to be back any minute, but that wasn’t what was missing. 

You anxiously looked toward the Mystic Grill, feeling your breaths becoming more and more shallow as every second passes. You started wishing Josie would walk out so that all your worries could just go away. 

Then--almost like you knew right where to look--your gaze stopped when you noticed someone looking at you from where you just came from on the other side of the town square. 

You couldn’t make out her facial features from so far away, but it was the auburn color of her hair that stuck out to you more than anything. For a moment--and just for a moment--all the weight that had been weighing on your shoulders this summer felt much lighter and everything felt okay again. 

“One cookies and cream milkshake,” Josie’s voice startles you and you face her abruptly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, lending you your milkshake.

“No, you’re good. I was just…” you look back to the spot you saw the girl only to find that she was gone, “I was just lost in thought.” 

You had no idea what just happened or how you seemed to have possibly seen the girl from your dreams, but just a glimpse of her made you feel more emotions than you have all summer long. Because of that, a huge part of you hoped that you would see her again. 

~

heyyyyyy beautiful people! thanks for over 100 likes on This Isn’t Goodbye you guys gals and nb pals! i’m super super happy that you’ve been enjoying this series so far! still have no idea how many more parts this will be just yet lol but i really appreciate every one of you for the love <3  

*also the title was inspired by the song Dreams Tonite by Alvvays in case you were curious ;)*

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies imagine #legacies x reader #legacies cw #legacies

[default-cube]

So I've never actually seen /u/ryans01 excellent post re-posted here on tumblr, and I think it could help a lot of people, so I'll repost it below. Link to the original

Ouch. Sounds like you're having a tough time max. That sucks. I've been there, so I kinda know what you're talking about. I've been in the ever circling vortex of self doubt, frustration, and loathing. It's no bueno. I know. If you don't mind lemme tell you a couple things. You can read em if you want, read em again later if you feel like it. But honestly man, if I spend all this time typing this out to you and you don't let it be a little tinder for your fire, well, you're just letting us both down. And you don't HAVE to do that. You don't HAVE to do anything. But you get to choose.

(Who am I? My name’s Ryan and I live in Canada. Just moved to a new city for a dream job that I got because of the rules below. I owe a lot of my success to people much cooler, kinder, more loving and greater than me. When I get the chance to maybe let a little bit of help out, it’s a way of thanking them. )

Rule numero uno - There are no more zero days. What's a zero day? A zero day is when you don't do a single fucking thing towards whatever dream or goal or want or whatever that you got going on. No more zeros. I'm not saying you gotta bust an essay out everyday, that's not the point. The point I'm trying to make is that you have to make yourself, promise yourself, that the new SYSTEM you live in is a NON-ZERO system. Didnt' do anything all fucking day and it's 11:58 PM? Write one sentence. One pushup. Read one page of that chapter. One. Because one is non zero. You feel me? When you're in the super vortex of being bummed your pattern of behaviour is keeping the vortex goin, that's what you're used to. Turning into productivity ultimate master of the universe doesn't happen from the vortex. It happens from a massive string of CONSISTENT NON ZEROS. That's rule number one. Do not forget.

La deuxieme regle - yeah i learnt french. its a canadian thing. please excuse the lack of accent graves, but lemme get into rule number 2. BE GRATEFUL TO THE 3 YOU'S. Uh what? 3 me's? That sounds like mumbo jumbo bullshit. News flash, there are three you's homeslice. There's the past you, the present you, and the future you. If you wanna love someone and have someone love you back, you gotta learn to love yourself, and the 3 you's are the key. Be GRATEFUL to the past you for the positive things you've done. And do favours for the future you like you would for your best bro. Feeling like shit today? Stop a second, think of a good decision you made yesterday. Salad and tuna instead of Big Mac? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Was yesterday a nonzero day because you wrote 200 words (hey, that's all you could muster)? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Saved up some coin over time to buy that sweet thing you wanted? THANK YOU. Second part of the 3 me's is you gotta do your future self a favour, just like you would for your best fucking friend (no best friend? you do now. You got 2. It's future and past you). Tired as hell and can't get off reddit/videogames/interwebs? fuck you present self, this one's for future me, i'm gonna rock out p90x Ab Ripper X for 17 minutes. I'm doing this one for future me. Alarm clock goes off and bed is too comfy? fuck you present self, this one's for my best friend, the future me. I'm up and going for a 5 km run (or 25 meter run, it's gotta be non zero). MAKE SURE YOU THANK YOUR OLD SELF for rocking out at the end of every.single.thing. that makes your life better. The cycle of doing something for someone else (future you) and thanking someone for the good in your life (past you) is key to building gratitude and productivity. Do not doubt me. Over time you should spread the gratitude to others who help you on your path.

Rule number 3- don't worry i'm gonna too long didnt' read this bad boy at the bottom (get a pencil and piece of paper to write it down. seriously. you physically need to scratch marks on paper) FORGIVE YOURSELF. I mean it. Maybe you got all the know-how, money, ability, strength and talent to do whatever is you wanna do. But lets say you still didn't do it. Now you're giving yourself shit for not doing what you need to, to be who you want to. Heads up champion, being dissapointed in yourself causes you to be less productive. Tried your best to have a nonzero day yesterday and it failed? so what. I forgive you previous self. I forgive you. But today? Today is a nonzero masterpiece to the best of my ability for future self. This one's for you future homes. Forgiveness man, use it. I forgive you. Say it out loud.

Last rule. Rule number 4, is the easiest and its three words. exercise and books. that's it. Pretty standard advice but when you exercise daily you actually get smarter. when you exercise you get high from endorphins (thanks body). when you exercise you clear your mind. when you exercise you are doing your future self a huge favour. Exercise is a leg on a three legged stool. Feel me? As for books, almost every fucking thing we've all ever thought of, or felt, or gone through, or wanted, or wanted to know how to do, or whatever, has been figured out by someone else. Get some books max. Post to reddit about not caring about yourself? Good first step! (nonzero day, thanks younger me for typing it out) You know what else you could do? Read 7 habits of highly successful people. Read "emotional intelligence". Read "From good to great". Read “thinking fast and slow”. Read books that will help you understand. Read the bodyweight fitness reddit and incorporate it into your workouts. (how's them pullups coming?) Reading is the fucking warp whistle from Super Mario 3. It gets you to the next level that much faster.

That’s about it man. There’s so much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days, but that’s not your mission right now. Your mission is nonzero and forgiveness and favours. You got 36 essays due in 24 minutes and its impossible to pull off? Your past self let you down big time, but hey… I forgive you. Do as much as you can in those 24 minutes and then move on.

I hope I helped a little bit max. I could write about this forever, but I promised myself I would go do a 15 minute run while listening to A. Skillz Beats Working Vol. 3. Gotta jet. One last piece of advice though. Regardless of whether or not reading this for the first time helps make your day better, if you wake up tomorrow, and you can’t remember the 4 rules I just laid out, please, please. Read this again.

Have an awesome fucking day ☺

tldr; 1. Nonzero days as much as you can. 2. The three you’s, gratitude and favours. 3. Forgiveness 4. Exercise and books (which is a sneaky way of saying self improvement, both physical, emotional and mental)

Edit: Wow reddit gold? Thanks! No idea what to do with it or whats the deal but many thanks!

Edit2: Someone asked what I meant by "much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days". The long and short of it is a simple truth, but it's tough to TOTALLY UNDERSTAND AND PRACTICE. It's this: you become what you think. This doesnt mean if I think of a tree, I'll be oakin' it by august. It means that the WAY you think, the THINGS you think of, and the IDEAS YOU HOLD IN YOUR MIND defines the sum total that is you. You procrastinate all the time and got fear and worry goin on for something? You are becoming a procrastinator. You keep thinking about how much you want to run that 5 k race in the spring and finish a champion? Are ya keeping it in mind all the time? Is it something that is defining your ACTIONS and influencing you DECISIONS? If it is, then you're becoming the champion you're dreaming about. Dreaming about it makes it. Think and it shall be. But do not forget that action is thought's son. Thoughts without actions are nothing. Have faith in whatever it is you've steeled your mind to. Have faith and follow through with action.

Ok, Ryan that's a bunch of nice words n shit, but how does that help me turn slightly nonzero days into hugely nonzero days. Do you believe all these words you just read? Does it makes sense to you that you BECOME WHAT YOU THINK OF? Ask yourself: What do I think of? When you get home and walk in the door. (how quickly did you turn that laptop on? Did turning it on make you closer to your dreams? What would?) At the bus stop. Lunch break. What direction are you focusing your intentions on? If you're like I was a few years ago, the answer was either No direction, or whatever caught my eye at the moment. But no stress, forgive yourself. You know the truth now. And knowing the truth means you can watch your habits, read books on how you think and act, and finally start changing your behaviour. Heres an example: Feeling like bunk cause you had zero days or barely nonzero days? THINK ABOUT WHAT YOURE DOING. and change just a little bit more. in whatever positive direction you are choosing to go.

Edit3: WHOA! This blew up! Major appreciation to Modified_Duck for making this cool ass image: http://i.imgur.com/7xsp7hJ.png

Edit4: Another AMAZING DESKTOP BACKGROUND! http://www.reddit.com/r/GetMotivated/comments/1rowpb/i_made_a_wallpaper_from_uryans01s_amazing_quote/

#tips #adhd tips #adhd-tips #depression tips #mental health #neurodivergent #neurodiverse #nd #depression #autism #autistic

[ghosttotheparty]

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

8. Oh, it’s like I’m looking down from the ceiling above AO3

“I just don’t see why I can’t call her or something,” Lucas says dryly, mixing the sugar into his coffee.

“We’ve talked about this,” his dad huffs from behind him, where he’s sitting at the table. “She needs space to recover.”

Lucas lifts the spoon and looks at the sugar, sparkling in the spoon, and drops it back in the mug, stirring more aggressively.

“Yeah, but she has space,” he says without turning to look at him. “I think she could heal a little better if she had support.”

“She has support.”

“She has doctors and pills,” Lucas says. “Which helps, but having her son support her would help too.”

“You can write her a letter,” he says dismissively.

Lucas tosses the spoon into the sink loudly.

“Why would I write her a letter like it’s the fucking nineteenth century,” he says “when I can Skype her or something?” He turns to lean against the counter, but his father is still looking at his laptop in front of him, doing fucking whatever. “Her doctor told me I can schedule a call and—”

“No.”

Lucas grips the countertop behind him, until his nails are digging into it, until it feels like it might crack and crumble. He takes a sharp inhale before speaking.

“She won’t even get a letter for a while, I wanna have an actual conversation with her.”

“I said no.”

“You’re not even listening—”

“I don’t need to listen. I gave you an answer.”

Lucas stares at the back of his head, his heart pounding, livid at his insouciance, at how he just doesn’t care.

“I…” Lucas starts, shaking his head. “I just think if we actually talked about it, you could see what I mean.”

“Lucas…” his father huffs, like he’s the exasperated one. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

“I tried talking to you about it last night— I need your permission to call her,” he says adamantly.

“You’re not getting it,” he says calmly. “Give her space .”

“She—”

“Lucas, drop it,” he snaps finally, turning to look over his shoulder. He looks angry, and a part of Lucas feels gratified. Fucking finally he looks, even if just a fraction, as angry as Lucas feels. (Another part of him is startled. Every time he gets angry, it’s this quick, this sudden. It’s always sharp anger, preceded by silence, by indifference, until he snaps.) “You’re not getting permission. You can write her a letter.”

Lucas states back, relaxing his face. A part of him wants to give his father the same treatment, the same unreasonable coolness, the dryness. A part of him wants to walk out, and leave him angry.

He doesn’t.

“Would you even send it if I wrote one?” he asks calmly.

His father is quiet, still staring with furrowed brows.

“God, you really just don’t like her,” Lucas says. “You just don’t want me to talk to her.”

“You don’t need to.”

“She’s my mother,” he says, leaning forward, losing some of the stoicism he’s trying to maintain.

“And I’m your father.”

“You didn’t raise me,” Lucas snaps. “And I’m fucking glad you didn’t,” he mutters as he walks out of the room, leaving his father sputtering some nonsense, bullshit that Lucas doesn’t even bother acknowledging.

He shuts him up by slamming his bedroom door (or maybe he just can’t hear him anymore), and he stands there for a few seconds, just shaking, just trembling, just trying and trying and trying to take a deep breath, but it doesn’t work, and he explodes.

“Motherfucker!”

He swipes his hand across the top of one of the cardboard boxes (the goddamn cardboard boxes), snatching a sketchbook and flinging it behind himself, throwing it into the door.

His eyes squeeze shut and he falls to his knees as the sketchbook hits the door loudly, splitting open, and the papers fly in the air, falling around him. He hears the pages hit the ground, soft scrapes against the uneven wood that sound like the screeches of metal on the inside of Lucas’s skull.

He whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut tighter and tighter until it hurts as he presses his hands over his ears, drowning out the sound of his father tossing silverware into the drawer, the loud, shrill clattering, the drawer slamming shut like it’s in competition with Lucas’s bedroom door. Lucas’s head dips lower until his forehead presses into the floor, gritting his teeth against the whimpers that escape him as his father begins to shout at him through the doors, through the walls.

Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.

Lucas doesn’t realise he’s speaking out loud, softly murmuring the words to the floor, until he finally does shut up, until the apartment lays deathly silent, as if in apocalypse. Lucas opens his eyes and stops whispering, staring at the floor. It’s so close that it’s blurry, swirls of dusty brown and age. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the edge of a sheet of paper that floated down next to him.

He looks at the drawing, slowly, tentatively moving his hands away from his ears as he lifts his head. His eyes focus on the sketch.

He almost wants to look away from it, almost wants to crawl closer to it and snatch it from the ground in a tight fist, almost wants to crumple it and tear it up until it’s dust.

Instead he stares at it, only breaking eye contact with it when he startled, jumping and wincing as the front door slams shut in the dead silence of the apartment. It echoes through Lucas’s head as he deflates, sighing and collapsing onto the floor.

He moans softly, pressing his forehead against the grainy wood, lifting his arms to press them to his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he sighs heavily.

Piece of shit.

He ends up climbing into bed, tugging the blanket over his head and blocking out the sunlight. It still comes through the blanket, pressing against his eyelids in faint shades of red and purple.

He pulls it down when his phone vibrates, and he looks at it dejectedly, his eyes hooded as the screen lights up and it buzzes against the floor. When he lifts his head he can read Jens’s name on the screen, but he lets his head fall and he rolls away before he can read what Jens is saying.

He stares at the blank wall, biting his trembling lip when his phone buzzes again.

And again.

And again.

- - -

Lucas only comes out from under the blanket when he can’t stay still any more, when he gets tired of bouncing his foot against his mattress and tapping his fingertips against the floor with his hand hanging off the side of his bed just to hear the noise.

His father still hasn’t returned, (Lucas wonders briefly where he is, where he could be. Out drinking? With friends? Lucas would be surprised if he has any.) but Lucas still walks as lightly as possible to the kitchen, carefully stepping over the creaky floorboards in the hallway like his dad is going to come out of nowhere.

He opens the fridge (to stare for a while before shutting it and leaving it like he usually does), but stops when he sees his forgotten coffee.

The mug is cold to the touch so he pours it into a bigger glass with some ice and sticks a straw in it, taking a sip and wincing at its bitterness (though he doesn’t bother finding more sugar) as he goes back to his room.

He kicks some paper out of the way when he enters his room, navigating it in the sudden dimness he hadn’t noticed until now. There’s light coming through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the floor, and they shift like illusions as the papers slide across the floor.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick them up. He barely spares them a glance. He knows them well. He could redraw them in his sleep.

They’re all people. Some of the pages are covered with messy pencil sketches of Kes and Jayden and Isa and Noah, smudged and blended under Lucas’s hand. He never fixed them, or tried to avoid the smudges. None of the drawings felt like real drawings, like actual portraits he wanted to put effort into. They just made him feel better. Some of them are random people from the internet, photos he’s screenshotted from Pinterest, because he likes the slope of their noses and the angle of their eyes.

And then there’s Jens.

Lucas is embarrassed, if he’s honest. He’d never show them to anyone. He barely even looks at them himself, except the few times he gets stuck, looking at it like Jens is right in front of him, even though he’s only ever seen him in Instagram photos and over Facetime and Skype.

Some of his drawings even capture the graininess of the photos, the blur of his screen as Jens grins at him. (Somehow the drawings give Lucas the same swoop in his stomach and flutter in his chest.)

Lucas sets his coffee on the ground next to his mattress before grabbing the drawings off the ground, quickly, rushed, his cheeks burning even though he’s completely alone. He stuffs them into a box, ignoring the way they bunch and wrinkle and fold so they fit before he slams it shut, pressing the worn and papered tape over the seam harshly so it stays closed.

He grabs his phone from the ground before flipping onto his bed, huffing and leaning against the wall before picking up the coffee and taking a few gulps to nurse his headache. (Though the caffeine probably won’t help much in the long run.)

He scrolls through his notifications as he sips the coffee.

Jens hey do you wanna zoom with the guys?? lucas???? l u c a s lu :(((

Moyo bro you there?? we miss you 💔

Robbe hey we’re video chatting if you want to join! :)

Aaron lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas

Jens is everything okay? call me when you want

The final message was sent a while after the others, and Lucas’s chest tightens.

He takes one last gulp of coffee before he sets the cup down (the ice cubes were watering it down anyway) and slides back so his head is propped up against his tower of pillows, and he calls him.

He answers quickly, before Lucas’s head is even settled.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says lightly, and even his expression softens. “‘S fine.”

Jens is quiet for a second before he says, “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

Lucas really can’t tell if it’s a question or not. Either way, his face falls and he squeezes his eyes shut as he inhales deeply. Jens can see right through him.

“Not really,” he says quietly.

“That’s okay,” Jens says softly. “Would you rather talk about how Nick is definitely in love with Gatby?”

Lucas startles and scoffs before a giggle is ripped right out of his chest.

“What?”

“You don’t see it? It’s so obvious!”

“I mean— I’m not arguing with you, I just…” He closes his eyes again, grinning at the ceiling. “Do you have textual evidence?” he asks, annunciating and imitating Ms Peeters.

“Uh, the book?” Jens says sassily, and Lucas almost giggles again. He can just imagine the furrow of Jens’s eyebrows and jut of his chin. “He follows Gatsby everywhere, he’s all he thinks about!”

I’d follow you anywhere.

“He’s the narrator,” Lucas says, ignoring the thought.

“Okay, and why do you think— What’s his name? Fitz— Fitzgerald?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why do you think Fitzgerald chose to make Nick the narrator instead of choosing to use third person narration?”

Lucas pauses, processing his question.

“What, are you my final?”

A laugh bursts out of Jens.

“I don’t know,” Lucas sighs. “Why do you think?”

“Uh…” Jens sighs thoughtfully and there’s a rustle of fabric. Lucas wonders if he’s laying down too. “I think he just thought the gays needed a win.”

Lucas laughs loudly, rolling onto his side and shaking head, his eyes squeezing shut under his smile.

“I don’t think people were that invested in us back then,” he says as he settles.

And then he freezes, his eyes flying open.

He didn’t mean to let out so soon.

He’d been thinking about it, how to go about telling Jens that he’s embarrassingly gay without scaring him off. (Though he also reminded himself that Jens’s best friend is gay. Though, he also reminded himself, Robbe’s known Jens a lot longer than he has.)

He stayed up last night with it on his mind, whether it’s worth it or not, telling Jens he’s gay, and risk Jens thinking he likes him. (He wouldn’t be wrong, of course. That’s another thing that kept Lucas up: the way the mere thought of him, or his voice, makes Lucas’s heart flutter, makes his breath shorten, the way the fucking thought of seeing him in person makes Lucas gasp in excitement. He has it bad.)

“Maybe not, but you don’t think Fitzgerald was a little gay?” Jens says, paying no mind, and Lucas’s eyes open to the stack of boxes in front of him.

“What?” he says, laughing.

“You don’t think so?”

“He had a wife.”

“Oh, did he?”

“Yeah, her name was Zelda.”

“That’s a dope name. Okay, whatever, he had a wife. Sure. He still could have been a little gay.”

“I guess?”

“No straight person speaks that poetically.”

Lucas snorts, rolling over more until he’s almost laying on his stomach. He rests his chin on her forearm, holding his phone to his ear as he looks outside, seeing the city between the blinds.

“Then that would prove that Nick is gay, not Gatsby.”

“I never said Gatsby was gay,” Jens says, followed by another rustling sound and a soft huff of breath, like he’s mirroring Lucas. “Just the author. And Nick.”

“So it’s about unrequited romance?” Lucas says, his chest tightening slightly. He takes a deep breath as quietly as he can, feeling suddenly like his lungs won’t fill quite right.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jens says softly. “He’s watching Gatsby fall in love with Daisy, that’s heartbreaking.”

Lucas swallows.

“Gatsby was already in love with Daisy.”

“Right.” Jens takes a breath and Lucas closes his eyes for a second. He wonders what it would be like to fall asleep like this, with his phone pressed to his ear, with Jens’s voice whispering to him. “Nick was falling in love with Gatsby, and watching Gatsby be in love with someone else. Is that worse?”

Lucas thinks for a second, about the day, the second he realised his crush on Kes.

He was sitting across the table from him at a cafe, and Kes had kicked him in the shin by accident before looking under the table and kicking him again. Lucas had laughed and tried to kick him back but missed, kicking the table so hard it jostled, and Kes burst with laughter as Lucas hissed “Shit!” and grabbed the edge of the table to steady it.

Lucas had listened to Kes laugh. And looked at the way Kes was looking at him, his eyes bright with amusement. He’d even dropped his phone to laugh before setting his forehead on the table when Lucas shushed him, seeing a woman at another table turn to look.

And he remembers watching Kes fall for Isa.

Watching kiss her and pull her close when all Lucas wanted to hold his hand.

“I think it might be.”

Jens hums thoughtfully.

“We could write an essay about that.”

“Oh,” Lucas says, blinking. “We could.”

“Ms Peeters would definitely like it. She likes in-depth analyses. Even if they make no sense.”

Lucas chuckles, trying to forget about Kes.

It’s not hard to forget right now.

Not with Jens’s voice in his ear.

“We still have to finish reading it,” Lucas says.

“Of course.” Jens sighs. “I can see why you like it so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

They’re quiet for a second, and Lucas looks out the window. It’s dark now, and there are still bright windows scattered around the city. The street lamp across the street from his building flickers. Lucas wonders if stars flicker before they go out too.

“Lu?” Jens says softly, and Lucas closes his eyes. No one ever called him that before Jens. (No one does now either. He wonders if anyone else will. He hopes not.)

“Mmhmm?”

“Are you better now?”

“Yeah,” he says after a pause. “I am, actually.” You have that effect on me, he doesn’t add.

“Do you wanna talk about it now?”

Lucas smiles softly. It doesn’t feel like Jens is just curious. Like if Lucas were to say no, Jens would just say that’s okay.

Which gives him more bravery.

“It’s just…” he starts, huffing softly. “My dad. I’m so sick of him.”

Jens hums quietly.

Lucas squeezes his eyes shut and his lip quivers.

“I just—” he chokes. “I’m so fucking tired of this place.”

“Which place?”

“Just— I don’t know,” he says before burying his face in his arm. “This city, this apartment.” He lifts his head. “Mainly this apartment. All these fucking boxes.”

“When we— When we can meet up,” Jens stammers out, “I’ll take you places.” He sounds so sincere, so desperate, that Lucas’s heart squeezes. He shuts his eyes, hanging onto every word. “Wherever you want. Wherever we can go. I’ll leave Lotte with my dad, and we can stay out as long as you need to.”

Lucas muffles a sob into his arm, clutching the phone like a lifeline.

“And until then we can call whenever you want, and we can call my friends—” He cuts off. “Oh!”

Lucas rubs his face on his sleeve, letting out a breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, uhm…”

Lucas can sense his hesitation, and smiles.

“Tell me.”

“My friends and I were gonna have another call, I thought you’d like to join?” He pauses again. “The guys, but also some others.”

“Will they like me?” Lucas asks, only half joking. His voice is small.

“Of course.”

“When?”

“I don’t know yet, probably Friday? But they talked about Thursday, I’ll text you when we figure it out.”

“Okay.”

“And you can call or text any of them whenever, if you need a distraction or…”

“Jens?” Lucas whispers after a quiet second.

“Yeah?”

Lucas shuts his eyes again.

“Thank you.”

- - -

There aren’t many other people Lucas talks to from school. He exchanges messages with Mohamed from literature for a little bit, but the conversation doesn’t really go anywhere. The only other message he gets is from a girl, Élina, who he doesn’t recognise, but most of her posts were photographed at school. (Lucas wandered around the campus after arriving in Antwerp, just to see. There was no one there, save for an older woman who looked at Lucas disdainfully.)

Her message, heyyyyy youre new right?, makes Lucas cringe, reading it in the same voice as the girls that used to approach him at parties. The girls that he would flirt back with, doing everything in his power to ignore the uncomfortable churn in his stomach, the twisting of his nerves as the girls reached out and pushed his curls back or brushed their fingertips over his jaw and freckles. It made him so viscerally uncomfortable that for a while he wondered if he could be attracted to anyone at all. He even did research, finding out about the spectrums of asexuality and aromanticism, trying to find what fit, but nothing ever did. It was then that he decided he should probably experiment, and eventually he realised he doesn’t mind hands touching his hair and face softly or eyes looking at him like that when it’s another boy.

He still pretended, though. Even when his phone had the notifications set to not appear on his screen, notifications from pretty boys and their photos and slick words, he would press girls against walls and listen to their giggles and whispers, ignoring the ugly thoughts he couldn’t stop thinking.

He’s tired of pretending.

So when Élina sends him a message one night as he waits for Jens to get Lotte to sleep, a message that reads sooo do you have a girlfriend 👀, he sets his jaw and takes a deep breath before responding.

élina i’m gay

She responds with the laughing emoji, and he waits as she types, until lol no worries appears, followed by lucky boys ;).

He exhales and responds with a smiley face.

- - -

“Hey,” Lucas says softly when Moyo appears on his screen.

“Hey,” he says back, whispering. “Why are we quiet?”

Lucas chuckles, wrinkling his nose at him.

“My dad’s in the living room,” he explains. “You don’t have to be quiet. I have headphones.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Where is everyone?”

“They’re coming,” Moyo says, checking his phone. “How’ve you been?”

Lucas hesitates, wondering if he should tell him anything he’s told Jens. But he doesn’t want to fuck up the mood before the party’s even started.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ve been doing homework and stuff.”

“Gross.”

“Copying Jens’s maths.”

“As you should.”

“Oh my god!” Lucas says, setting his laptop on his bed as he remembers suddenly.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I just…” He pauses as he reaches to grab his sketchbook from the ground next to him. “I had something for you, I just remembered.” He sits back to see Moyo’s eyebrows raised.

“For me?”

“Something to show you, yeah.” He grabs his phone. “I’ll text you a picture, hold on.”

He waits as it sends, awkwardly tilting his head back and forth until Moyo lets out an Oh!

“Holy— Oh my god!” His voice has risen several octaves, and Lucas giggles, his eyes squinting under his grin. “That’s me!”

“Yeah!”

“You actually— Oh my god.” Moyo pulls his phone close to his face, hiding himself from Lucas as he looks at the photo of the sketch more intently.

“I said you have a nice face.”

“Lucaaaassss,” Moyo whines, and Lucas giggles again, leaning down and resting his chin on his hands happily. “This is so cool.”

Lucas is relieved, if he’s honest. He’d done the drawing late last night, looking back and forth between his sketchbook and a photo from Moyo’s Instagram.

“You like it?”

Moyo lets out an indignant noise, looking at Lucas with wide eyes.

“I fucking love it, bro.”

“Yeah?”

Moyo’s box shifts as Lucas grins at him, and Jens appears next to him.

“Hey,” Jens says brightly as Lucas’s eyes move to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I show him, Luc?” Moyo asks excitedly, and it takes Lucas a second to rip his eyes away from Jens’s pixelated face to answer, “Yeah, course.”

“I’ll text it.”

“What’s going on?” Jens asks, confused, and a little thrill goes through Lucas at the sight of his wrinkled brow.

“Lucas drew me!”

Jens’s eyebrows raise and he grins.

“Yeah?”

Lucas’s face burns when Jens receives the photo, when Jens exclaims that it’s so fucking good, man, when Jens looks up at him through the camera, and Lucas can feel his eyes on him, his delight.

“You wanted to draw someone and you chose Moyo?” Jens asks, grinning as Moyo lets out an offended “Hey!”

Lucas’s face burns again, and he hopes Jens (and Moyo, he supposes) can’t see his cheeks bloom. He shrugs, forcing a grin.

“I said he has a nice face.”

As Moyo playfully shoos at him, saying “Oh, stop it,” and looking back at the drawing, Jens’s eyebrows quirk up and his eyes widen as he leans forward slightly.

Oh.

Oh no.

Lucas glances at Moyo, who is still looking down, and then back at Jens, shaking his head. Jens’s brows raise more and he starts to smile, starts to beam, amusement in his eyes.

No, Lucas mouths, shaking his head harder, but before they can continue their silent conversation, the boxes shift again and a girl’s voice says, “What’s up, fuckers?”

“Luca,” Moyo says indignantly, as Jens laughs. It takes Lucas a second to look away from Jens to the girl, who has her hand clapped over her mouth.

“I don’t know you,” she says, dropping it and leaning close. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “We’re basically already friends.”

“I’m Luca,” she says, holding a hand out to the camera.

“Lucas.”

He copies her and they shake, both laughing lightly.

“Where is everyone?” Luca asks.

“They’ll be here soon,” Jens says.

It takes a little while for them all to arrive.

Zoë comes in next (she smiles when Lucas compliments her hair), followed by Aaron and Amber who, Lucas has to agree with Aaron, is very pretty. Not Lucas’s type (obviously), but pretty nonetheless. Robbe and Sander arrive next, almost simultaneously, and after an onslaught of teasing from Moyo and Luca, Jens interrupts to tell Lucas to show Sander his art.

“Uhhh…” Lucas grabs at his phone before looking up again. “Moyo.”

“On it,” Moyo says sharply, looking away and lifting his phone.

Lucas flushes under Sander’s praise.

Yasmina joins next, already smiling as she appears on Lucas’s screen. She’s wearing a yellow hijab, and the brightness of her smile with the soft fabric makes Lucas think of the sun. (He tells her, exclaiming “You look like sunshine!” to which she responds with a squeal and a bright, flushed, broad smile.)

Jana appears last.

She’s smiling when she appears too, but it’s a smaller smile, almost sad.

“Hey,” Zoë says when Jana’s arrival interrupts conversation. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jana says dismissively. “Where’s the new kid? I gotta find you.” Her eyes scan her screen and Lucas waves his hand. “Ah!”

“Lucas,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Jana,” she says with a smile.

She’s sweet. Her laugh is nice.

Lucas knows he doesn’t really have a reason to not like her. But he can’t seem to help it as he listens to her tease Jens, to Jens tease her. As he watches Jens’s eyes while Jana speaks, as he watches Jana’s eyes as Jens speaks. There’s nothing for him really to go on, nothing really to suggest anything between them except Lucas’s overthinking.

He can’t stop overthinking.

He can’t even tell if Jens’s eyes are really softening when Jana speaks or if it’s just Lucas’s mind telling him they are, or if Jens is really saying Jana in a certain way.

(He can’t really tell if Jana is Daisy or not.)

It’s dark when everyone leaves. Dark dark. In everyone’s room, except Amber, who leaves all her lights on, including a lamp next to her. Zoë leaves first, because We have school tomorrow!, followed by Robbe because he’s actively falling asleep.

Jana leaves last, still chatting with Jens, who involves Lucas for his input. It’s sweet, especially as Lucas just… sits there, listening and watching.

He still gives her a friendly bye-bye wave when she leaves. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is. And she really is nice.

“So,” Jens says firmly when it’s just them, rocking forward and making the same face he did earlier, when Moyo wasn’t looking.

“No,” Lucas answers, already shaking his head.

“You don’t know what I’m gonna say!” Jens exclaims, delighted. His voice is hushed, and he’s wearing headphones (he’d gotten them out about halfway through the call), looking awfully lovely.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say, and the answer is no.”

“No what?”

“No,” Lucas insists, not really wanting to say it. “I don’t have a crush on Moyo.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jens makes a face full of doubt, complete with raised eyebrows and a downward tilted chin.

“I don’t.”

“You said he has a nice face,” Jens teases.

“He does,” Lucas insists. “But so does… Yasmina. That doesn’t mean I have a crush on her.”

“…Okay, fair.”

Lucas doesn’t tell him about the drawings.

The ones stuffed into the boxes in his room, hidden away where he doesn’t have to see them, the ones of photos from Jens’s Instagram, the ones of subtle screenshots Lucas takes during their Facetime calls, the ones of Jens focussing on his maths homework while Lucas pretends to pay attention. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tell him about them. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with them.

“What did you think of the girls?” Jens asks, setting his chin on her forearm. He’s laying on his stomach, and Lucas wants to memorise the image: Jens looking up at him with sleep in his eyes, looking awfully precious.

“They’re really nice,” Lucas says honestly. He almost mirrors him, but instead he moves onto his side, resting his legs around the laptop and laying on his head on a curled arm. “Amber makes me think of someone I know in Utrecht.”

“Is she also a human strawberry?”

Lucas blinks.

“Actually, yeah. That’s…”

“I’m a genius,” Jens sighs, and Lucas makes a face.

“Fuck you,” Jens laughs, his eyes squinting, and then closing completely as he yawns into his arm.

“You should sleep.”

“You should sleep,” Jens retorts, laying his head down and looking at Lucas. His eyelids are low. Lucas’s heart skips a beat. “I don’t wanna go to bed,” Jens complains, oblivious to Lucas’s internal crisis of the admiration of sleepy Jens.

“We have school tomorrow,” he points out.

“You’re worth it,” Jens mumbles.

And Lucas fucking f a l l s .

“Cheesy bitch,” he says, ignoring his heart’s free-fall, and Jens giggles. It’s a sleepy laugh, raw and unfiltered, and Lucas smiles at it.

“Jens?” Lucas asks softly after a minute, and Jens’s eyes flutter open. Maybe he was asleep. But he smiles when his eyes settle on Lucas.

“Mmhmm?”

“Did you mean it? That you… That you’ll take me around when we can meet up?”

Jens’s brows furrow for a second and he lifts his head.

“Yeah, of course.” He sets his chin on his arm. “I’ll take you wherever. We’ll have to stay distanced for a while but…” He shrugs. “I’ll keep you out of your apartment.”

Lucas nuzzles into his arm and Jens lays his head down again, still looking at him.

“You don’t think it’ll be awkward?” Lucas says. “Last time I met up with someone from the internet it was super awkward.”

He doesn’t mention that he’d met the boy on a dating app, and that they’d hooked up and left.

“I won’t let it be,” Jens says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll let my full extrovert personality come out.” He sighs. “You can be awkward if you want. I won’t.”

“Okay,” Lucas whispers. He’s not sure if Jens hears.

#i dont even remember the last time I updated this #idek if anyones reading it lmao #but yall i swear im still writing this #i have a lot going on but I haven't abandoned my boys #anyway #go stretch and drink water #eat something yummy #tell someone you love them #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fic #skam nl fic #vds #van der stoffels #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #while the world ends around us (make believe with me) #ninety percent of the things i made italicized arent italicized im so mad what the fuck @ ao3

[writtenmemxries]

You’re the bee’s knees.

Some fluff to heal our souls after that Variety interview that killed us all. :)

Also... what if I created a tag list? Would anyone want to be added? 

[Destiel; set in 15x14; 1.6k words]

“This is stupid,” Dean muttered to himself as he looked at one of the big tables in the bunker, on which Mrs. Butters had displayed dozens of coloured sheets of paper, glitter, glue, and many other decorative things that he found simply disgusting.

“This is fucking stupid.”

Mrs. Butters gave him a fiery look.

Dean rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. “Right. Sorry. Language.”

He sighed, glancing back at the table that looked like a kindergarten child’s desk. “I’m not gonna do this.”

“Why not?” Jack asked. He had already sat down and was now fiddling with the coloured sheets, looking for a yellow one, his favourite colour.

Dean snorted. “Because it’s stupid.”

Jack frowned at him. “Why?”

“Because-” Dean began. He sighed again, shaking his head. “Whatever. It just is.”

He walked resolutely towards the corridor, determined not to take part in that absurd creative activity. It was embarrassing enough that Sam had accepted to do it with a smile. He wasn’t going to be duped by their son’s smile and puppy dog eyes. No way.

“Dean,” Mrs. Butters called. He stopped and turned to look at her. No, she wouldn’t have convinced him either.

“What’s the matter? Valentine’s Day is an important feast day and as such it deserves to be celebrated! After all, love is what keeps us alive, isn’t it?”

Dean snorted a laugh. “No offense Mrs. Butters, but my brother and I- guns are what keeps us alive.”

Mrs. Butters looked at him in shock, an expression of deep sorrow on the round, plump face of the lovely lady who, up until then, had cared for them with such love. Love.

Dean hesitated. He looked at Jack again, then at Sam, who gave him an encouraging smile. Love.

He looked around with undisguised unease. He crossed his arms and sighed, shifting his weight from side to side, then walked over to the table.

“All right. Whatever.”

Jack’s face lit up as he stared at him with those big, loving eyes of his. Love.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Jack asked confused after a bit, looking at the yellow paper in his hands.

Sam smiled. “You make a card.”

“A card,” Jack repeated, frowning.

“Yes Jack, a card. A Valentine Day’s card. Just, it’s a little different from the usual Valentine’s Day.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“How is it different?” Jack asked.

Okay, enough.

“God, kid, you wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day in the first place,” Dean exclaimed, holding a blue card in his hands. “Do you even know what it is?”

Jack looked at him vaguely offended. “Yes. It is the celebration of love.”

Ah, right. Love. Again.

“Yeah Jack, but, you see, it’s usually a couple’s thing. They exchange gifts, they go out to dinner,” Sam said, casting a not-exactly-loving look at his brother. “They give each other cards,” he continued with a smile.

Dean rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. God, it never seemed to end.

“Yeah, middle school kids exchange cards,” he muttered sarcastically to himself, but Sam seemed to hear him.

“Dean, can you at least act like you’re having fun? For Jack?” he whispered.

“Look, Sam, this is bullshit and you know it. We’re not primary school kids making silly cards with glue and glitter and drawings. What should we do, write some cheesy pick-up lines?” Dean said annoyed.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Well... Yes?”

“Alright. And who are you gonna give it to, Eileen?”

Sam blushed. “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I won’t. It’s just for fun. Jack wanted to do this.”

Dean’s gaze softened.

“Does it have to be romantic love? Can’t I make a Valentine’s Day card for you?” Jack interrupted them.

“You do you, kid. But then you’ll give it to Samantha, not me,” Dean replied grinning.

Jack nodded enthusiastically and got to work, fiddling with the glitter, while Sam neatly folded his red card and Mrs. Butters looked at them with a satisfied smile.

Dean turned his attention to the paper in front of him. Blue. Damn, he really was an idiot, what was he even doing?

He glanced nervously at Sam, who was trying to figure out how to open the tube of silver glitter. He bit his lip and hesitantly grabbed a white, blank piece of paper and coloured pencils.

It’s such a stupid thing, he thought. But he said nothing. Instead, he set about drawing a bee. Or at least, something that should have looked like a bee. He hadn’t had much time to practice drawing as a child, y’know, but in the end he could say he was partially satisfied with the result. He glued the smiling bee onto the blue card, tongue between teeth as he worked with extreme precision.

It was stupid, but he wanted it to be perfect. Cas deserved a perfect card, right? Not that he intended to give it to him or that he was thinking about him while drawing, of course. Obviously.

With a big silver felt-tip pen, Dean wrote “You’re the bee’s knees” on the card. He looked at the final result with a faint smile. How stupid. He was stupid. Stupidly in love.

“Bees, huh?” Sam said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Dean silenced him. “It’s just a stupid card. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sam said smiling. “I wouldn’t throw it away if I were you, though, Someone might like it, y’know.”

Dean looked at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. He felt his cheeks heat up and turn red as the thoughts in his head whirled.

No way he was going to give that card to Cas. No way Sam was thinking about that. No way Sam knew.

“I think I’m done!” Jack exclaimed enthusiastically, showing them his drawing.

“This is Castiel,” he explained, pointing to a figure in what looked like a messy trenchcoat. “This is you, Sam,” and he pointed to a tall, long-haired, smiley man that made Sam laugh heartily. “And this is Dean.”

Dean looked at the drawing. “Why am I standing so close to Cas? Wait, are those- dude, did you draw me freakin’ bow-legged?”

Jack looked at him confused. “You always stand so close to Castiel.”

“Okay, I call this a night. Let’s go to bed, Jack,” Sam said, grabbing him gently by the shoulders.

Jack looked at them in confusion. Dean could feel his ears heat up, his heart was thumping uncomfortably in his chest.

“It is a very nice card, my dear,” Mrs. Butter said softly, pointing to the blue card Dean still had in his hands.

With his face on fire, Dean muttered a quick “Thank you” and went to his room. He couldn’t sleep much, however. He kept tossing and turning in bed, thinking of blue eyes and chapped lips, tan trenchcoats and blue ties.

In the dim light, he glanced at the card on the nightstand. 

Stupid bullshit, Dean thought as he stood up. He took the card and, as quietly as possible, he walked to the angel’s room.

When Castiel returned to the bunker three days later - three incredibly busy days later - he was surprised to find a note on his bedside table.

Intrigued, he gently touched the bee that beamed at him on the paper. He ran a finger over the silver writing. “You’re the bee’s knees.” He frowned. Bee’s knees?

His gaze fell to the lower right corner, where he noticed Dean’s name, messily scribbled. He folded the card and slipped it into his pocket.

He headed for the kitchen, where he found Dean leaning against the counter, drinking a beer.

“I found your card,” Castiel said.

Dean didn’t speak. He took another sip of his beer and clenched his jaw.

“I do not understand.”

Dean laughed bitterly. He shouldn’t have given him that stupid piece of paper.

“What’s so hard to understand?”

“Why are you comparing me to bees’ knees?” Castiel asked, squinting.

Dean stared at him in disbelief. “Dude. You can’t be serious.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused.

“It’s an expression, Cas. It means you’re great, you’re the best,” Dean sighed.

“Oh.”

They were quiet for a while, embarrassment growing in that uncomfortable silence. Dean was about to leave when Castiel spoke again.

“Why?”

Dean closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The wood nymph- we made some Valentine’s Day cards. I mean, Jack wanted to, y’know, so...” he trailed off. He didn’t dare look Castiel in the eye.

“And you made one for me.”

Dean sighed. “Look, dude, it’s not a big deal, okay, it’s just-” 

“I thought Valentine’s Day was supposed to be the celebration of romance,” Castiel noted, interrupting him.

“Yes Cas. It is.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh,” Castiel said for the second time that night.

Dean shook his head and got another beer. Okay, maybe he needed something stronger to forget about that stupid card. He went for the bottle of whiskey when Castiel spoke.

“Bee my Valentine then.”

Dean whirled around, looking at him with wide eyes. Castiel stood there, the ghost of a smile on his face.

“What?”

“Bee my Valentine,” he repeated.

Dean swallowed. “Are you- are you using a bee pick-up line on me, dude?”

“Perhaps,” Castiel said with a smirk.

Dean laughed. He approached the angel.

“What are we doing, Cas?” he whispered, inches away from his face.

“I believe humans call it flirting, Dean,” Castiel said. His eyes fell to Dean’s lips, which curved into a smile.

“Yeah,” he whispered, grabbing Castiel by the waist. “Fuck that.”

A little uncertain, he brought his lips to Castiel’s, brushing them gently. Castiel sighed content against his lips, bringing his hands to cup Dean’s cheeks in a desperate effort to pull him closer.

They kissed and kissed and kissed.

Tenderly, softly, gently.

And their hearts buzzed like bees for those kisses that tasted sweet like honey.

#i was writing this when the variety interview came out #i wrote the ending between tears #sorry if it sucks dhskfskd #i wanted to write something cute to cheer me up :) #i hope you like it!! #and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my next fics #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #destiel oneshot #deancas fic #deancas fanfic #deancas ficlet #deancas oneshot #spn fic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #jack kline #spn 15x14 #fluff #sometimes I write

[thechangeling]

Enough.

So a while ago I made a headcannon post about Ty's sexuality and the autistic exploration of sex and sexual desire. I have now written a fic about it. This ones for Alex @bedspells my very own Alyssa. Also side note I want to make it clear that yes, I still ship kitty 100%. But I've seen plenty of people write fics and headcannons about Kit exploring things with other people. There's no reason why Ty can't do the same.

Edit: Ok a long time ago this fic actually got a hate comment on Ao3 saying that I was erasing Ty's sexuality by having him hook up with a girl because he was cannonly gay due to a tweet CC made in 2013. Now I don't even have twitter and I wasn't a part of the fandom back then. Despite all of that I actually don't really consider that to be the basis of canon? And in the books he doesn't really express interest in anyone except for Kit. So as far as I'm concerned this was fair game. Not to mention gay people sometimes experiment before they realize they're gay. Especially autistic people!! And that was actually kind of the point of this fic. So maybe just keep that in mind going forward. Thanks!

Tw for mentions and discussions of sex.

Ty could count the instances he hadn't been bothered by another person's touch on one hand. This was certainly one of them. It was so late into the night it could certainly be considered the next morning. Anush, Ty and Alyssa had been doing research on Livvy and the effect she seemed to be having on a serge of demonic activity in the area.

Ty was fairly stressed about the possibility to say the least. It felt like everything was spilling away from him. Livvy, his family, his career.

Kit.

He really didn't want to think about Kit but it was difficult. It was like trying to ignore a bleeding wound that everyone kept referring to as a paper cut.

The shining lights in all of this were Anush and Alyssa. Befriending both of them had been the best part of coming to the scholomance.

Especially Alyssa.

Meeting someone who shared some of his thoughts, feelings and experiences was more then refreshing. It was liberating. Talking, laughing and crying with Alyssa about the things that no one else would understand was like a balm for Ty's soul.

At a certain point Anush had announced that he was retiring to bed and they should both probably do the same. Livvy was still floating around the room observing their work. But as time went on Ty had stopped paying as much attention to her. Now he was resting against Alyssa with his head in her lap. She was sitting on the couch in the library, carefully running her fingers through his hair and rambling on about something, Ty wasn't exactly sure what.

Ty reached up to wrap a lock of her long dark hair around his finger, then watched it spring back into place again. Alyssa's hair was wavy but not curly like- like some peoples. So it didn't spring and bounce very well. That was the interesting thing about Ali in general. So many parts of her dress and appearance were so neat and polished and well put together that Ty almost wondered what it would be like to see her more disheveled. What would it be like to grab and twist and pull until she was left with something that wasn't glossy perfect waves.

Ty panicked a little at that thought. Where exactly had that come from? He was now more then ever painfully aware of the fact that he was lying in an attractive person's lap. And his sister was still in the same room.

Ty looked up to search for Livvy but realized that she was gone. Guiltily he realized she could have been gone for awhile now. But he hadn't noticed. Lately he had been feeling further and further away from his twin and he hated it.

"Do you think stars have feelings?" Alyssa asked wistfully. Ty laughed joyfully, feeling so light and and so far away from every bad thing that had happened three years ago.

"Because I was just thinking," she continued. "Like, what if they're lonley you know?" Ty had to smile at the Alyssa charm of it all. Also the autistic perspective might have had something to do with it.

"I don't know," Ty said, sitting up. "Maybe they're like us. Maybe they like being alone." Alyssa pondered this for awhile.

"Well no one can be alone forever," she pointed out, then laughed, rolling her eyes. "God how did we get here? Remember when we were supposed to be doing actual work Ty?"

"Well we were stupid to think that would last," Ty announced matter of factly. Alyssa shrugged and leaned back against the sofa.

"Probably. Once the neurotypical left it was all downhill from there."

"I disagree, Ty said softly, meeting her gaze. "I enjoy spending time with you." Alyssa instantly smiled, the kind of beautiful, honest, heartfelt smile that allistic people wrote poetry about.

Instantly Ty was reminded of someone else, another brilliant smile.

He shook it off.

"Me too," Alyssa finally answered. Then she shook her head. "Ugh feelings. Gross."

Ty rolled his eyes at her and laughed.

Then Alyssa sat up again as she seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah I meant to ask you about Anush. Do you like him?"

Ty shrugged. "Yeah he's really nice. He's become a good friend."

Alyssa shook her head. "No, no Ty, I mean-" She paused. "I mean do you like him like you wanna date him? Or do you have romantic feelings for him?" She asked.

Ty paused. He honestly wasn't sure. He had been trying to avoid thoughts of those types of feelings for a very specific reason. A Herondale reason. But the truth was he did like really like Anush. He enjoyed being around him. Ty just wasn't sure what that meant.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "Maybe." Alyssa fiddled with her hair, rubbing it between her fingers.

"Hmm. Well do you even like boys?" She asked. "I just realised I've known you for five months now and I dont really know what your deal is," she said contemplating. "Like sexual orientation wise. I mean not that it matters, it totally doesn't," she stammered.

Ty shrugged. "It was never really relevant before. But I'm not really sure. I guess I'm fine with whatever." Alyssa beamed.

"So I guess that means you're kinda like me huh? She said happily. "I'm pansexual. Women are so beautiful and angelic and soft and squishy and awesome, but men can be good too," she mused. "I mean men are......men, but some of them aren't so bad. I mean look at you!" Alyssa tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

"Thanks," Ty responded dryly.

"Anyways you know what I mean," Alyssa waved her hand. "So are you attracted to him at least?" Ty sighed.

"Yeah I am," he admitted. "But I don't- I don't want a relationship Ali. I just can't."

Alyssa studied him for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with the Herondale pendent you wear that you always tell me never to ask questions about?"

Ty scowled. "Yes, but I don't want to talk about it." Alyssa rolled her eyes and put her hands up in surrender.

"Fucking shit fuck! Fine!" She complained. "Anyways, my point is you dont need to date him neccesarily. Just have sex with him and see how you feel?"

Ty sat up and faced her. "What?"

Alyssa laughed. "You heard me. There's nothing wrong with causal sex between consenting adults. I mean, if you want to."

Ty felt the urge to stand up to try and aliviate some of the anxiety he was feeling, but he stayed sitting.

"I've never done it before," he admitted. Ty was 19, he knew most of the people his age had already had some sort of sexual experience. But he had always been too afraid. Too afraid of people touching him and demanding things from him with harsh vague bullshit. In Ty's mind it was just another social interaction that he could screw up and then pay the price for it.

Alyssa shrugged. "It's no big deal. Virginity is just a social construct anyways." Alyssa was playing with her hair casually and biting her lip slightly, to indicate that she was mulling something over.

Ty shook his head trying to explain it. "No, it's- I mean see, you say that, but, one of the things I've learned about this world is that social constructs kind of matter to a lot of people." Ty was taping his fingers against his leg and trying to stop himself from shaking. Alyssa noticed this.

"Because people tell you that's it's no big deal and not to worry, and then other people make it into a big deal like it means something, and then everyone's telling you to do something different," Ty explained with a panicked, rushed voice. "I don't know who you listen to, or what to do!" He was moving his hands frantically while he spoke to emphasize his points.

"Hey it's ok," she cooed, inching towards him. "Trust yourself. Or if you feel like you can't, then trust me." Ty felt a pang in his chest. A cacophony of conflicting emotions erupted within him. But mostly he found that despite his better judgement he actually believed her.

They had created something different between the two of them. Something that almost transcended labels or rules or traditional allistic boundaries. Alyssa was like the armor he put on every morning, with the strength and confidence that he wasn't alone in this world. In the midst of all of their jokes and late night heartbreaking conversations. In the midst of this fragile peace they had created, there was something there. Something indescribable.

Something like the sound of the page being turned in one of his Sherlock novels, or the sound of their favourite songs. A connection. A lifeline.

Ty looked over at Alyssa's concerned face and smiled softly. "I trust you," he promised. "I don't really trust many people, but I've always trusted you," he admitted. Alyssa inhaled sharply. She made an interesting facial expression that might have been a facial stim and then gaped for awhile before finally closing her mouth and avoiding Ty's gaze.

"Yeah that's cool. I trust you too," she said casually. She had gone back to pulling at her poor hair which was shedding everywhere. Anush always joked that he could always tell where Alyssa was by following the trail of hair.

"So, about the whole sex thing," she continued rather unceremoniously. Ty had to laugh a little. "Do you think it's something you're actually interested in? Or do you just feel like you have to?" She asked.

Ty pondered this for a moment. "I think I might want to. I just want to be with someone that I trust. Someone who will be considerate of my boundries, you know?" Ty did a quick glance around the room to make sure Livvy was still gone.

"Wait she's not here right?" Alyssa asked anxiously, catching on. Ty shook his head.

Alyssa paused for a moment, looking lost in thought. She was flicking her fingernails against each other and continuing to murder her bottom lip by chewing on it. Finally she looked up at him, looking rather amused.

"Ok. This might just be the exhaustion talking, or the autism, or a combination of both. So if you feel uncomfortable with what I'm about to say, then afterwards we can just forget it ok?" Alyssa sounded serious. Ty just nodded, trying not to be concerned.

Alyssa gave him an interesting look, one that he was pretty sure he had never recieved before. Her eyes scanned him up and down, then she smirked.

"I could potentially offer my services," she said innocently. Ty blinked a few times, then continued to stare at her. She stared back unflinching.

Wait. What?

Ty shook his head in confusion. "Hold on. Wait. You mean-?" He cut himself off. Alyssa nodded with that same smirk. "Yeah I mean why not right?" She shrugged, relaxing back against the sofa. "But if you dont want to then that's totally fine."

"Wait." Ty attempted to clear his head and stay focused. He stayed frozen for awhile, thinking. Then he folded his arms around himself, applying pressure. "Why exactly?"

Alyssa shrugged again. "Well why not? You're hot. I'm hot, and besides you know me," she pointed out. She paused, and then giggled.

"Four hours into investigating the paranormal phenomenon of his dead twin sister and chill, then she offers to take his virginity," she cackled. "I so enjoy our quality time together."

"The way your mind works really concerns me sometimes, you know that?" He asked playfully. Alyssa rolled her eyes at him and shoved him gently.

"Hey you don't have to, it was just an idea," she said, raising her hands in defense. Ty was silent. He was still thinking about it.

"Most people don't really do stuff like this right?" He asked warily. "Like most friends don't just randomly hook up and then laugh it off later."

Alyssa shook her head slowly. "Honey do you see me laughing?"

Ty was conflicted. There was something in him, a new, complicated feeling. A burning desire that nagged at the back of his mind everytime Alyssa bit her lip or pouted.

If he was really honest with himself. Ty could remember another time when he felt this way. But that was different, that was-.

He shook his head. No. Ty wasn't thinking about that anymore. He needed a distraction.

"God I can practically hear you thinking over here Ty," Alyssa teased. "Listen. If it freaks you out to much then we can forget about it. But-." She paused and reached towards him. Their fingertips met and she slowly dragged her fingertips down the top of Ty's hand.

"I want to do this for you because I care about you," she said solemnly. "I want make you feel good. Because you're special, and I dont mean that in the bullshit ableist way. I mean I think that you're special because you have such a big heart and you care so much," she said with a laugh.

Ty felt like he was about to cry. He was taking in long deep breaths trying not to get overwhelmed. He didnt know how to respond to this, this kind of attention and praise. His heart felt warm and tight absorbed in so much fondness and melancholy and regret all at once.

He knew this wasn't anything like what had happened that day on the beach. This wasn't that kind of love that he was feeling for Alyssa and that was a good thing. Romantic love, he decided, was too complicated.

"You deserve good things and good experiences. You deserve to have your first time be somewhere familiar. Somewhere you feel safe, and with someone who loves you." Alyssa wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"God sorry for getting all emotional like that," she joked.

Ty couldn't speak, so he just squeezed her hand. He hoped she would understand.

I love you too.

Ty took a breath, then nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. "Yeah I want that. I want you."

Alyssa exhaled, then grinned. "Ok then. Great. I'll see if I can pencil you in sometime this week," she joked. Ty cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Oh," he murmered, suprised with how disappointed he felt. "You mean later?" Alyssa laughed.

"Well yeah, I mean aren't you tired?"

"Are you?" Ty countered.

Alyssa shrugged. "Hey you know how it is, autistic sleep cycle. I'm gonna be up for awhile. I just figured you might want some time to think."

Ty shook his head. "No I don't want to think anymore. I'm tired of thinking Ali. I'm tired of worrying and overanalyzing everything." His eyes met hers, she seemed a little worried.

She moved closer to him so that she was practically in his lap. "You need a distraction," she said matter of factly. "It's ok." She moved her hands from his arms to grasp his waist.

"Is this good?"

Ty flinched. "More pressure," he replied in a tone that was hopefully not too demanding. Alyssa pressed her fingertips down harder into his skin. A soothing feeling washed over him.

"Good?" She asked, scratching his skin with her fingernails. Ty just nodded, feeling slightly dazed.

Alyssa smiled, lowering herself gracefully into his lap. Everything she did was with precision and grace. Alyssa was a dancer. It was one of her special interests. She had stopped taking lessons a long time ago though because she found it challenging to dance in a group.

She could never copy what everyone else was doing exactly on count when she was supposed to. She was always going off and improvising on her own. There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere.

Alyssa's weight against him was comforting. She was moving her hands up and down his back underneath his shirt while still applying pressure. Ty felt heat beginning to pool in the base of his stomach. He stared at her curiously, taking in her soft curves and her smooth golden skin.

"Can I touch you?" Ty asked, feeling his fingers twitch.

Alyssa moved her hands to his chest. "Sure." She said softly. "Just be careful. Remember pressure and all of that, and try to avoid my stomach area. For some reason it's really sensitive." Ty nodded, instantly reaching for her long wavy dark hair and twisting his fingers around it, pulling slightly. She laughed.

This drew Ty's attention to her mouth. Her lips were cracked and rough looking from Alyssa constantly biting them, but Ty still wanted to kiss her. He had never kissed anyone before. He needed to know what it felt like.

He moved his hands to her shoulders and then to her sides, pulling Alyssa even closer. "Can you teach me how to kiss?" He asked looking her in the eye briefly. She snorted.

"I don't think you'll like it very much," she murmered. "It's not really a good sensory experience. At least not for me. Allistic people seem to like it though."

Ty nodded. "Exactly that's my point," he said, using one hand to cradle the side of her neck. "I need to learn for other people later on." He absentmindedly pressed his thumb into one of the divots in her neck, just to fill the space. Alyssa sighed and dug her fingernails into his chest.

"Ok fine but you're gonna hate the tounge thing," she breathed. She leaned down very slowly and then carefully pressed her lips to Ty's, kissing him softly.

It was a weird sensation but not entirely unpleasant. Ty happily slid his hands back into her hair and began to fiddle with a few thick pieces. Alyssa moved her own hands up his chest to cradle her face, applying pressure with thumbs against his cheekbones.

Alyssa deepened the kiss and slid her tounge into his mouth. Instantly Ty winced and felt every cell in his body seize up. But he didn't stop. He was determined to figure this out. If he wanted to kiss someone who wasn't autistic in the future then he would need to. Ty relaxed his body and kissed her back forcefully, making out with Alyssa until the uncomfortable noise in his head was too much and he broke the kiss.

Ty shook his head and Ali laughed, stroking his hair. "I fucking told you so," she exclaimed. Ty shut his eyes and allowed his breathing to return to normal.

"Ok so that's something we can forget about for now, thank god. The beauty of this whole situation is that we dont have to follow any allistic script for this sort of thing." Ty opened his eyes. Alyssa was watching him carefully, still only centimeters away from his face.

"So is there anything you want to do?" She asked him. "Just tell me and I'll see if we can make it happen."

Ty saw no need to maintain any sort of filter. "Well there are a lot of things actually, but for some reason I really want to bite you," he said pointedly, glancing down at her neck. Alyssa burst out laughing, nearly falling over.

Ty glared at her. "I'm sorry," she gasped breathlessly. "I'm sorry it's just,-," she regained her composure, shaking her head. "I just love how we all used to be the weird kids who growled and hissed at people on the playground if they bothered us and now as adults we're just super kinky. Like it's kind of poetic in a way," she laughed.

Ty rolled his eyes. There was no need to ask what she meant by we. When Alyssa said we, it only referred to one thing.

"I'm sure it's not absolutely every autistic person," he protested. "Also we should move, on account of the fact that this is still a public setting." Alysza's eyes widened as if she had just remembered that.

"Oh right. Shit, as if these people needed any more reasons to hate me. Let's go!" She rolled off of Ty and stood in front if him, holding out her hand. "We can use my room." Ty stayed sitting, taking a moment to fully absorb it all.

He couldn't help but feel the weight of the Herondale pendent against his chest as a heavy reminder. He willed himself not to get distracted. Alyssa smiled at him slightly, almost as if she knew.

"Enough," she said softly.

Ty didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't even sure if their was anything he wanted say. Then finally he understood.

"Enough," he echoed back.

He took her outstretched hand and let her take him away.

@ti-bae-rius @eutony-in-whisper @dianasarrow @dianasarrow @stxr-thxif @talia-lightwood @doitforthecarstairs @thelandunderthehilll @zfoxdraws @waterlillies

#tda #the dark artifices #tsc #twp #the wicked powers #ty blackthorn #Alyssa Reyes #autistic representation #Fae's oc