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scuderiahoney · 1 month

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3

hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words

warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams

Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.

Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.

By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.

Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.

And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.

You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.

As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”

He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”

You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”

He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”

Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”

You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.

“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.

You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.

“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”

“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.

He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.

“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”

He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.

When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.

“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”

He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”

The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.

You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”

You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.

…..

When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.

They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.

Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”

Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.

“Yeah. Good.” He nods.

Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.

When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.

At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.

…..

December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.

He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.

The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.

“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”

Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.

When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.

“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“

Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”

Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.

If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.

Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.

“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”

“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”

Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”

Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.

They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.

“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”

Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”

Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.

He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.

One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “Stressed.”

Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”

You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”

You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.

“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.

“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”

A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”

He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.

The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.

“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.

She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.

“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”

Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.

“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”

He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.

“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”

He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.

“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”

He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.

“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”

“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.

He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”

He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.

“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”

You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”

“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”

He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”

“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.

He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”

You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.

He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.

…..

When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.

“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”

So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.

Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.

“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”

You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”

He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.

“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”

He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.

He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”

The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.

“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.

You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.

He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”

You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”

Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?

When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.

He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.

“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.

He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.

“I was studying,” he says, carefully.

“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”

“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”

“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”

Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.

“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”

That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.

He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.

“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”

He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.

…..

Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.

He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.

“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”

You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.

He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”

Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.

Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”

Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.

“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”

He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.

“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.

He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”

“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”

Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”

You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.

You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.

“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.

Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.

“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”

They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.

notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!

tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

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ohcorny · 1 month

Text

so! it's been a year since i put never satisfied on hiatus, and 9 years since i started posting it, and rather than make you read everything if all you want to know is "when's it coming back?" the answer is still: don't know! but the answer has also shifted closer to "it isn't" the longer i've spent on break, and i think it's worth being up front about that.

i talked about it a little here a few weeks ago, but the long and short of it is that between taking on better paying work, writing better stories, and looking back at what i'd already done for never satisfied... i just don't think i want to continue it? the year off has been incredibly good for my mental health, and i can't see myself wanting to go back after the two-three years still ahead of me on my current project. that's not to say i never want to return to the characters or the concept, but if i did, i imagine it would be with something completely new, in a different form. after all, i started this comic when i was 21 years old, a lesbian, and a sophomore in college. i am now just shy of 30, a bi man, and overall a completely different person than i was, back when i was writing without a plan and putting all of my insecurities into the comic--insecurities i don't identify with anymore. lord i'm closer to rothart's age than i am to lucy's. hate that

anyway. you have all been extraordinarily kind for following never satisfied for as long as you have, for supporting it as much as you have, and being as patient as you have. whatever form never satisfied takes in the future (god willing, with a more cohesive story structure and A PLAN FOR THE ENDING, WHICH BY THE WAY I NEVER, EVER HAD) i hope to see you there!

in the meantime, as an update on where i'm at with the thing that made me stop working on NS: i finished it! all the pages for Hunger's Bite (if you remember it with a different title: no you don't) have been turned in and now it's just revisions and covers and then........ waiting a year until it can come out. because that's how it is in traditionally published graphic novels! nothing releases for a full year after you finished it! and you're even getting it earlier than was originally planned, because i'm a creature and finished it like three months ahead of schedule. i've also already started thumbnailing the sequel book which i can't talk about whatsoever and will now be working on that for the next two years and then HOPEFULLY the first book will have done well enough that i can sell a third! so you better buy it when it comes out next february!!!!!!

to ease you all into it, i wanted to do a little crossover to introduce the main characters. we have emery, whose design is fully and unintentionally just Seiji Again down to his color palette (but seiji would bully him if they met. like so hard. he's a wimp). then we have neeta, a girl who dreams of travel and cares deeply about worker's rights, and wick, a vampire agent investigating the mysterious and sinister new owner of the 1910s ocean liner emery and neeta call home. he's also gay. but sorry lucy, you aren't his type. you're not mean enough.

the best place to keep up with me these days is probably here, as this first book gets closer to release, i will probably be posting about it a lot. and i will certainly post about it here when there's an official release date and cover reveal! i hope you'll go read it. i really think if you liked never satisfied and its themes, you'll like hunger's bite!

thank you again for reading!!

#corndraws #hunger's bite #never satisfied

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wordsarelife · 2 months

Text

—karma

pairing: theo nott x fem!hufflepuff reader (a weasley sibling)

summary: karma is the way you wear his jersey, making sure his team will lose the game

warnings: sexual references, reader is implied to be shorter than theo

notes: i imagined the jersey a bit more like a basketball one or a lacrosse trikot

“here” theo was holding a folded shirt in your direction. you had been sitting on his bed for the past hour, leaning against the bed frame while you were reading your book.

he had spent the time laying with his head in your lap, enjoying your fingers combing through his curls, until he had stood up a few minutes ago.

“what?” you asked looking up from your book. it took you a few seconds to register that the piece of fabric in his hand was his quidditch jersey.

“here” he repeated, throwing it down on the bed.

“yeah, i heard that” you smiled, unfolding the shirt to inspect it further “is something wrong with it? does it have a hole you want me to fix or something?”

theo laughed unamused at your bad joke. “i think i have enough magical knowledge to fix it myself if it had a hole” he shook his head “i want you to wear it tonight”

“tonight?” you asked and he nodded. he was dead serious and you began to laugh. “no” you shook your head “absolutely not”

“come on, baby” he pleaded, sitting down in front of you, pushing the fabric in your direction.

“it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if you guys were playing against ravenclaw or even hufflepuff, i could care less then. but you’re playing against gryffindor, you’re playing against my brothers”

“so what about it?” theo was trying to let his eyes appear bigger than they were, knowing that it would actually help his case.

“what about it?” you repeated laughing, not falling for his tactic of manipulation “everything is wrong with that. even my house will probably be offended when they see me wearing a slytherin jersey. i mean no one really cheers for slytherin, apart from, yeah you guessed it, slytherin”

it was no secret that every house had a bit of a distaste for slytherin. even your house, hufflepuff, which was normally filled with generous and nice people, was cheering for gryffindor. and of course your brothers and your sister were in gryffindor, so it only added to the appeal of cheering for them.

“they would not” theo shook his head “and that’s offensive! a lot of people want us to win, people that aren’t in slytherin”

“name three people” you said, crossing your arms and wearing a winning smile. he was searching for words but eventually just gave up.

“baby” he muttered with that sweet voice he only used when you guys were.. let’s just say in private. you hated to admit it, but it made you weak in the knees.

“theo” you whined, noticing his hand finding a place on your thigh and his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin beneath your skirt “it’s probably way too big, it’ll look weird”

“you could never look weird” theo muttered.

you rolled your eyes, knowing that he had already tricked you into agreeing, the soft kisses he was pestering all over your face also did not help you to stay strong. “okay” you sighed, feeling satisfaction at the big smile that broke out on your boyfriends face.

you pushed the shirt into your bag next to the bed, going back to your book, theo happily cuddling back into your lap.

well, you thought, if you had to wear his shirt, their might also be a way to have fun with it and secure gryffindor’s win in doing so.

even if that way meant to possibly embarrass you in front of the whole school, including your siblings.

but what had do be done.. had to be done, or atleast you figured as much. and in the end, most of them would probably thank you for doing what was needed to make sure gryffindor won. because even though no one wanted to see slytherin win, everyone had to admit that they were strong opponents.

it was just a few hours later, that you parted ways with theo, going back to your dorm to get ready for the match.

“hey, y/n!” hannah, your roommate greeted when she saw you walk through the door.

you repeated the greeting, before you took the jersey from your bag, holding it up in front of her. “do you want to help gryffindor to win tonight?”

she smiled brightly at you, already figuring that you had something mischievous planned by how you were smiling.

it took about an hour to get you ready for the game. hannah did her best in helping you. you had put on a bit of makeup and curled your hair, but hannah had made the most important move, sticking the jersey close to your body, so that it was fitting like a tight dress, not leaving much to the imagining or much fabric to flow down your legs. you were glad that it was long enough to cover your arse, but also not long enough to keep theo’s eyes off of you.

he always got weak when he could see your legs and he had told you before that it was hard to keep his eyes away when you were wearing something tight, making him remember that there was only a thin fabric keeping your body clothed.

tonight you would use that to your advantage.

you were lucky that it was still summer, making it possible after all to wear something so revealing.

you and hannah walked into the direction of the stadium, before she hugged you goodbye quickly, walking off into the hufflepuff stand, while you walked towards where your brother and sister and your friends were sitting in the gryffindor stand. if that alone didn’t make you enemy of the night you weren’t sure what did. it was really a bit daring, sitting in the middle of the gryffindors, while wearing a slytherin jersey, but you knew that you would stick out to theo even more that way.

you slid in the seat in between ron and ginny, greeting them.

“woah” ron raised his hand, looking you up and down “what are you wearing?” his eyes had grown bigger once they had reached the end of your made up dress, probably expecting it to be a tad bit longer.

“what?” ginny asked “i think she looks terrific!”

“she does” hermione smiled next to ron.

ron could not believe what he was hearing. “are you hearing yourselves? she’s literally wearing a slytherin jers— whatever that even is”

“he boyfriend plays for slytherin” hermione shrugged, matter of factly.

ron was busy ignoring hermione and shrugging off his thin jacket. he put it around you shoulders quickly. “you’re basically naked” he argued “please cover yourself at least a bit”

“that’s slut-shaming” ginny crossed her arms and ron looked horrified at that. you almost had to laugh at your brothers expression.

“i-i didn’t mean” ron stuttered, trying to justify what he had said “i wasn’t calling you a slut, i swear”

“i know” you interrupted his rambling “it’s alright ron, i’ll wear the jacket if it makes you happy, it’ll work even better then”

“what will work?” hermione was now bending over ron, ever so interested in what you had planned.

“well, gryffindor will win tonight, let’s just say that”

“i like the sound of that” ginny rubbed her hands together.

“cheating isn’t fair, y/n” hermione furrowed her eyebrows “nor is it allowed”

“i know, hermione” you laughed “and we won’t cheat, i promise. it just happens to be amazing for me and very bad for him that my boyfriend is incredibly attracted to me”

“you’re gonna distract him with seduction?” ginny asked and she was even more excited than you. you nodded and she grinned.

“ew” ron grimaced “can’t you please keep that kind of stuff behind closed doors? i don’t want to see your boyfriend get a hard-on in the middle of the quidditch field”

you furrowed your eyebrows at your brother. “do you want to win or not?”

he seemed unsure, but then eventually nodded.

“that’s what i thought” you smiled, patting his head “it will be over faster than you will even notice it happening, i promise”

“sure” ron muttered, hiding his face in his hands.

there wasn’t time to argue about anything else, because the game began.

the minute the teams flew onto the field you were looking for theo, trying to spot him in the haze of green uniforms. your eyes landed on him eventually and you smiled.

as if he could feel your eyes on him, he turned his head at you. you took that as the perfect opportunity to get rid of ron’s jacket, pulling down the jersey a bit so your cleavage was showing. you could practically watch him slowly lose his mind.

“it’s working” ginny muttered next to you

“i know” you smirked, noticing that theo was still standing perfectly still, watching you across the field.

mattheo, who had noticed his friend had frozen in the middle of the field, took it upon himself to shake theo from his trance.

“what’s wrong with you?” he asked, pinching the boys elbow.

theo did not answer mattheos question so the latter tried to simply follow the eyes of his friend.

“shit” mattheo muttered when he noticed you sitting in the front row of the gryffindor stands, basically wearing nothing. “fuck” he added “this is even too much for me”

that seemed to have been enough to free theo from his trance “what the fuck, riddle?”

“i’m just a man” mattheo shrugged. he then just narrowly escaped theo’s hand, that had been coming close to hit him.

“get it together, man” theo rolled his eyes, concentrating back on the game, but still having you in the back of his mind.

for the first half of the game, slytherin and gryffindor were close to each other considering points, when one of them had one more, the other quickly scored the next, always keeping them even.

“i don’t think it’s working” ron said after some time of eyes jumping between either side of the field.

“it will” you assured.

and you would be right. during the second half of the game, the sides were switched and theo was now much closer to you, making it even harder for him to not look at you.

you turned your head to the slytherin side, smiling at theo and also involuntarily mattheo, who was flying next to your boyfriend.

theo was caught up in the moment once again, watching the way you flipped your hair over your shoulder or the way your lips moved as you threw a kiss in his direction.

a movement next to him made him perk up. it was mattheo once again.

“did you just catch my girlfriends kiss?” theo asked offended and a bit surprised at the same time.

“..no?” mattheo lied.

“stop lying i saw you do it” theo muttered “stop looking at her”

“how do you know the kiss wasn’t supposed for me?” mattheo asked and theo was surprised that he seemed to actually be serious.

“you mean how i know that my girlfriends kiss wasn’t for you? take a wild guess, mate”

mattheo rolled his eyes, giving theo the peace and quiet to continue looking at you.

madam hooch blew the whistle, indicating that the second half of the game had begone. while everyone started moving, mattheo and theo stayed right where they were.

their staring was eventually interrupted by one very angry malfoy. “hey idiots!” he called and theo and mattheo turned to him in surprise “how about you concentrate on the fucking game and make out with y/n later?”

“sure” mattheo and theo answered at the same time.

theo send mattheo an angry look. “you are not going to make out with my girlfriend”

“we don’t know what she’s into yet” mattheo shrugged, once again dodging a slap from his friend.

“oh we do know” theo assured, before he flew across the field, picking up his position again.

the rest of the game was going a lot less smoother than the first half. theo was missing almost every goal he was trying to throw, accidentally hitting enzo once, almost making the boy fall of the broom.

it seemed that whatever enzo did, had made him the victim of theo and mattheo slipping up. mattheo actually managed to hit enzo’s broom with a bludger, almost making him fall down onto the field. luckily blaise had been able to stabalise the broom before it could come to that.

to your surprise neither fred or george came over to ridicule you for wearing the jersey. of course you knew that they were much more laid back than ron, but more often than not they liked to play the big brothers and give theo a hard time. even if they secretly liked him.

they seemed delighted at your plan working the way it did, using theo’s distraction to their advantage, scoring multiple points in a row.

“what’s wrong with the both of you?” blaise muttered absentmindedly, when he had to, once again, call for enzo to move before mattheo’s bludger could hit him.

by the end of the game, slytherin was behind by a hundred points, enzo had a black eye from the one time theo had accidentally succeeded in hitting him instead of the goal, mattheo and theo had flown into each other multiple times and ron was wearing an impressed smile.

“well, look at that” ron said, after you had finished cheering for gryffindors win “who would’ve thought that would work?”

“eh.. me?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“me too” ginny added, hugging you from behind “our sister is a genius, ron”

“that was actually really smart” hermione complimented and you smiled at her approval.

“thanks guys” you nodded “i better go apologize to theo now though. here’s your jacket”

ron was grimacing once again “you can keep it. better put it on before you go down there”

“yeah” you nodded, before you excused yourself, rushing down the stand in the direction of the slytherin changing room.

theo was leaning against the wall, seemingly already expecting you. he was rubbing his arm and you were guessing that he probably had a few marks from crashing into mattheo that many times.

“hey, baby” you smiled.

he was not looking happy, but you knew that he wasn’t actually angry.

“you played really well” you softly held him by the neck.

“we lost” theo muttered, like you were offending him.

“i know” you lay your head to the side “but you still did your best”

“i played like a goddamn beginner” theo furrowed his eyebrow “don’t act so innocent now, i know what you had in mind”

“do you?” you smirked up at him and he was going feral by the way you quickly closed and opened your eyes, suggesting you did not know what he was talking about.

“yeah” he muttered “and it’s super unfair” his fingers down went to the zipper of ron’s jacket “and what’s even more unfair is that you’re all covered now”

“i don’t have to make sure you lose a game now” you added

“oh, totally” theo nodded “my bad”

“you know i love you baby” you whispered into his ear “so i did what you asked me to do”

theo shook his head, impressed how you could still spin this to be his own fault. “i guess you’re right” he finally gave in. “how about we go back to the castle? i still have to shower”

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to be mad at me” you smiled. “but is enzo alright?”

“he will be fine” theo said a bit too quickly. as if to prove his words to be utter bullshit, enzo walked out of the door behind the both of you, holding a cold pack to his bruising eye.

“hey y/n” he greeted once he had been able to recognize you with his other eye.

“hi enzo” you smiled sympathetically “i’m sorry about your eye and everything”

“it’s alright” enzo smiled and you were impressed that he was still this calm after literally being beat up by his best friends.

“sorry” you cringed again as you watched him walk away. he waved at you from afar. “you really did a number on him”

“totally matt’s fault” theo excused.

“totally” you nodded “so will matt be joining us for the shower?” you joked, hinting at the way the boy had been staring at you the entire time, even going as far as catching the kiss that you had clearly send in theo’s direction.

“don’t even start” theo muttered, taking your hand in his and starting to walk up back to the castle.

“maybe i should wear your jersey more often”

“we’ll burn it after this”

you giggled, before you quickened your pace to keep up with him. “maybe just in private” you assured, kissing his cheek.

theo smiled and you mirrored his expression. “i guess that would be alright”

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star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

Love Song

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

a/n: just needed to do some general hc’s to get all my thoughts in order i hope you all enjoy!!

Love song - Lana Del Rey

warnings: the formatting is weird idk why i can’t fix it but y’all will live, swearing, a little itty bitty bit of violence, every facet of clarisse finding its way here and i love them all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

i’m sure we all agree on this

but clarisse is very protective of you

even if you’re a very capable fighter, even if you’re even better than her, clarisse is still so protective of you

i mentioned this in one of my fics (maybe so it goes…????) but like the reason behind this is the fact that clarisse is just SCARED

she is terrified of losing you bc you are the only one she feels like she can be herself with

like clarisse is insane!!!!! in a good way!!!!! but also she’s a 17 year old girl…. she wants TO BE LOVED

she tries to talk to you about how she feels about her dad and about everything else in her life, but even though she doesn’t want to be, she’s locked up like a vault

she knows her emotions are always super intense and she has big reactions

major anger issues but they’ve gotten better with age

the problem is she spent her entire life being told that she needed to calm down, that she couldn’t feel like that all the time, and she just tried to shut down

obviously that did not work

but it still makes it virtually impossible to talk about her feelings

when it comes to you tho she’s an open book

she’s a daughter of ares she’s headstrong she’s proud and her fatal flaw is PRIDE

i mentioned this before but she wants everyone to know that you’re hers and she’s yours

your relationship is partly very public

she’s not afraid to touch you or kiss you

she’s not afraid to show you off and (needs to) show everyone that yes your beautiful self belongs to HER

so naturally she gets very jealous

even when you’re like clarisse you are INSANE

there’s been a few times when you first started dating and you were still getting comfortable and weren’t that public yet so like someone would flirt with you

it went like this

boy: hey what’s up you’re kinda fine

y/n: oh! oh yeah no….. no…..

clarisse: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU—

then she started attacking him

lost dessert privileges for a month, she proudly declared that it was worth it (besides you would sneak her bites of yours like)

now that everyone knows you’re hers her jealousy is rooted a lot more in delusion and insecurity

you’ll be like in a group talking someone and she’ll pull you closer and be like “i think that guys staring at you a little too much.”

“clarisse no the fuck he’s not what”

b/c of the fact that she isn’t a son for her father she gets insanely jealous if specifically a MAN gets even an inch too close however innocently

she doesn’t want to think it but she thinks you’ll eventually realize her father is right and she’s not as useful or good bc she’s a girl

most of the time when she gets jealous bc of her insecurities she just becomes extra clingy

but also any emotion she feels she gets extra clingy to you so sometimes it’s hard to tell LMAO

she isn’t really a big hand holder but that’s only because she’s actually holding you CLOSER to her by your waist

also one more note about your relationship publically

everyone gets whiplash bc like she’s a BULLY fo everyone else and then you walk over and she’s all heart eyes

i hate everyone but you trope save me

save me i hate everyone but you trope

THIS HAPPENED IN IN A GOOD WAY

clarisse: pushes percy over

you: nuh uh clarissseeeeeeee

clarisse: omg hi beautiful gf

you: touches her shoulder, looks at her disapprovingly

clarisse: fine i’ll go, *scares percy*, bye bye beautiful ily

like she’s just being a bitch and then all of a sudden you come around and she’s like hiiiiiii babyyyyy how is my gorgeous gorgeous girl today??

so outwardly clarisse is just very proud and touchy

privately she lets herself be a little more chill

this is where she really touchy you thought before was worse nah

idk if y’all have noticed but in my fics clar’s always holding on y/n’s hips and that’s just me self projecting bc i have the most horrid hip dips but my point still stands

SHE LOVES YOUR HIPS

would totally call them “love handles” IM SORRYY

but she just likes having a place to hold where she can just like kinda actually physically grab you with her hands

like yeah she can wrap her arms around your waist but she likes to GRAB you

cuddling w her is fun bc like this girl cannot get ENOUGH of you there’s only like three ways you cuddle

you on top of her whether just like completely on top of her (one of her favs) or just with your head on her chest

this is what happens whenever you feel scared

like there was a monster attack just near the barrier and you’ve all been feeling uneasy all day

TRUST you are sleeping in her bed tonight

wraps her arms around you so tight it’s like she’s crushing you

also she’s running your back or caressing your head whichever you prefer

she keeps her spear right next to her bed and makes sure you can see it so you know however subconsciously NOTHING can hurt you bc she’s right there (nothings gonna hurt you baby vibes)

or she’s on top of you this one usually happens when she’s feeling a little extra insecure and jealous and it’s like no one can see you if she’s on top of her so then you’re hers

she isn’t the smartest one in the bunch but she has good intentions!!!!

also she lays on top of you if you get hurt

like after so it goes for example when y/n got that little cut on her hand

you’re like “clar pls you’re crushing me”

“um ok you scared the shit out of me today tho you need to LET ME do this fuck”

third option

you’re both laying on your side and facing each other legs tangled together and she’s probably whispering to you

she’s a big whisperer i feel it in my heart

like tracing her hands on your face and saying your so beautiful or telling you how you make her feel

oh lord take me now

also she loves you the way hozier loves

“someone asked me in the end i’d tell them ‘put me back in it’ // darlin’ i would do it again // if i could hold for a minute”

“when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth no grave could hold my body down i’d crawl back to her”

like she BREATHES for you

if she died and then you were like “i miss you” trust she would find a way to come back to life

totally daydreams about going on such a fantastical quest that the gods offer both of you immortality so you can be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

like if the world ends y’all would still be there having a little picnic date

devotion is the only word that comes close

anyways

ok nicknames she calls you:

baby, angel, gorgeous, pretty thing/girl, beautiful, lovely, dummy (lovingly)

(recently saw a few posts abt clarisse saying mama/mamas i may be swayed)

dates she takes you on:

forces you to train w her even if you don’t like it but she lets you win OBVIIIII, under the stars in the woods, take your dinners to go and sneak back to either hers or your cabin to eat together, secret makeout sessions in the bathroom her cabin your cabin anywhere she can get her hands on you

this is so random but i get horrible migraines and i am ADDICTED to these like headache relief frequency sounds on youtube i swear they work and i was like omg you can’t have electronics at chb I WOULD NOT SURVIVE

so if you are a real one like me and get horrible migraines but this goes for being sick in general she’s like a little puppy pretending to be a wolf barely holding it together

she’ll be like at the foot of your bed begging you not to go into the light while shouting at someone at the same time to refill your water

you like have a cold

she would rub your temples if you had a headache and she would literally be like a doll for you to move around like oh you wanna lay on her chest? by all means

you wanna lay upside down with your feet in her face? as long as you get better you can do whatever you want!

you don’t wanna touch her at all? that’s where she draws the line

you’ll be like “ugh i’m hot get away from me”

“okay ☹️☹️”

“why are you touching my feet with your feet”

she places you above everyone else

like yeah other people are ok…….

but you 😍😍😍😍😍😍

this is slightly cringe but she would fr burn the whole world down and not let a flame touch you

LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN THE ANONS IVE BEEN POSTING AND THE CAPTURE THE FLAG THINGS 😱😱😱😱 (y’all always check my blog im always posting the funniest shit bc i’m funny)

“you’re one opposite teams blah blah blah you get hurt clarisse drops EVERYTHING to help you even if just a paper cut” (i have no chill fic coming soon)

THEN THEN the other one that was like “ok but what if you ACTUALLY get hurt like broken leg”

clarisse just goes crazy when you’re hurt

in so it goes: “what if that cut gets infected?”

you’re her WORLD she literally can’t stand the thought or something happening to you or else she starts literally shaking in anger and sadness

but when clarisse gets hurt it’s a whole other story

LIKE FUCK YOU JUST WANNA CARE ABOUT HER AND SHES ALL LIKE “it’s chill.”

NO ITS NOT YOURE GONNA BLEED OUT 😭😭

clarisse never let’s anyone but you see her true emotions

like yeah when you’re in public and you’re being cutesy she starts smiling and everyone is SO confused

but still

she never lets anyone see her as WEAK

so she always downplays her injuries in terms of how much they hurt, but flaunts them off proudly at the same time?? yeah that makes sense

after a capture the flag game you march her to the bathroom with a first aid kit “ok baby take off your shirt”

she always makes some flirty comment like SHUSH NOT RN

then she has all these bruises and every once in a while a cut from someone’s sword

you’re like 😔😔💔

you’re the only one she will let clean her up

unless she like breaks a bone or needs stitches (which has never happened) no way in hell she’s going to the healers

if you’re a child of apollo or smth she’s like “i literally have my own person healer right here…..”

anyways i think that’s all but i will probably be updating this when i think of more stuff bc as we know i have no chill

thank you all sm for reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and sending all of your WONDERFUL asks they make me so happy i’m always giggling when i get one

anyways bye bye 😘

—

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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squirmhoney · 5 months

Text

ALL ALONE AT CHRISTMAS

Requested by @queenofthekeep ♡ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader Warning: Smut. incest. Angst. Arguing. 18+ MDNI A/N:we’ve had a very late start to Christmas today. So even though I know a lot of you won’t see this, I thought I’d grace your Christmas Day with this soft smut❤️ Merry Christmas guys 🎄

“One job,” you shouted, throwing the tickets onto the counter. “It was the one thing I let you do and you fucked it.”

All you wanted was to tear your hair out in frustration, not knowing who you should be angry with, Aegon for booking the wrong tickets or yourself for thinking that he could be given that much responsibility.

Aegon’s lips opened, unable to get a syllable out before you were screaming at him again.

“Don’t,” you told him, putting your hand out. “I’m stuck here for Christmas because you booked the wrong flight.”

“We,” Aegon stated, standing up from his seat. He made his way over to you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “I’m here as well.”

You pushed his hands away, “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Aegon’s face dropped at this, a frown covering his face as he retreated away from you. He was at an end with you, back to square one like he had been months ago. All the phone calls, messages and constant reassurance on his end felt like it was for nothing. Had he really spent months patching things up between him and you, just for him to fuck it up over booking the wrong flights.

Yes, he had booked the wrong flights on purpose. But this isn’t how he planned things turning out, you weren’t supposed to get this upset. Well, at least not in his head.

Things couldn’t get any worse, until they did.

Christmas should be spent with your family, not just with your older brother. Especially not one like Aegon. To add to your Christmas nightmare, the power had cut out in Aegon’s apartment, leaving you both curled up on the couch wrapped under an array of blankets trying desperately to keep warm.

“You can get a bit closer,” Aegon said from the other end of the couch.

You were shivering, trying to hide your chattering teeth by biting down on your t-shirt. Even with how cold you felt, goosebumps covering your skin, you didn’t want to let him know that.

“Seriously, you’re freezing over there.”

In the candle light Aegon saw your eyes look up at him, narrowing your eyes at him with a coldness he had only seen once before.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“This distance between us, not just physically but in every way shape and form,” he snapped out, throwing his head back.

“It’s good,” you paused for a second, drawing your legs further in. “To have space.”

You could feel him rolling his eyes even if you couldn’t see it.

“Space is good.” You squeezed your knees to your chest. “It’s healthy.”

“Here we go again.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“I thought we were over it. I’ve apologised, I’ve kept my distance, I’ve phoned and texted at the right times. What else can I do?”

“You kissed me,” you shouted at him, a croak in the back of your throat. Realising the sound of your own voice, you looked around the darkness as if someone could hear you. “And you can’t do that.”

“If I remember correctly, you kissed me back.”

“You’re delusional.”

He huffed and when he spoke again you could hear the tears lodged in his airways, begging to spill. “Fuck you.” It was shaky, full of pain that you both shared.

“I’m your sister, Aegon. Can’t you see how fucked up it is?”

“You don’t think I know.” He stood up, taking a step away from you. “I hate myself for feeling this way but I can’t help it.”

“It’s sick,” as soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. But maybe it’s what he needed to hear, what you both needed to hear.

“You act so fucking high and mighty,” he stormed around the room, in the darkness where he wasn’t visible to you. “Like you weren’t a part of this. Like you don’t feel the way I feel.”

“I don’t-”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Christmas wasn’t meant to be spent in silence but for the most part it had been.

Both you and Aegon had put on glowing smiles for your family when you called, making up lies about how you both were enjoying yourselves. In reality you had been looking at the earliest flight you could catch to get yourself out of there but there weren’t any for a few more days.

Eventually your phone died and the sun went down, meaning all you could do was stare up into the darkness as you curled up on the couch. You were still cold, the layers of blankets not doing much to help. You were glad for the friendly neighbour that dropped off an array of candles, the apartment being less depressing than it had been.

In the silence of it all you could only think about Aegon as you were sure he was thinking about you. He had been hauled up in his room, giving you the silent treatment. The only time you had really seen him he was puffy eyed and pale in the face, barely able to look at you.

You hated him for it. The way your stomach dropped at the sight of him, so distraught and how your eyes could barely look up from your knees to meet his face. With every second that passed you felt your chest tightening more, the silent tears unable to alleviate the weight that was holding you down.

You weren’t sure of the time when you next saw Aegon. Maybe minutes had passed since the sun had set, maybe even hours. But for some reason you felt stuck in the passage of time, as if you didn’t do something, you’d never leave that apartment. Maybe that was just an excuse.

Nothing really mattered to you when Aegon opened his bedroom door, finding you standing on the other side. You stood there contemplating for a while on what to do or what you were going to say. All you managed to think of was…

“I was cold,” your voice was quiet, barely audible. You looked up at him, that tight feeling in your chest snapped and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your tears at bay.

He was so close you could feel the heavy breaths he was taking, his chest almost touching yours. You couldn’t help but place your hand against his bare skin, wanting to ease the pain and sadness you were both feeling.

When his hands cupped your cheeks, you accepted it. The pads of his thumb wiping at your wet skin, saying the things that you knew he was clearly too scared to say. But his lips said much more when they reached down to yours, hovering a centimetre away from you.

It was a brush of lips when you closed the distance, delicate and fearful of one another’s rejection. You sobbed into his lips after a second, hands wrapping around his neck as you latched yourself onto him.

That feeling in your chest finally eased when he pulled you into his room, wrapping an arm around your waist. Your bodies moved on instinct, sinking into each other as you clumsily travelled over to his bed. When your foot stumbled on something, Aegon was quick to stop you from falling, snatching you up and throwing you onto his bed.

You didn’t even know if it was you or him stripping you of your clothes, all you knew was that you were both desperate, tearing them from your body. Before you knew it you were chest to chest, bare against each other and completely vulnerable. His hands roamed your sides, not taking any time as he grabbed at the flesh, almost violently as if he was trying to bruise your skin, leaving his mark for everyone to see.

“Aegon,” it slipped out in a moan when he grinded his hips into yours, his arousal clear to feel through his boxers. Your legs opened wider, wrapping around his waist to rub yourself up at him. “Please.”

There was a wetness that had pooled between your thighs, one that Aegon could probably feel through his boxers. You were sure of it when he pressed himself flush against you, his stiff cock nudging at you as much as it could.

You were breathless when his lips finally retreated from yours, only to latch onto your neck, sucking at the skin of your throat. You weren’t sure how you’d explain the marks he was surely leaving, purple and pink, but that was the last thing you wanted to think of when his tongue lazily trailed over your skin.

You didn’t realise how much he moved till you felt his hand press against you, dragging his fingers around your soaked cunt. You gasped out, throwing your head back at the sensation as his fingers began to play with you. The swirling in your stomach was unfamiliar to you but it only grew with each drag of his fingers against you. He was barely doing anything but you were a mess, hands clawing at the sheets beneath you.

When he finally slipped a finger in, you shuddered, only for him to push a second finger in with complete ease. Your pussy sucked him in with each thrust and the moan that fell from your lips made him smile against your skin.

Was this what you had been depriving yourself of? Months of battling with unfamiliar feelings, only for you to cave just like this. Had it all been for nothing.

“Aegon, it’s-” you were babbling, unable to finish your words as you let out a harsh breath.

Your walls squeezed him when you came, back arching off the bed as you felt yourself squirting onto his abdomen. All your thighs wanted to do was close, wriggling around as you tried to escape his touch out of pure embarrassment. But he wasn’t letting you go, grip tightening around you as he yanked you further down onto the bed.

In the candle lit room, you could barely see what he was doing but you didn’t need to see it. Not when you felt the tip of him press against your folds, hard and wet as he pushed it around, lubing himself up.

“Aegon,” you pleaded, tears lodged in your throat as you lifted your leg around him. “Please, I need you.”

He kissed you again, inhaling your very being with just one kiss.

“I love you,” it came out in a broken cry that vibrated through your whole chest.

“Say it again,” he demanded, sliding his cock against you.

Even though you were still terrified of his rejection, worried that after all this he could still push you away, you said it again, “I love you.”

The next kiss was hungrier than the last, teeth clashing against each other as he pressed himself fully against you and finally pushed himself into you. You both moaned into each other at this, your hands clawing at his back to get closer to him, if that was even possible.

When he finally lifted his head, giving you space to breathe, he finally said, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

With that you let out a sharp breath you didn’t realise you had been holding.

It felt like sweet torture the way Aegon thrusted into you, each brush of his cock inside your walls was like a new kind of ecstasy that you couldn’t understand. He was savouring the moment, that much you could tell, enjoying the way your thighs shook with each harsh snap of his hips and your walls clenched around him begging for more.

The way he fucked you was as if he was still trying to stretch you out, get you ready for what was really about to take place. Even though you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, you were gasping for it, on the verge of crying if he didn’t give you what you so desperately craved right then.

“You need something, baby?” Aegon taunted from above you, lifting one of your thighs to sit between your bodies.

You gave him a small nod, all you felt like you could manage.

“I need you to tell me,” Aegon lifted the other legs now, the angle allowing him to reach deeper inside of you. “Speak for me.”

“I can’t,” you gulped, shaking your head at him.

“How am I supposed to know what you want?”

“Please,” tears slid down your cheeks as he delivered a violent thrust. “I-I just n-need more.”

Aegon slowly pulled out from you, making you whine when his tip sat at your entrance. But before you knew it was sinking back into your walls, snapping his hips into yours with a vicious rage that he clearly had been holding back on.

Your thighs were shaking at this, unable to keep down each moan that fell from your lips until he pressed his lips against yours. Only for a moment though, letting out a groan of his own as he curved himself into you.

“You like this,” Aegon stated, grinning against your cheek. “No. No.”

You were so delirious, you could barely focus on his words.

“You love this.”

You clenched around him at this, your cunt clearly agreeing with him.

“As much as I do.”

Your eyes widened, feeling that familiar pressure in your stomach ready to snap. With the way your walls were squeezing him, you were sure that Aegon could tell, holding your face in place so he could watch this time.

“Please,” he pleaded with you, eyes latched onto yours.

You came for him, walls pulsating around him as the ecstasy spread across your skin. His lips only became more frantic after that, keeping you hooked on that feeling as he chased his own orgasm. One more clench from your cunt, had him spilling into you finally. He sighed as he rocked his hips against yours, making sure to feel you up completely with every last drip of his cum.

He slipped out of you with a sharp hiss, collapsing on top of you right after. Your breathing was still harsh as you fell slack against the bed, mind starting to become clear. You didn’t want that, not wanting to think of the consequences of what you both had truly done. Not right then at least.

But Aegon was already softening against you.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered.

“Hmm- What was that?” Aegon asked, shifting to hover above you.

You were getting choked up again as reality began to hit you, “I-”

“It’s okay,” Aegon was quick to reassure you, rolling you both over so you were resting on his chest. “You just gotta trust me.”

You buried your head into his neck, letting him soothe you as his hand rubbed your back.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #dark aegon smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #dark aegon targaryen #squirmhoneysmutmas

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lilacsinjuly · 6 months

Text

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TEN: THE GAME.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

summary: Eren hate everything about you - from your attitude to your friends and your clothes, he hates you. You make other's lives miserable, and he's determined to put you in your place with an innocent game which results in you having to do whatever he wants for the rest of the night.

CW: fem reader, smut, halloween party, costumes, drinking, beer pong, reader is a bitch like you are seriously unlikeable, like she's a bully & your typical mean girl, masturbation, men being men but only for a sec, reader has to do whatever Eren wants yet the sexual stuff is consensual, spanking, bondage, degrading, eren steals ur thong, public sex, semi-public sex, praise, blowjob, throat-fucking, slapping, choking, biting, humping/shoe-fucking, eren calls you 'princess', no use of y/n.

a/n: so we're a good while into november and i'm just posting my last kinktober post - oops. i've been so busy plus i wanted to wait cus idk if it's disrespectful to the dead to post smut about them (spoiler warning) like right after they died. anyway, i read a book or another fanfic w a similiar plot ages ago and it's been stuck in my head since but i can't rememeber what it's called lol.

word count: 13.7k - if you read this, ilysm.

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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Eren couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand the way you thought so highly of yourself or how you’d walk around with your head high and a disgusted look on your face when you saw someone like him. He couldn’t stand people you surround yourself with or how you managed to look so fucking good in every outfit you put on.

He could't stand the raging urge he felt to fuck the attitude right out off you.

On the other hand, you found yourself not looking twice in his direction unless it was to make a snide comment to your friends followed by a mocking laugh before you went on with your day not thinking about him for another second.

Eren, however, would think about that comment for the rest of the day. It didn't upset him, he was by no means offended by your comment. It just shocked him to an immeasurable amount that you were still this much of an impudent bitch in college. Surely you would have managed to grow up a bit after high school, right?

No. Not a single part of you had managed to catch a glimpse of the real world past the curtains of your life as a spoiled, popular, hot girl who thought there was nothing out there more important than money and looks.

In all fairness, both of those things had gotten you everything you had ever wanted, yet in effect, it ruined the lives of the people around you as you dragged them down to build yourself up.

That's why he came to this party, knowing fully well that you would be here. Tonight, he was determined to humble you - make you feel every fraction of hurt and shame you had forced onto other's your entire life.

Eren wasn't exactly popular, which is why he was shocked to have been invited to this party in the first place. He had his small group of friends and he was content with that. Mikasa and Armin were also skeptical of coming, confused as to why Eren was so persistent after he had spent all of his years in high school and the time you had spent together in college slandering your name and every other popular mother fucker - all of them were exactly like you, and all of them were at this party.

He had a slight feeling that it was due to Jean, the host of the party, and his blatant crush on Mikasa - yet she went wherever Eren went and they could always count on Armin to tag along as well, even if it took a lot of persuasion from Eren. Armin was confused why Eren was so persistent on coming, yet he let it go once Eren got defensive when he asked.

It was a halloween party, meaning there were all sorts of costumes to be seen from every corner. Of course, you were all adults now, so instead of anything actually scary there were mini-skirts and shirtless guys wherever his eyes fell. Eren didn’t want to dress up - in fact, he had forgotten completely as he was so focused on coming up with a plan that would land you right where he wanted you, therefore, he opted for a tight black shirt and some baggy pants.

Once his eyes caught yours, he scoffed. You were dressed entirely in black. A black corset decorated with beautiful patterns, a small black skirt (that could have passed as a belt but that didn't seem to bother you), black fishnets and boots that reached up past your knees. Of course, to finish the look, there was a pair of angel wings and a halo that adorned your head. A dark angel, not an uncommon look but considering you were the only one wearing it, it could have passed as that. The reason he had scoffed at the sight of you was because he assumed you must have threatened anyone going for the same look as you in order to assure you were different to everyone else - he couldn't think of you any more highly than that.

He mentally scolded himself for the way his eyes were dragging themselves all over the parts of your body that your costume didn’t cover - and there was a lot of it on display. Your costume left hardly anything to the imagination.

Eren could feel himself hardening in his pants just from the sight of you and he cursed himself internally for it. Why here and why now? Usually, just the thought of you would be enough to rile him up enough for him to get hard but tonight he swore he wouldn’t let his eyes or mind wander.

Quickly, he excused himself, leaving behind a confused Mikasa and Armin. The pair had exchanged glances since they had arrived due to Eren’s strange behaviour - but they chose not to bring it up.

The house was massive, and there were plenty of bathrooms, so nobody should mind if he occupied this one in particular for just long enough to take care of his problem.

His back hit the wall and he groaned in both pleasure and frustration once his hand reached to free his aching dick. He held his shirt up with his teeth and watched as his hand moved up and down his hardened cock.

His breath hitched when his thumb ran across the tip and he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut in order to help prevent any more noises from leaving his throat.

Eren’s mind wandered to the sight of your thighs clad in those black fishnets and the way your skirt was so short he was certain that if you bent down just a little, he’d be able to take a peek at your ass from underneath. He wanted nothing more than to tear those angel wings right off you whilst whispering in your ear from behind about how much of a dirty slut you were and how there was no place in heaven for such a dirty thing like you all whilst fucking into you relentlessly to the point where you were too fucked-dumb to argue back.

The grip he had on his dick tightened and he shuddered at the feeling, his pace increasing as the sound of him fisting his cock rang throughout the bathroom. He was panting and groaning, unable to hold himself back for much longer.

What sent him over the edge, was the thought of how well you’d take him because he knew that underneath all the layers of this vain and hateful version of yourself was a slut who was begging to get degraded and humiliated - even if you didn’t know it yet. He envisioned how tightly your cunt would squeeze him as though it was so desperate for his cock and how you’d whine and plead him to stop like a brat but you’d never use your safe word because at the end of the day, you needed him to fill you up. He pictured the cute face you’d make as you came all around his cock, screaming his name and dragging your nails down his back.

Eren wasn’t able to control himself for much longer before let out a strained groan and shot hot ropes of cum over his hand all whilst his grip on his cock never slowed or stopped for a second.

He had spent many nights in this situation - fisting his cock until he was all out of orgasms whilst picturing all the different positions he’d put you in and all the types of punishments you’d have to endure just to get a taste of his dick.

Tonight. He told himself. Tonight he will have all of that - he’ll have you begging for all of it.

Quickly, he cleaned himself up and opened the door, surprised to only find one person waiting who could barely hold himself up which saved him the embarrassment of having to walk out to find a crowd of people waiting.

He rejoined Mikasa and Armin, and began to wait for the perfect moment to put his plan in action.

You, however, were sitting in the living room on the armrest of one of the chairs with your other stuck up, self-obsessed friends, chatting shit about every person under the sun whilst simultaneously insulting each other as subtly as possible.

You were sitting by Hitch, leaning against her whilst absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back and sipped on her drink watching as the people around her tore each other and everyone else to bits.

Hitch had been your one and only true friend - the only one you could securely say you trusted with anything and the only person you would let see through your bitchy facade and the wall of hidden insecurities lying within. The only thing allowing you to act so cruel and heartless towards others was that very wall, the one that prevented people from getting close to you but also letting anything out that may subject you to the same remarks you throw around so casually. In the world of social status, it was kill or be killed - but in more of a metaphorical manner.

Occasionally, you would chime into the slaughter of other people’s names and reputations, adding your own (exaggerated) experiences and opinions of other people’s lives.

You stopped paying as much attention when the guys started talking disgustingly about which girls they were planning on fucking tonight - you simply turned to hitch and rolled your eyes to which she laughed.

“How about her over there?” one of the guys asked, pointing in the direction of a brunette standing awkwardly on her own as she tried to drink her nerves away. It was quite clear she was listening in on the conversation, whether that was involuntarily or on purpose, and the very mention of her caused her to quickly glance at your group before turning her face away - burning a bright red colour whilst looking for a way to escape, yet she was unsuccessful and ended up staying put.

Luckily for her, you gave her her own way of escape.

“Her? No, she’s such a slut.” You said without hesitation because it was what you did. You had walked in on her making out with another guy in the bathroom a few months ago and of course you had to tell everybody about it. “I mean, she can’t keep it in her pants long enough to wait until she’s not in public to fuck her weird ass boyfriend.”

The people around you snickered and the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. You were being purposefully loud, making extra sure that she could hear you and not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“I mean, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” One of the girls sat across from you said.

You were used to other girls trying to throw passive aggressive comments in your direction, yet it would always end with them knocked out cold or with a broken nose so not many tried anymore - so her blatant rudeness threw you off a bit however you tried to keep your composure. You gave her a tight lipped smile and she stared at you with challenging eyes.

“Sorry, who are you?” you asked, clear malice sewn into your voice.

She laughed mockingly before replying. “Just someone who doesn’t sleep with every guy who gives her the time of day.”

Squeezing your empty cup, you scoffed and got up from your seat, clearly vexed by the comment made yet not quite drunk enough to start a fight just yet.

What the fuck does she know? People thought of you as a self-obsessed whore, but in reality, only one of those things were true. You had only slept with two other guys, one being your long-term boyfriend and the other being a rebound after your break-up.

As you walked, Hitch called out to you, asking you where you were going and as you turned around to shout back, Eren could feel the excitement growing inside of him at the opportunity that had presented itself - the one he had been waiting for and imagining since the day he first saw you.

“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shouted back to her over the music, she could barely hear you, but she nodded anyway.

Eren made his way to the path that you were taking and accidentally bumped into you.

Spinning around, you glared at him with nothing but anger and disgust. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you attempted to walk off from him and make your way to the kitchen. Yet, Eren had other plans.

Swiftly, he grabbed your arm. His hold wasn’t painful, yet it was firm enough that you couldn’t escape it.

He wanted to laugh at the look on your face.

It was one that indicated that nobody like him, nobody beneath you, had ever stood up to you before. Nobody like him had grabbed you before. Your eyes were wide, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he would have been able to see steam coming out from your ears, yet his hold didn’t falter for a second.

“What the fuck are you doing, perv? How fucking dare you-”

“I want you to apologise.” He started, and that look of amazement on your face only seemed to grow. For the first time in your life, you were utterly speechless.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my fault you bumped into me. You were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.” His grip around you tightened slightly, causing your face to scrunch up before your lips parted in shock. “Therefore, I want you to apologise.”

Eren’s voice was low and calm, there wasn’t a hint of any pent up frustration hidden anywhere within it. In fact, he sounded like he didn’t know who you were, and to you, it looked like it as well.

After snapping out of your stupor, you let out a harsh laugh at his demand and jolted out of his hold, taking a few steps back. “You want me to apologise? Over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You started to recognise him from one of your classes but you refused to portray any sort of recognition in your voice or features, not wanting to inflate his ego any higher or make him feel any more special than he already does just from talking to you. Evan? Ernie?

“Someone who’s not gonna fucking bow down to you and fall to his knees begging for an apology, princess.” Every syllable was laced with sarcasm and there was a hint of resentment in his tone - the latter not being something you weren’t used to, there were plenty of people who hated you in silence because of envy though it wasn’t typically something you heard from guys.

“Are you asking to get your ass kicked, or what? Just because you won't do anything I ask, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who won't.”

Eren looked down at you with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, and if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would have been able to recognise the traces of malicious intent hidden behind the green of his eyes - like he was planning something.

And, fuck, was he planning something.

“Fine then,” his head motioned to the table setup with various cups filled with beer. “One game of beer pong. Loser apologises.”

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew you’d refuse to waste your time on a useless apology that you didn’t want all that much and he was the same. There’s no way he’d actually play you just for an apology.

“As if. I don’t want to waste any more time on you than I already have.”

Before you could walk off, Eren grabbed your arm once again.

“Okay… then the loser has to do whatever the other person wants for the rest of the night.”

As he expected, you stopped resisting. It pissed you off immensely that Eren wasn’t the type to just do whatever you wanted, and right now you wanted nothing more than for him to understand his place.

You paused in consideration. If you won, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You didn’t need Eren to be in your corner all night waiting for your command, you had plenty of people who wouldn’t say no when you asked them to do something. The only thing you’d gain is more pride. If you lost, however, you’d have to do whatever Eren says and that would damage your reputation far past fixable. It would be social suicide and you’d never recover from the humiliation. But, you wouldn’t lose, right?

"Fine then," You started, eyeing him up and down as your tongue ran across your teeth. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night. Deal?"

The two of you shook on it, you making an exaggerated gesture of wiping your hand on your outfit after your hands separated just to remind him of how low he stood beneath you. Eren only let out a curt laugh as he rolled his eyes.

"Can't wait to make you my little bitch, Aaron."

A slight pause before he replied, "It's Eren."

Narrowing his eyes at you in utter disbelief, he tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for him to humiliate you later.

"Yeah... okay." You gave him a look that signified how little you cared. He simply brushed it off.

The two of you began to head towards the table, two people in the process of finishing up a game before you snapped at them to leave. Eren, on the other hand, had been pulled to the side by Mikasa and Armin, the latter scolding him for what he was about to do.

“If you lose, you’ll never live it down. If you win, her fucking minions will be on you like-”

“I know what I’m doing, just leave it.”

The two watched Eren as he turned his back, heading for the table where you were waiting with an impatient scowl on your face despite the fact you had only been waiting for about two minutes.

Mikasa tried to call out to him, yet her efforts were futile given the loud music that still boomed throughout the halls. Giving up, the pair looked at each other with concern etched into their features before reluctantly joining the crowd that had formed around the two of you.

You made a snappy comment along the lines of ‘getting this over and done with’ before Eren gestured for you to go first. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as you threw the first shot, immediately getting it into one of the back cups and watched, unblinking, as Eren tossed the cup's contents down his throat like it was nothing.

This went on for a while - you'd successfully get the ball into one of his cups and then watch intently as he drank the beer inside. There was something about watching the way his throat would bop or how he’d wipe his mouth, his eyes on yours, and then tossing it to the side before taking a ball and throwing it effortlessly into one of your cups.

You hated how attractive he was and hated yourself for not being able to take your eyes off him.

Now, you had only three cups left, whereas he had four. You cursed yourself for missing the last time but it wasn’t your fault when you could feel his eyes burning holes through you whilst he shot you that same stupid smirk he kept giving you.

It wasn’t because you found it attractive, it just irritated you endlessly. There was no other logical explanation than irrational anger - that's what caused you to miss your last shot. So, as you watched him throw the ball and the way it danced around the rim of your cup before falling in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss these last shots.

The other times you had missed, he wasn’t smirking at you nor was he staring at you like he could see through your clothes - so it really was the only explanation.

As much as he liked to think he did, he didn’t make you nervous.

Taking the cup, you lifted it to your lips and swallowed back the beer, some of it dribbling down your chin and down your chest.

Eren refused to let himself react loudly, though, as he fought against how his hands were gripping onto the table and how his jaw was clenched.

The two of you continued the game, Eren missing once, leaving the two of you with only one cup left.

It was Eren’s turn, but it didn’t matter whether or not he got this last one in as long as you could get your next in.

Your fingers tapped anxiously and impatiently against the table as he stretched out his turn for longer than he should have been - like he was purposefully trying to ensure you missed your next throw.

Aiming the ball, he threw it perfectly in the cup causing your face to drop before immediately wiping the reaction off your face.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he looked up at you with a winning smile and a vicious look in his eyes. “Your turn, princess. You don’t wanna miss this one.” Eren drawled, standing back from the table and crossing his arms arrogantly. “Unless, you actually want to be my bitch for the rest of the night.”

The large group of people gathered around all of you snickered at his comment and waited for your response eagerly.

“In your dreams, perv.” You snarled at him, taking the ball and aiming it carefully at the last cup. Taking a deep breath in, you threw the ball and hoped for the best.

Watching as it hit the rim of the cup and bounced straight back off, your eyes widened and your face filled with horror. Your hands fell to your sides and you stared blankly at the cup in defeat.

“Just one more go, I-”

Reaching for the ball that had betrayed you and had begun to roll to your side of the table, you were cut off by Eren placing his hand over yours as it rested on top of the ball. Your head snapped up to meet his in annoyance. Once again, he was looking down at you and you had never felt so small. Your heart stuttered, there was too much humour in his crooked smile for someone who had innocently proposed a game of beer pong.

“No. We made a deal.” He sounded so naturally calm and though his voice wasn’t gloating - his eyes certainly were.

You wanted to cry but you wouldn’t allow yourself to. There was no way you’d toss away all of your pride tonight - you were already going to have to do anything he asked you to so you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Dropping your head and releasing the grip you had on the ball, you pulled away from him and sighed in defeat. It pissed you off to no extent to lose in front of all these people, especially seeing as though Eren had made the terms of the game clear to everyone watching.

You couldn’t help but scold yourself for even accepting those terms - it benefitted you very little. Never did you think you would lose and have to follow Eren around like a dog all night and wait for him to give a command.

Folding your arms, you raised your head, deciding to at least pretend that your defeat hadn’t pissed you off endlessly.

“So?” You asked, waiting for whatever embarrassing wish he had for you to fulfil.

“I want you to get on your knees and apologise.”

You felt the life drain from your face as your heart plummeted. As if the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, Eren was right there to remind you that it can and it will. Shaking your head, you swallowed nervously and replied. “No way. Not in front of all these people.”

“We had a deal, didn’t we? On your knees, princess.” He spat venomously. You looked up into his eyes with a silent pleading desperation and realised there was no negotiating when you noticed how lifeless and full of hatred his eyes were. It also hit you at that moment that he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while. Had he planned this entire thing?

Looking around, you felt a burning amount of rage flow through you as you bit your lip and sank to your knees.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone wasn’t short of seething anger and you kept your head down, not wanting to look at how proud he must be.

“Aw, c’mon, you can do better than that,” Your fingers grasped at the thin and short material of your skirt in frustration. “Look, you can sit here and apologise properly to get this over and done with, or we can be here all night - which is only more embarrassing for you, really. I mean, at least try to sound sorry.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit for the second time in two minutes, he was right, so you caved in.

“I’m sorry, Eren. I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into you and I’m sorry I said it was your fault. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a freak… and a perv,” Looking up at him, you stare intently into his eyes, like he was the only other person in the room. Your voice lowered to just over a whisper. “Please forgive me.”

Eren stood above you with his arms folded - his face now void of any emotion, not even a hint of pride or victory carved into his features as he looked down on you.

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

How the fuck did he manage to annoy you more and more with every word that fell from his lips? He’ll think about it? What the fuck does he even mean by that?

“You asked me to apologise, and I did. So just fucking forgive me.”

Eren crouched down to your level and took your chin in between his index finger and thumb before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’d watch what you say, princess. You don’t wanna get punished do you? I mean, how would all these people react once I tell them their perfect girl keeps pressing her legs together every time I look at her?”

He noticed that? No, scrap that - why the fuck did just the mention of getting punished cause that familiar throbbing in between your legs? And the way his breath was fanning your ear and how low his voice sounded as he spoke. What the fuck was he doing to you?

Pulling away, he gave you an expectant look and you shook your head - agreeing with him.

He stood up and motioned for you to follow him.

Fuck was this going to be a long night.

Within minutes of his victory, there were people crowding Eren and talking to him like they had been friends for years - like he wasn’t the type they’d make fun of behind his back. Like you hadn’t watched them.

You dragged your feet and followed him wherever he went, occasionally going to fetch him or his new-found friends another drink whenever he asked you to.

He wasn’t talking to you much, and you were grateful for that. He didn’t gloat or brag about his victory, he simply gave you a demanding look and gave you a task to do.

Despite this, he was constantly looking over at you. His eyes would wander down your body just like they had done when you bumped into him and like they were when you were playing beer pong. His eyes would burn holes into your skin before he would lick his lips and turn back around to rejoin the conversation he had temporarily removed himself from. You assumed he was simply trying to make sure you hadn’t ran off.

The thought had crossed your mind a few times. You could run off and save your reputation, but you were getting an odd sort of pleasure from the way he was ordering you around, laughing at you and thinking of new ways he could humiliate you in front of everyone.

Him not speaking to you, however, also gave you the time to properly look at him as well. You were right previously, he was in one of your classes. He sat at the back, typically staring out the window or twirling his pen. You don’t know how you never really paid any attention to him before because there was something about him that was so… attractive.

Eren had a quiet, brooding look about him that would generally scare other people - or at least earn him a few weird looks.

Not tonight, however. His typical chilling look was embraced given the fact it was halloween and it made you seethe with anger at his blatant hypocrisy after he had made his distaste of you due to your popularity so apparent all whilst soaking in the amount of attention he was getting instead of you.

You were outraged that you were having to stoop down to his level and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Yet, for some reason, you weren’t able to prevent the throbbing feeling between your legs when he was looking down at you and commanding you to do something else he could have done easily on his own.

You were glaring at him when he suddenly decided to excuse himself from the group he was with and called you to follow him. Cursing under your breath, you hurried after him with an annoyed look plastered onto your face.

“What's wrong with you?” He did nothing to hide his mocking tone or the humour he found in your situation.

“I have no clue what you’re on about. I just fucking love following you around like a dog and doing whatever you want.” You snapped, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows.

“Well that's good, considering you’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.”

There was a ringing in your ear and you wanted nothing more than to take a hammer and smash every single speaker that echoed the beat of the music throughout the cramped halls. Every brush of someone walking past you was making you incredibly frustrated and you felt so close to lashing out at someone - preferably Eren.

“You’re an asshole.”

Within seconds, you were pulled into an empty corner and pushed against the wall. Eren had one of his hands on your hip and the other had a deathly grip on your chin.

“And you’re a pathetic slut who’s been staring at me the entire night with those stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pressing her legs together because it’s all the action she’ll be getting for a while after this.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest because of his bold accusations, and despite this, you could feel yourself growing hotter. Your skin became more sensitive and was tingling at every touch and where his hand was touching gently on your hip it felt like you were burning.

You were holding your breath - hardly able to speak or think of a comeback until you remembered how he had been eyeing you the entire time as well.

“Oh yeah? Haven’t you been eye-fucking me this entire night? If you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me?”

Eren pulled back slightly and barked out a laugh at your response as though it was the funniest thing in the world which only irritated you more, though you refused to show it.

Subtly, he slipped his leg in between yours and pushed them away slightly, creating room for him to press his thigh up against your clothed pussy and giving you a taste of the pleasure he could bring you just by simply moving his thigh to rest between your legs. Though, he knew what he was doing as he moved his leg slightly resulting in him grinding his leg against your clit causing you to whine softly.

“Let me? Princess, you really have no idea who’s in control, don’t you? If I feel like fucking you, I will, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you? Because, you’ve been so good to me the entire night, you don’t want to spoil it, do you? I mean, sure, you can’t take a single order without a complaint or any back talk, but you’re getting there. You’re a spoiled little thing, but one that I can shape easily into a perfect little slut.”

The way he was talking about you and degrading you would have usually had you slapping him in the face and walking off immediately. But the way his insults rolled off his tongue so naturally was so appealing and had the control that you were so desperately trying to grasp at, falling from your fingers even further than before.

That’s what you needed. Control.

“You’re right, Eren,” biting your lip, you took one of your fingers and slid it down his shirt and across his stomach. You felt like gasping when you could feel his figure through the tight material of the shirt yet you decided to remain silent. “I’ve been so good to you. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

Control was something that was very short-lived when you were faced with someone like Eren. Someone who could so easily snatch it up from underneath your nose and wave it obnoxiously in your face.

“For what, hm? Doing as you’re told? That’s what I fucking expect from you. No, you’ll get a reward when you impress me. Like I said, you can’t even get through a single task without a complaint. What’s so difficult about grabbing a couple of drinks?”

“You won’t let me have one.” You retorted, a pout settling on your face. The first time he had told you to get him a drink, you had got one for yourself as well - a way to calm your nerves and help you through this dreadful night. Immediately, he had taken your drink away from you and drank it right in front of your face as you stood there and watched dumb-founded.

He had told you that you weren’t allowed another drink unless he permitted you to and you blew up in his face about how unfair it was and called him a variety of creative insults.

Eren was ensuring that you were sober enough to feel the humiliation of your situation but also that you were in the right state of mind for when he inevitably fucks you tonight.

“That’s right, I won’t. You’ll understand why soon.”

Eren removed himself away from you completely and went on about his night like that interaction hadn’t left him as flustered and yet simultaneously annoyed as you were.

He walked into the same living room you had started your night in. There was a different group of people in there, yet immediately, as if he was famous, someone offered their seat to Eren and two girls sat themselves next to him.

There was a panging feeling of jealousy hovering within you as you watched them touch his arms and laugh unnecessarily loud at one of his jokes.

He had just been flirting with you and yet somehow, he had easily moved on to the two girls he saw next whilst asking them if they wanted a drink because he knew just the person to fetch them.

You stormed off to the kitchen, pissed off at how he seemed to be enjoying the company of those two other girls far more than your own.

But why? They wouldn’t be able to handle him like you could. If he was finding pleasure in ordering you about and forcing you to humiliate yourself, all whilst grinding his thigh against you in a place where anyone could have walked past, who knew what other kinky shit he was into?

There was a sense of desperation that hung over you. You wanted him to notice you, you wanted to get his attention so badly, you wanted to show him just how much of a slut you could be for him.

There was no way he’d even look in the direction of another woman after tonight, you swore it.

Bending down, you placed their drinks on the table, flashing him your black, lacy thong in the process yet not caring because you took pleasure in showing off knowing the people behind him could see as well.

“That’s a nice thong you’re wearing.” He stated blandly. You turned around to look down at him, sitting so carelessly on the sofa with his arms draped around two other girls.

For some reason, this frustrated you to no extent. You wanted to believe that it was because of how annoying it was that he could pretend like he couldn’t care less about you. But, in reality, you wanted nothing but his attention on you. You didn’t want him to be touching other girls - that was the reason you had flashed him your thong as well, in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of what he was missing.

You grinned when he noticed the fact that he had been staring so shamelessly at your clothed pussy, letting you know that he did want you and not them.

What he said afterwards, took you aback. The grin on your face immediately being wiped away from existence - no trace of it to be seen.

“Give it to me.”

Your mouth was agape and there was nothing but disgust plastered all over your face before you quickly covered it up with your typical look of nonchalance.

The people surrounding you whistled, still invested in the ongoing dare and what would turn out to be your inevitable downfall. There was still a sizable crowd amongst the dozens of other people pretending to be minding their own businesses. People you had known for years, people you had made fun of and chat shit about were relishing blatantly at your humiliation.

There was only one thing that you could do, and that was pretend to be as unaffected by the situation as possible. So, without another second of hesitation, you reached up underneath your skirt and pulled down your thong slowly as your eyes remained locked on Eren’s, both of your faces portraying zero emotion.

As you pulled your thong down your legs, you felt shame as your arousal clinged to it desperately and you knew that the minute you handed the fabric to him, he’d be able to see a glistening wetness. Your pussy had betrayed you, and now he was going to know exactly how you were responding to his degrading demands and humiliation.

Like he didn’t already know.

Still, you kept your face expressionless as though you weren’t ashamed and cringing and dying a little bit inside.

At the end of the day, there were still crowds of people around you, howling and praising your name for being so bold and hot.

Someone had to be reminding them of what they wanted but couldn’t have - yet there was a part inside of you that was worried the boys would begin to think of you as some common whore who’d have sex with anyone - including them.

You only had room for one worry at the moment, and at least they still somewhat respected you, even if it was just for now.

You twirled the small, black fabric around your finger with an alluring smirk on your face. “Are these what you want, Eren? You’re nothing but a perv.” You said, bending down to shove the panties against his chest before quickly standing back up again and sitting down on one of the other chairs, not wanting to be around him as much as you had to.

He held your thong in his hand and you stared at him in wait. He had immediately noticed the wet patch, and you were waiting patiently for him to announce it to the entire room, giving him a look of false encouragement by raising your eyebrows expectantly - but that moment never came. He simply stared back at you and winked, like it was your own little secret and you thanked him mentally for it as you let out a breath of relief.

Eren didn’t even try to hide how he shoved your thong into his pocket as he called out your name.

You rolled your eyes. Again? Could he not let you have just one break?

“Come and sit over here so I can keep my eye on you.” The girls beside him giggled and you wanted nothing more than to scream in the faces and rip their heads off but thankfully, you refrained. “Right in front of me, on your knees.”

Once again, you complied to his request, standing up and walking over to kneel down right in front of him, shooting him a look that said ‘are you happy, now?’ to which he just smirked and went back to talking to those two other girls.

He should have been the one on his knees. He should be on his knees, thanking you for giving him the time of day that he needed in order to get those girls’ attention. Before you, he was absolutely nothing - not a single girl on his shoulder. Now, because of you, he had two of them and yet it was you that was on your knees.

Without your thong, you felt exposed and anxious that soon you’d be able to feel your arousal dripping down your legs or that someone would be able to see your dripping pussy.

Your mind was spinning, so much so you couldn’t feel Eren’s hard eyes on you as the two girls he was with continued to speak to him like he was paying them any attention. He could see the way your eyes were moving around frantically, the way your legs were pressed together so tightly as you lay your hands in your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. He was concentrating so heavily on you that even over the sounds of chatter and music, he swore he could hear the change in pace of your breathing.

Suddenly, your eyes connected with his. You were taken aback to find that he was already looking at you and if it embarrassed him that you caught him, his face didn’t show it. Neither of you broke the eye contact you held for a while, both too stubborn to be the first to lose. Instead, you just stood up and brushed your skirt down - claiming you needed to go to the bathroom.

His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously and you walked off as soon as you saw his lips part to respond, knowing it would only displease him.

You started pushing through the crowds of people, desperate to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and the way your skin felt hot with embarrassment at the idea of someone seeing.

For some reason, you had only gotten more wet when you saw how Eren was staring at you and how he didn’t take his eyes off you even when you caught him.

There were slight murmurs of your name followed by mocking laughs as you made your way to the bathroom but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care - the only thing on your mind was Eren.

You were so close, mere steps away from reaching the door handle and behind able to relieve yourself when all of a sudden you were being spun around and dragged away causing you to curse whoever was preventing you from relieving yourself from your torment. And of course, who else would it be apart from Eren?

You stared at his back as he walked with your wrist in his hand and you could tell he was pissed off at you - just from his grip and the way that he was walking alone.

The two of you stopped in the corner of a very compact area, there were people everywhere but that didn’t stop Eren from trapping you. Luckily enough, the people around you were either far too high or drunk to pay the two of you much attention as they messily grinded on one another and blew smoke around the room.

Eren forced your head to look in his direction by taking your face in his hand roughly.

There was a scowl adorned on his lips, yet, replacing the usual emptiness within his eyes was a spark that you hadn’t seen before and it made you question whether he had something planned.

His arm was caging you in and he peered down at you menacingly. “Care to explain?”

“I already told you.” you said, the corner the two of you were in was relatively quiet for a party so you hardly had to shout. There was also the fact you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourselves because you were already in a compromising position in front of all these people, you were just relieved they were too intoxicated to fully comprehend what was going on in the corner of their eyes. “I was going to the bathroom. Before you stopped me, that is. By the way, I’m blaming you if I piss myself in front of all these people.”

Whilst Eren may have let out a laugh, it was one that was devoid of any humour or enjoyment. He lowered his head and shook it slowly whilst he laughed and his grip on your chin with the hand that wasn’t confining you strengthened. “That’s funny because I don’t remember letting you.”

“And I don’t remember needing your permission.” You retorted, growing more vexed with every second that passed yet at the same time that throbbing feeling in between your legs came back as you stared at him intently, gauging his reaction.

He dropped his hand from your face and lowered it down to your neck to which you instinctively gave him access by raising your chin. “We made a deal, didn’t we?”

When you didn’t answer him, his clutch on your throat grew more intense causing your mouth to drop open in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Didn’t we?” Eren repeated.

“Y-yes, Eren.” Your voice was less than a whisper, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. However, you appeared to have pleased him at least a bit as his grip loosened ever so slightly at your response making you sigh in relief.

“Good girl. Now tell me, did you actually need the bathroom? Or…” The hand on your throat once again left its place and made its way down your body and towards the space in between your legs and a single finger wiped some of the slick from your pussy earning a sigh from you as you let your head rest against the wall. Immediately, his hand was removed from your pussy and he brought it up to the space in between the two of you as he examined his finger carefully. His eyes were glued to how wet you were before they locked on yours. “...did you need to fix this little problem, hm?”

Your voice was failing you as you spewed out pathetic stutters of what was supposed to be denial of his accusation yet you both already knew the answer. In fact, he was only asking you to embarrass you. This entire thing, his only goal, was to crush you and leave you mortified - not even recognising yourself anymore. Still, you attempted to deny it nevertheless.

“No! Wh- why the fuck would I- I swear I just needed to go to the bathroom.” It couldn't have been less believable if you tried.

The fact that you even thought of lying to him was enough of a reason for him to punish you - in his eyes, anyway.

“Liar.” He spits, and his hand instantly goes back up to your throat as a way of letting you know that you had upset him. “Fine then. If you want to cum so badly, then touch yourself. Right here, right now. I want you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes went wide like you had seen a ghost, but in reality, this was much more shocking. Was he being serious? There’s no way he actually wanted you to touch yourself when there were so many people around, any of which could look in your direction and see the sinful act you would be committing.

That spark in his eyes. The same one you had noticed immediately once he turned to face you, it told you everything you needed to know.

He was really telling you to touch yourself.

“What?” you exclaimed. Yet, you couldn’t lie, just the idea of any one of these people turning around to see your fingers plunged deep inside of you really turned you on.

“They won’t see you, not with me blocking you.” he reasoned, taking a step closer and further minimising the gap in between the two of you.

“Still, Eren, that’s fucking crazy. There’s no way I’m doing that!” But, oh, you wanted to. Whilst your words were disapproving, you couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to touch yourself in that moment, your clit was aching and begging for attention as a result of your neglect and your hole was desperate to be filled but no matter what, it was unreasonable to suggest doing something so vile.

Eren simply tutted at your resistance and shook his head like you were a child and he was inevitably going to get what he wanted no matter how many times you objected.

“The thing is, you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You could have left ages ago, but you didn’t. So there’s no point in arguing when we both know you’re going to end up giving in - not because I want you to, but because you want to. Try and hide it all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”

You swallowed nervously and looked around to see if anybody was watching the two of you. Still, you stayed motionless, scared of the consequences yet knowing that nobody would see you with Eren blocking you from anybody’s line of sight.

“What is it then, hm?” He asked with a fake tone of comfort. “Do you need me to help you?”

The feeling of his hand wandering down your bare arm before taking your hand in his own sent shivers throughout your entire body. You didn’t resist his movements, truthfully, you welcomed them. He moved your hand to the space in between your legs and used it to caress the inside of your thighs before your hand reached your soaking cunt.

“Don’t make me do all the work, princess.”

It was like you were starting to act based on just his words and his voice. You found yourself wanting nothing more than him, wanting nothing more than to please him so that maybe he’ll fuck you.

You slipped your fingers inside of you and bit your lip to hold back any noises you wanted to make. Your fingers started slowly moving in and out inside of you and Eren drew back his hand and placed both of them on your hips, using his body to shield your own from any prying eyes.

“That’s a good girl, so obedient.”

A quiet noise slipped from your throat and Eren hushed you soothingly as his thumbs caressed your hips.

Your fingers began to speed up and curled slightly in order to reach that spot that you knew would bring you close to the edge. Taking your thumb, you started rubbing steady circles on your clit and because of the added stimulation, it didn’t take long until your fingers were thrusting themselves continuously in and out of your soaking pussy whilst your thumb’s motions picked up the pace.

“Tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?” You nodded in response, not thinking twice about it.

You used your other hand to cover your mouth and stop yourself from drawing any attention in your direction.

Eren’s lips found themselves on your neck, leaving gentle pecks up the side of it. His kisses were light as a feather and fleeting - gone and moving to another spot before you could truly appreciate his lips.

“Eren, I-” you began, your voice muffled due to your hand being placed over your mouth.

“Speak clearly, princess. I can’t hear you.” His voice vibrated over your neck and you whined louder than you should have done - your eyes instantly bulging out of their sockets as you looked around the room frantically to see if anyone heard and only let yourself breathe when you were certain nobody had.

“‘M gonna cum, Eren–”

Within seconds, Eren’s lips were off your neck and your hand had been dragged away from your aching pussy. You couldn’t even process what had happened because your mind was far too hazy, so you simply stared at Eren in disbelief.

You could feel your orgasm fading away and tears creeping up into your eyes. “W-what? Why did you- I don’t understand-”

“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?”

He smoothed out your skirt for you in a fake gesture of kindness before walking off from you and shouted back for you to follow him.

You, on the other hand, needed a drink. So, you chose to walk in the opposite direction and instead towards the kitchen. Noticing this, he rolled his eyes and followed you instead. He called out your name several times but you paid him no attention as you took a cup and poured some alcohol into it before bringing it to your lips.

However, his hand stopped you before you could raise the cup and chug back its contents.

Eren removed the cup from your hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. “There’s a reason I don’t want you drinking alcohol and why I directly told you that you can’t have any.”

Still, you refused to listen and picked the cup back up against his wishes before taking a sip.

“You’re acting like a brat.” Eren was clearly getting riled up, evident by the annoyance in his tone. “You seriously want to get punished again after the last time?”

Wiping your mouth, you considered his words, but the overwhelming feeling of vexation with him because of him denying you your orgasm overshadowed any reason or rationality, so instead, you simply shrugged and giggled to yourself a bit - feeling far too proud with yourself.

“Do you know how much fun it would be, how much pleasure it would bring me, if I was to tell everyone about that little wet patch I found on your thong, hm?”

You were fuming. How dare he threaten you? You couldn’t risk him telling anyone else. Just him knowing was embarrassing enough.

Eren got closer to you, so close to the point where your chest was pressed up against his, and his head was mere inches from your own. You felt yourself growing hot, and that all too familiar feeling of need between your legs was prominent once again, just from the simple proximity between the two of you as though just him being close to you was far too much for you to handle.

“See, this bratty attitude of yours is gonna have to stop. Remember that you’re doing this willingly, and if I have to punish you again for acting like a brat then I won't hesitate to.” He cupped your cheek and spoke so softly, like he was complimenting you instead of scolding and threatening you with punishments. “So, are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to obey me like we agreed you would do?”

You were really started to hate him. You hated the way he spoke down to you like he was better than you. You hate the way that his threats and his insults and his words had this irreversible effect on you and caused you to press your legs together so pathetically like you couldn’t control yourself. You hated how you wanted nothing more than for him to make good on his words and just fuck you already. Mostly, you hated how much you didn’t hate it and you hated how you actually felt more inclined to misbehave than be good for him because even though it felt so good when he praised you, it also felt incredible when he punished you.

You looked inside your cup, checking out what was left of the drink - after seeing there wasn’t too much left, you took the cup and chucked everything inside of it at Eren before slamming it down on the kitchen island and tilting your head at him waiting for his reaction.

That, he hadn’t seen coming. He wasn’t expecting quick compliance out of you, but he assumed that after him preventing your orgasm you would at least show a little restraint. He had stumbled back a bit, shocked by your retaliation.

There was people surrounding the two of you now, vocalising their interest and edging Eren on to do something about it - he would, just not in front of them.

Lifting up his shirt, he wiped what had gotten on his face off before giving you a dead look and taking your arm in his hold and walking out of the kitchen. The people that were watching expectantly voiced their disappointment before going back to what they were doing.

You stumbled throughout the halls, people shooting the two of you odd looks as you followed him reluctantly - his grip on your arm merciless and all of a sudden you were actually aware of what you had just done.

Eren opened the door to one of the many bedrooms and shoved you inside of it before swiftly shutting the door and locking it, his head hanging low whilst he faced the door and a brief silence fogging up the room, suffocating you.

You stood in the middle of the room, watching his back. You wanted to go up to him and apologise but you couldn’t find the courage to approach him.

As he turned around, you noticed how his eyes looked dark and displeased, like you had really disappointed him this time and like it was his final straw in dealing with you.

“You think that shit was cute, princess? ‘Cause I’m really not happy with you.”

“Look, Eren, I- I was just-”

The sound of his footsteps cut you off as he began walking over to you.

Without warning, he slapped your cheek causing the sound to reverberate around the room and the inevitable silence that stung your ears afterwards. You were no longer looking at him, your head tilted to the side and you resisted that prominent urge to press your legs together.

He cupped the cheek that he slapped and caressed it harshly. “Your safe word is red, do you understand.”

Giving him a clear nod, he took the initiative to pull you over to the bed that sat in the middle room before he took a seat and pulled you over his lap so that your ass was up in the air. He placed something on the bedside table, but you didn’t see what it was. Pulling up your skirt, he caressed the fat of your ass gently.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I was really starting to think that you were beginning to behave as well.”

The sound of a painful slap across your ass rang in your ears as you winced, gripping the sheets.

“I said I was sorry, Eren-”

“You think that’s fucking good enough?” Another slap, this time to your other cheek before he returned back to the other and slapped it a few more times. “You did a very bad thing, princess. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore after your last punishment but it turns out just edging you isn’t enough to help you learn.”

Eren’s palm slapped your ass with a sound that could be heard from the hallway if there wasn’t still music blasting throughout the halls. You sucked in a breath and your grip tightened on the bed’s covers as you waited for the next swat to come, and then the next and the one after that one as well - along with all the smacks that came after that.

Your skin was stinging and hot and it seemed like Eren was hell-bent on breaking you and peering through the cracks of your life with the sheer strength he was putting into every individual slap.

And yet, for whatever sick and twisted reason that had derived from the most wicked parts of your mind, you were moaning and wriggling in his hold in a desperate attempt for friction against your aching cunt. You were finding pleasure in the pain he brought upon you no matter how much it stung and you wanted to cry.

You tried to squirm away as they got harder but it would always result in him somehow making the next harder than the last so you stopped trying.

“C’mon princess, take your punishment like a good little girl. You’re not leaving until you’ve learned your lesson so stay put.”

Letting out a low cry of pain, you tried to move your head up in an attempt to get away slightly yet he just brought his free hand to your head and held it down roughly.

“Don’t tell me I’ve smacked all the sense out of you, princess? What did I just fucking say, huh?”

His words and his force - it was all far too much but equally just what you had been needing. There was something about letting go and not having the control that you so desperately yearned for that was so freeing - and now, with your head pinned and Eren ruthlessly smacking your ass, you had no choice but to submit to his cruelty and relish in the feeling of being used.

Slowly, he moved his hand to reach to the side of your face before tapping your lips in a way that asked for your permission to open up - to which, of course, you complied.

“Just a couple more, princess. Okay?” It had been a while by this point, your face was soaked with tears and your thighs were drenched in your own fluids. Your ass was red hot and growing hotter with every spank. “Just need you to tell me how sorry you are, otherwise I wont know if I can trust you to be good.”

Instantly, you replied - flooding his ears with sobbing pleas and continuous sorrys. He smirked and stopped his merciless attack on your ass before stroking the skin softly and affectionately. He lifted you up so that you sat on his lap and you winced slightly, resulting in a cunning grin forming on Eren’s lips.

You hadn’t been this wet all night, if Eren didn’t fuck you right now you thought you would lose your mind.

“Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, he sat you down next to him before standing up and looming over you - taking your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’ve waited all night, you can’t just-”

“Yes I can.” He cut you off harshly and you stopped your sentence abruptly. He sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “I tell you what, if you beg me right now to fuck you - I will.”

You had already lost so much of your pride - you couldn’t lose anymore. He had gotten everything he wanted yet for some reason, after a single taste of greed, he wanted more.

“I’m not going to beg you, Eren. You’ve gotten everything from me tonight - nobody is ever going to look at me the same again thanks to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Now, you’ve ruined my reputation, the least you can do is fuck me hard enought that I forget about it.”

Eren’s features portrayed nothing other than irritation. He squeezed your chin tightly and you whimpered almost silently. “Who the fuck are you to be ordering me around? Either, you beg, or I leave. It’s entirely up to you, princess.”

You wanted it so bad. Nobody had ever made you feel the way Eren did. Nobody had ever crossed as many lines and tested you so much in a way that actually turned you on. He hadn’t even touched your pussy, yet you already know he know’s how to please it like he’d been fucking you for years.

But, at the end of the day, you couldn’t risk more than you had. You could spend the rest of your life daydreaming about how good Eren’s dick would feel pounding into you as you sat comfortably knowing you had manage to salvage whatever was left of your crumbling social status and build it back up again - or you could beg him to fuck you right now, and he would tell everyone about what a filthy slut you are who’s just desperate for his cock and your entire life would be in shambles. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even fuck you after you begged.

Taking your silence as an answer, Eren hums, before turning back around to unlock the door and reached for the handle.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d fuck you, and the two of you would then go about the rest of your lives peacefully knowing you didn’t turn down what would be the best sex of your life.

You craved him - it was Eren that freed every single one of your deepest and darkest fantasies from their cage and let you fulfill them. You needed him to.

“Wait.”

You had moved so swiftly from your seat and now your hand was covering his on the door handle. He didn’t turn to face you, he just waited for you to speak.

The feeling of your hand dragging itself down his body snapped him out of his stubbornness and made him turn to see what you were doing - only to be met with the sight of you on your knees as you parted your lips to speak.

“Please, Eren. I need you so fucking badly, please, I need you to use me and slap me around and hurt me because it feels so good. Nobody’s made me feel this fucking good before and I don’t understand why but I need you to help me Eren because I can’t take it. I can’t take it anymore, I need you so badly it hurts. Please. Please make me feel good, Eren. Please.” Your voice was laced with a tone of pathetic desperation that made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants.

Turning around fully, he looked down at the sight of your hands clawing at his pants as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Show me.” Eren demanded, his voice somehow lower than ever.

Without thinking twice, you began to unbuckle his belt and tugged down his pants - freeing his cock that was growing harder and more distressed with every second.

Shit - he was big. Bigger than you thought. Of course, you could kind of feel him when he was pressed up against you earlier or when you were bent over his lap - but you hadn’t imagined it was this large. Eren was amused by how impressed you seemed, but chose not to express it.

You started off by stroking the length slowly and kissing the tip before taking it in your mouth.

Eren hissed at the contact, his hand immediately moving to rest on top of your head. Already, you can hardly get enough of the addictive taste of his dick against your tongue and the way it’s drooling with precum.

He’s gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from making too much noise and boosting your ego.

Yet, when his spongy tip hits the back of your throat he can’t help the groan that slips from his lips whilst your own are sucking him so perfectly - your tongue expertly moving around his length.

You bob your head up and down somewhat slowly, his dick being simply too hard to adjust to so quickly.

Your soft, warm tongue was stroking his dick so nicely it was driving him insane, and as much as he could do this forever - there was only so much time before people began to get kicked out of the house and told to go home, and whilst Eren had no idea what the time was, he’d hate himself forever if he let this opportunity slip past his fingers.

The longer he was waiting for you to pick up your pace and quit teasing, the more impatient he was growing. He knew damn well what your mouth was capable of, but apparently no matter how much you ran it and how big that mouth of yours could be - his dick was far too much for it.

Eren considered it a gesture of helpfulness when he grabbed the back of your head and started thrusting viciously in and out of your mouth - the tip bulling the back of your throat as you gagged and choked yet showed no sign of resistance.

Theres saliva travelling down your chin and your slobbering all over his cock - it’s all so messy but none of that is on your mind. The only thing you can think of is showing him how much you need him. He makes you so pathetic that you’re shocked the mean bitch you were just a couple of hours ago ever even existed.

So pathetic, that when he moves his foot directly underneath him, you can’t help the overwhelming urge to grind down on his boot. You knew it was risky, you knew that there was a chance it would displease him but you could never stop yourself from acting without thinking things through properly. However, realistically, how were you supposed to think about anything when he was fucking every thought right out of your brain.

You hoped that he was so consumed by his own pleasure that he wouldn’t have a problem with it - or preferably, that he wouldn’t even notice. Nevertheless, you grinded yourself down against his boot and moaned - the sound muffled by his cock yet the vibrations caused him to groan and his grip on your head grew harder.

It felt so good, the way your hips were dragging your pussy against his boot and giving you the stimulation you had been needing the entire night.

Your hands are gripping at his thighs for some sense of stability as you try to balance yourself whilst he fucks your throat raw and without any regard for yourself - his balls hitting your chin.

Sounds of gurgling and sucking dominated the entire room. It was all so lewd, from the noises the two of you were making to the fact that your hair was becoming a mess and you were drooling dumbly.

“Fuck- you’re such a slut, aren’t you? Doing all of this just so you can get dicked down - so fucking pathetic. I should have expected it from you.”

There are hot tears streaming down your cheeks but you aren’t anywhere near upset. Your makeup is no longer in tact, mascara painting your cheeks.

You can feel all of your senses going practically numb as he fucks them all out of you. You’re struggling to breathe but you’re entirely okay with it - you can barely even moan properly and you can feel the way he’s silently mocking you for it as he continues his brutal pace in your mouth.

Eren is entirely consumed by the pleasure - letting it take over him completely as he mutters out curses and groans deeply whilst keeping a tight grip on your head. He’s losing his mind from the delicious feeling of your mouth taking him so well.

However, he pulls out, evidently not wanting to finish just yet and theres a spark of hope within you that it means he’s convinced and that he’s going to fuck you.

“Shit- that was fuckin’ amazing, princess. Gonna cum all down your throat, next time.”

Next time? Your eyes widened and your heart clenched in excitement at the prospect of there being a next time.

Eren tucks himself back into his pants, that spark of hope dying a bit. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed something before. When he carried it back over to you, you recognised that it was a bottle of beer.

“You want a drink, sweet girl?”

You looked up immediately, wiping the drool of your chin, to see him swirling around the beer in the bottle. “Please…”

Eren smirked in satisfaction as he kneeled down to your level and took your chin in his hand. You tried to reach up for the bottle, but he moved it out of your reach whilst tutting disappointedly.

“Open wide.”

He poured the liquid into your mouth from high above your head, resulting in only some of it going into your mouth as you eagerly took as much as you could while a fraction of it dribbled down your chin and spilled down your breasts.

He took the bottle away and brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the beer on your chin before slipping it into his own mouth and winking at you.

As he looked down at you, he noticed a wet spot on one of his boots and he raised an eyebrow at you. Shamefully, you turned away.

“Fuck, princess, that fuckin’ desperate are we?” he laughed, yet you couldn’t see the humour in it and there was a slight pout on your lips which was soon wiped away.

That singular spark of hope from before sets ablaze once he picks you up and tosses you on the bed in an instant - removing your shoes and starting on your fishnets and skirt.

Flipping you over so that your back is to him, he rips the wings from your back. “Your no angel, princess, I’ll tell you that.”

You could feel his voice against your neck before he started to suck and bite your neck.

He lifted up your top over your head so that you were now bare in front of him.

His hands were roaming everywhere yet his lips stayed on your neck as he kissed and bit your neck in a possessive manner - as though he was letting the entire world that you belonged to someone - that you weren’t just a slut, you were Eren’s slut.

To your dismay, he stood up from the bed. You turned yourself over to see what he was doing only to find yourself confused when he was rummaging through whoever’s wardrobe it belonged to.

Closing the wardrobe door, he turned to face you with a tie in his hand. Biting your lip, you tilted your head up at him in surprise. Laughing, you asked, “You really gonna tie me up with some stranger’s tie and then fuck me in their bed? And I’m the dirty slut.”

Eren laughed along with you, kneeling in front of you on the bed and forcing you to backup towards the headboard. “They won’t know.”

Taking your hands in a delicate grip, he tied them both together to the metal headboard. The knot was tight, so tight you figured you’d have a lot of trouble ever trying to get out of them without Eren’s help.

His lips hovered over yours for the first time before he pressed them together and plunged his tongue into your mouth - kissing you roughly.

He tasted incredible and his lips were so soft. For the first time, he was being properly gentle with you and he had no clue why.

This entire thing began as a revenge fantasy, so why was he all of a sudden feeling the need to handle you like you were glass.

One of his hands slipped between your legs and began to play with your soaking pussy. “Shit, princess. So wet.”

“I need you now, Eren.” You muttered against his lips, snapping him out of whatever daze your lips had put him in.

Bringing his hand back up, he quickly sucked the wetness from your pussy off his fingers and almost groaned at the taste.

Now, he was eager to be inside of you - longing for the feeling of your wet walls hugging his dick so tightly like he knew they would.

“Shit, princess. You think you can take me?” He mocked, a huge smirk plastered on his face and though typically you would have wanted to smack it right off, in that moment, all you could do was whine as you bucked your hips up needily.

He was practically folding your legs like a chair. Both of them rested on his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss your lips before pushing his rock hard cock inside of you. In sync, the two of you moaned at the sensation - and thought that initial pain from the stretch was apparent, so was the feeling of every single one of his veins and the slight curve of his dick.

Once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a moment as the two of you stayed in silence. Eren continued marking your throat as a form of restraining himself from pounding into you ferociously.

Gradually, he started to slowly move in and out of you - and soon enough his cock was brutally hitting that spot within you that had you gasping and seeing stars.

His lips trailed down to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it as he pistoned his cock into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking you so roughly that all you could do was lay there and moan loudly - completely unaware of anything other than how his dick was making you feel.

Eren was mesmorised by the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly and deciding that he needed to see it. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he sat up and used his hands to keep both of your legs up as he watched the way your pussy hugged him so tightly, refusing to let him go.

“Should have know that all it would take was a bit of dick to get you this obedient and good. A bitch like you just needs some dick to put her in her place, ain’t that right, princess?”

His words were hardly registering in your mind, but just the sound of his voice had you whining and your pussy tightening around his dick, desperate for more.

You could feel every inch of his dick pounding into you and dragging ruthlessly against your walls, causing you to gasp and choke on your own moans.

With all of your effort, you took a deep breath before sputtering out a request. “Wanna- t-touch you, ‘ren, please-!”

He paused his bruising thrusts, and with such a speed you had never seen before undid the knot of the tie without any questions - he simply just did as you had asked like he needed you to touch him as well before going back to pummeling his cock in and out of you.

Your hands went to grasp at his back, clawing at the flesh in an attempt to seize some sort of control. Your fingernails were leaving scratched in their places as they dragged down his back which only had Eren groaning at the painful feeling as he picked up his pace and somehow went impossibly faster and more rough.

“Such a whore, and all for me as well. Nobody else gets to see you like this, not anymore. You’re all mine now, princess. Do you hear me?”

You nodded frantically in response, unable to form any coherent words other than curses and chants of his name.

The idea of being just his brought you so close to your orgasm. The idea of being able to have his dick inside of you, making you feel this good, whenever you wanted and all you had to do was just be a bit of a brat (which you were amazing at).

Noticing that you were getting closer, due to the fact that your pussy was only getting tighter around his dick and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer, his hand reached down to play with your pulsating clit in hopes that you’d be able to finish with him. He kissed your face and your lips and stared at you with adoration filling his eyes.

Everything was becoming so much. You were filled to the brim with Eren’s large dick, and the way his skillful fingers were toying with you so effortlessly despite how clouded he was with pleasure made you feel incredible.

“I’m g’nna fill you up with my cum. Shit, I need to see this pussy full with my cum, is that okay, princess?”

You let out a noise of approval as you nodded which was all Eren needed before he finished inside of you and the feeling along with the knowledge of how it was you that he was finishing inside of caused you to reach your high as well.

Eren continued to thrust his dick in and out of you through both of your orgasms as you came in sync. His lips found yours - completely infatuated with the way your lips felt against his and the way you tasted on his tongue.

When Eren pulled out, he was enthralled by the sight of his cum spilling out of your hot pussy as he smirked and used one of his fingers to push what he could back inside of you.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, princess. I’m fuckin’ keeping you, do you hear me? No more of that dare shit - you’re mine permanantly.”

Breathlessly, you replied. “‘M all yours, Eren. Just fuck me like that more often, okay?”

note: it's almost 2am, the ending is rushed and I have college in the morning so i apologise if there are any mistakes. i needed to get this out before I drove myself insane.

#fanfic #smut #attack on titan x reader #aot fanfic #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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starrystormwritings · 9 months

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Regulus Black x Slytherin! Potter! Reader

A/n: This had no plot as I began writing it I had no idea what I was doing and just winged it. I'm desperately looking for requests because I have no ideas at the moment lol. Anyway this is my first time writing anything Harry Potter/ Marauders so if anything is ooc let me know and bare with me <3

Summery: You and Regulus have been keeping your relationship secret from fear of your brother and his friends approval.

Warnings: Swearing, judgment, a little ooc (James and Sirius come across kind of mean I cant lie), reader is James's sister but no mention of their parents or appearance so you can imagine being adopted.

Word Count: 2367

(NOT MY GIF)

"Hey guys!" I said with a smile, taking a seat next to my brother and his friends at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

"Why were you talking to him?" James asked me with a frown, my brother has forever hated the Slytherin house and as much as I can't blame him when I see the way that some of them act I also feel as if I need to defend them, seeming as it is my house.

James was devastated when the sorting hat placed me in Slytherin.

He spent weeks arguing with Professor Mcgonigal about how it was wrong and how I needed a do over because there is no way his 'good hearted and kind little sister could be one of those snakes'

I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting a little, I fit in with the other Slytherins in my year and made friends easily. I stayed away from the ones who shared the likes and opinions of people like Snape because I couldn't bring myself to be friends with people with such hurtful and outdated views.

But a lot of the people I met were nice and friendly.

But James would refuse to ever see that.

"I was taking to him because he's my friend, and we were walking to breakfast together." I said with a roll of my eyes, leaning over to grab myself some food.

"You are not friends with that snake." James said with a look of disgust.

He went to continue his complaints but Sirius cut him off.

"Evan Rosier is one of my brothers friends. Stay away from him." He said with a frown glaring over at the Slytherin table over my shoulder.

"Well even though he is your brothers friend he's also mine. I know shocking crossover for you. He's a nice guy, we do potions study sessions together and he's helped me with charms. He's a nice enough guy." I shook my head at Sirius with a frown, fed up of having the same conversation again and again.

"He's a pure blood Y/n." James said with a frown.

"And so are we, and Sirius." I said with a chuckle, looking to Remus for help but he just looked straight back down at his book.

"Yeah but we're not like them. They're mean and well snakes." James said, trying to keep his voice down despite his growing annoyance.

"They're family's made them like that. Not everyone could get away like Sirius luckily did. Evans a nice enough guy, and if he wasn't you know I'd stop talking to him."

"Yeah but-" James started before I cut him off.

"Remus help me here please." I sighed looking over at Remus pleadingly as he gave me a 'keep me out of this' look.

"Guys leave her alone, she can be friends with who she wants to be." He offered me a small smile before looking back down at his book "Now leave me out of this I'm trying to study."

"Fine fine. Anyway do you guys want to head to the library to pull a prank, I was thinking we could hex the books to make them scream if you fold the paper. Will probably make some people jump out of their skin." James said with a laugh, elbowing Sirius to hype him up about this stupid idea.

"As stupid as that sounds I need to study and since all the books in the library will be screaming I think I'll go to my dorm, I'll see you guys later." I smiled at my friends, waving at them as I stood up.

They all said they're goodbyes in return as I walked out of the hall.

I could feel a familiar Slytherins eyes on me as I left, slowing my pace down in the corridor as I heard the same familiar footsteps approaching me.

"Guess who?" He said from behind me with a chuckle, covering my eyes with his hands.

"Judging from this very shaky blindfold I'm gonna guess Regulus." I said with a laugh, turning around to face the smiling boy.

His hair was still messy despite his obvious efforts to style it, he grinned at me with that stupid lopsided smile you wouldn't expect from him if you were anyone else passing him in the corridor. A stern unemotional expression usually painting his face if he was around anyone else.

My relationship with Regulus started a few months ago when he caught me on the verge of throwing a book at some seventh years who were laughing at me over something so stupid I can't even remember what it was anymore.

He'd told them to piss off and then sat next to me, we spoke for a bit and despite my efforts to brush him off due to Sirius's warnings I couldn't help but be encapsulated by him.

Next thing I knew we were having secret meetings in empty dorms and broom closets.

"How's my favourite girl?" He asked, planting a small kiss on my forehead.

I swatted him away, taking a step to the side. I began walking again, him following close behind.

"What're you doing, someone could've saw." I said with a roll of my eyes, looking for a quite corner or broom cupboard we could duck into to talk.

"Why do you care, we have every right to speak to each other." He said with a groan, he'd been fed up of the secrecy for a while.

He was a private person, and it wasn't like he was looking for a relationship with heavy PDA but the secrecy was beginning to bother Regulus. Just the other day the head of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team asked me on a date to Hogsmead and Regulus just stood there biting his tongue as this guy just continued to flirt out of the excuses I was giving him.

He just wants people to know we are in a relationship, or at least see us together so often they don't bother asking.

But I wouldn't even let him speak to me in public.

"No we don't. I just think spent breakfast getting lectured about walking with Evan. I still haven't lived down when James saw me laugh at a joke Barty made the other week, and that's because they're friends with you. It would cause a war if James and Sirius found out we were together." I frowned at him as we slipped into a quiet corner of the castle.

He stood as close to me as he could and I found myself looking around to check no one was looking.

He put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him, taking all my attention away from worrying and onto him.

"I know your worried but I couldn't care less. What're you so scared of? James is your brother he's not going to hate you." He brushed a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear as he spoke, leaving his hand to linger on the side of my face.

"Sirius is your brother and he seems to hate you." He frowned at that, taking his hand away and stepping back.

I quickly realised what I said, reaching out for his hand and pulling him close to me again.

"I'm sorry, that was mean. I didn't mean that. I just mean me and James have always been so close and I don't want that to change. I love him so much and I love Sirius and Remus and Peter so much as well. I can't loose them over something like this. But I can't loose you either, so if keeping this a secret is the only way I can keep all of you that's what I want to do." I gave him a small smile, holding my breath as I waited for him to respond, hoping he'd just drop the whole conversation.

"Okay I understand. More dates in broom cupboards it is." His hand returned to my face and I giggled lightly.

I looked up at his face with a smile taking in everything about him as I did so.

He was just so perfect I couldn't understand how anybody could hate him.

He leant down to plant a soft kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless despite the chasteness of it.

I smiled at him completely entranced by how amazing he was.

"What the fuck."

Sirius voice made me jump, pulling me out of the daydream I was in as I moved away from Regulus, trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

"Sirius I can explain."

"Explain what? Explain how your kissing my brother? Explain how your betraying me, one of your closest friends? Sure Y/n I'd love a fucking explanation." He glared at me with a look I'd never really seen from him before.

Betrayal.

"I just,,, Sirius." I couldn't think of an excuse, I looked between the two brothers as I weighed my options. I didn't have many "Sirius I love him. Please just let me love him. Don't be angry or turn it into something, please don't bring James into this. Please." I looked at him with pleading eyes as I felt Regulus's hand touch my shoulder comfortingly.

"Take your fucking hand off her." Sirius said with a glare, causing Regulus to back away from me. "How could you do this to me, to James. He cares about you so much he's trying to protect you from people like him. But I guess we were wrong you really are just a snake."

His words stung as I just looked at him speechless.

"Don't speak to her like that, none of this is her fault. What happens between me and you is between me and you, not her." Regulus said, stepping up to his brother.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, your the one in the wrong here not me. That's the way it always is." Sirius said, glaring daggers at him before giving me another hurt look and turning to walk away.

"Your the one who left me! Not the other way around." Regulus said, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

Sirius stopped for a second before continuing to storm off without turning back around.

~~~

The next morning I walked to breakfast with Barty and Evan on my one side and Regulus on my other, holding my hand with a small smile.

Despite the drama of yesterday and the sinking feeling I had all night the weight of the secret had been lifted off both of our chests and it was nice to be able to be together in public without worrying.

I glanced over at the Gryffindor table, hoping to take my usual seat.

I saw the eyes of mine and Regulus's brother staring at me with daggers. I went to take a step towards them, dropping Regulus's hand but Sirius took the book that Remus was reading and slammed it into the empty seat next to him. Earning an annoyed and disapproving look from Remus who then looked up at me with a supportive smile.

I offered him a small smile back before sighing at the other boy's behaviour.

Regulus noticed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me over to the Slytherin table.

I focused my attention back on my friends as Barty continued telling some crude joke, trying to cheer me up a little.

~~~

"I'm sure they'll come around. He's your brother, he loves you." Regulus said whilst running a hand through my hair.

We were cuddling on the floor of a study room in the library, surrounded by books as we chatted and helped each other with potions homework.

"It's been three weeks and the only one of them that's spoken to me is Remus and that's only when we bump into each other. James is avoiding me like the plague, Sirius looks like he's about to kill me and Peters afraid to talk to me as if he'll get excommunicated as well if he does." I sighed, scribbling the notes I was writing out since I'd gotten distracted and lost what I was trying to write.

"They're just adjusting, this is new information they just need time." He kissed my forehead before leaning down to kiss my lips properly, causing me to smile again.

A cough from the door broke us apart.

"Am I intruding?" He asked, leaning against the door frame with a frown.

"James! Hi, your speaking to me?" I said with a small smile, getting out of Regulus's hug and onto my feet, walking over to him.

Regulus looked back down at his book, pretending to study and not listen to the conversation.

"I figured we should talk, I think this is the longest we've ever been apart. I just wanted to clear the air I guess." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm still beyond angry at you though, how could you date someone like him and not tell me." He said with a sigh, pinching his nose.

"Someone like him? I'm so fed up of you speaking about my friends and boyfriend like they're these evil people before you've even met them! He's a loving, caring, sweet boy who I love and who loves me. He just happens to come from a shitty family with shitty ideals. The exact same one your best friend comes from may I add. I'm sorry I kept this a secret from you, I was scared of what your reaction would be and obviously I had a right to be. But I will not apologise for being with him and loving him because I have every right to. I want nothing more than for us to be close again and to hang out like we were but if you can't deal with this then I'm sorry but I'm not going to break up with him over it, so it's you that's going to loose me." I watched his face, searching for some reaction but there wasn't one.

The room went silent for a second as James just stood there staring at me.

"Alright." He said, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

"Alright?"

"Alright. Your important to me, I can learn to get over it. No matter how gross it makes me feel."

I chuckled lightly and hugged him, feeling like a weight had been taken off my shoulders knowing we weren't fighting anymore.

"Are you going to introduce me to lover boy then?" He asked with a strained laugh.

He was trying his best.

#marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter #regulus black #regulus black x reader #x reader #fanfiction #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders era

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foreverdolly · 27 days

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this is a self pitying post and i’ll probably delete it later- but when i’m sad i tend to write it out. i’ve used this blog like a diary of sorts for the last two and a half years. i’ve developed a relationship with a lot of you on here and i appreciate all the love i’ve received so far on my last post. my friends that i have in real life, no matter how long i’ve known them, don’t know too much about my upbringing or my parents. i hate the idea of trauma dumping- it’s uncomfortable for other people: so don’t read this if you don’t want to. i wouldn’t blame you.

my dad died from cirrhosis due to alcoholism. he died miserable and alone. he had no friends. his family was sick of him. i tried to call him as often as i could but sometimes he could be mean if he was drunk. i knew not to call him after 11:00 in the afternoon because he would start to drink. he lived in his youngest brother’s basement and almost never came upstairs because he was embarrassed. i haven’t seen him in three years because he lives fourteen hours from me, but i tried my hardest to call him every week and keep him involved in my life. he never saw any of my homes, never met any of my friends, and never even saw me drive a car (i’ve been licensed since i was eighteen). i cried to him almost every week, begging him to get sober.

he never recovered from my parent’s divorce, and for that i feel so sorry. he called my mother his soulmate and always spoke in past tense- talking about when me and my brother were little. he would tear up when talking about the first time he ever saw me in the hospital after my mother gave birth, and he was vocal about the fact that i was his favorite. we shared a lot of the the same interests and always had fun when talking.

when my mom made a suicide attempt two years ago he was there for me almost everyday, calling me despite the demons he was battling with himself.

the last time i spoke to him was thursday- a week from the day he died. he told me that he almost called a treatment facility but he got tired and took a nap instead. his doctors appointment was today at one and he was going to ask to be admitted and then go to a rehab facility. i told him i’d send him money while he was in there- he hasn’t been able to hold a job since i was still in high school.

my dad was a chef. a damn good cook- classically trained in french cooking. he had the loudest laugh i’ve ever heard, so much so that it used to make me cry when i was a baby. we used to wear matching costumes and he’d sign me out from school on halloween and call me out the day after. he took me to my first concert, but he couldn’t afford both the gas and the tickets (so i paid for the gas with my pocket change at the age of thirteen). he wore adidas strictly- shell toe was his favorite.

when i was little my dad was on night duty while my mom was away: tucking us in, reading us books. he refused to read to me and walked out the door but not before saying “bed bugs and stuff”. i thought it was so funny. it became our saying. every night we spent with each other we said “bed bugs and stuff”. so that was my last send off to him. i hope he’s finally resting well and isn’t depressed, ashamed or lonely anymore where he is.

he died in his sleep. they found a solo cup filled with vodka next to his bed and i can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was going to get help today. he was yellow due to jaundice. what a cruel world.

#i genuinely don’t know what to do

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makingqueerhistory · 1 year

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Queer Book Recommendations

Every once in a while I like sharing some queer book recommendations on here as I read a lot and I get requests to share some of the books I love, so here we go!

Tell Me I'm Worthless: Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends Ila and Hannah. Since then, things have not been going well. Alice is living a haunted existence, selling videos of herself cleaning for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. She hasn’t spoken to Ila since they went into the House. She hasn’t seen Hannah either.

Our Wives Under The Sea: Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home.

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty: Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again.It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career.

Silver Under Nightfall: Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne (though his father might wish otherwise), an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. His mother was the subject of gossip even before she eloped with a vampire, giving rise to the rumors that Remy is half-vampire himself. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost.

Disintegrate/Dissociate: In her powerful debut collection of poetry, Arielle Twist unravels the complexities of human relationships after death and metamorphosis. In these spare yet powerful poems, she explores, with both rage and tenderness, the parameters of grief, trauma, displacement, and identity. Weaving together a past made murky by uncertainty and a present which exists in multitudes, Arielle Twist poetically navigates through what it means to be an Indigenous trans woman, discovering the possibilities of a hopeful future and a transcendent, beautiful path to regaining softness.

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower: As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. She’ll do whatever it takes to solve the cases her family takes on. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake . . .

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror: Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes—such as the circumspect and resilient “final girl,” body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet—spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture: Everything you know about sex and asexuality is (probably) wrong. The notion that everyone wants sex–and that we all have to have it–is false. It’s intertwined with our ideas about capitalism, race, gender, and queerness. And it impacts the most marginalized among us. For asexual folks, it means that ace and A-spec identity is often defined by a queerness that’s not queer enough, seen through a lens of perceived lack: lack of pleasure, connection, joy, maturity, and even humanity.

#refusing compulsory sexuality #it came from the closet #the perks of loving a wallflower #disintigrate/dissociate #silver under nightfall #you made a fool of death with your beauty #our wives under the sea #tell me im worthless #queer book recommendations #queer books #lgbt books #queer history

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beomcoups · 1 month

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Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

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notyourhetloki · 9 months

Text

Ken with a gn doll!reader love interest

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Guess who's obsessed lol anyway... This is NOT spoiler free! In fact, this is set AFTER the movie! I gave Ken a redemption arc because I think he'd be willing to better himself so here you go...

Word Count: 1348

—

How it started:

You were hanging out with Allan at the beach when suddenly Ken approached you, waving and smiling as he spoke: “Hey Allan! Hey (Y/N)! Wanna play volleyball?”

Allan glanced nervously at you before you two agreed, following Ken through the sand.

The game was fun but you were losing, that is until you had the chance to score, jumping up in the air and striking the ball with full force… hitting Ken right in his face.

He dramatically fell back, face covered with his hands while groaning. You quickly ran to him, kneeling on the sand and patting his shoulder. “Ken! Are you okay??”

He revealed his face, slowly blinking while examining you. You worried he was mad... you were new in Barbieland and didn’t want to make any enemies. What if he hated you?

“That… was… AWESOME. How did you learn to plunge like that??” Ken gave you a big smile, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

How it went:

You had been hanging out with Ken a lot lately, spending time at the beach or at your Dream House (all dolls had their own house now, including Kens). He even invited you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House (yes he still called it that) to watch some movies, and you gladly accepted.

He was nice to be around, always glad to help with whatever you needed and always excited for your next activity together. He was goofy and made you laugh, which made him feel good about himself.

And because the way to his heart was through his ego, you two became best friends as soon as you started complimenting him. He even admired you back, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

Ken was ridiculously charming, and you felt yourself falling harder with each moment you spent side by side. But, you had to remind yourself you were not Barbie, and he was Ken... He couldn't possibly be interested in you... right?

Besides, you knew he had a lot to learn yet. After the incident with Kendom and the whole patriarchy thing, he started studying sociology and began a journey to better himself, and you were happy to be there to help.

You reminded him of his daily mantras ("I'm kenough") and accompanied him every time he visited the library for more books. Ken cringed while you reminded him about the past. “At least you apologized to Barbie, right?”

“…”

“RIGHT?”

And just like that the two of you were on an adventure to the Real World, for Ken had a very important mission.

—

You had never been on rollerblades before, so as you arrived at the Real World, you started to wobble. Luckily, Ken caught your hand and continued to hold it, helping you balance. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, blushing at the unexpected touch and intimacy. (Unbeknownst to you, Ken was blushing hard as well, trying not to think much of it. You were just friends, right? This was normal… right?)

You both found Barbie, and you were proud to hear Ken’s apology as he spoke. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, Barbie. For trying to install patriarchy in Barbieland, for stealing your house, for all of it! You don’t need to accept my apologies, but I just needed you to know that I’m trying to better myself every day, and (Y/N) is helping me with that!” While Ken looked ashamed, Barbara looked shocked.

In the end, she accepted his apologies and smiled at you as you waved your goodbyes.

Ken felt immense relief and happiness now that he took this new step in his self-growth journey. He was so happy in fact, that he felt like holding your hand again. You both looked at each other and smiled, hearts racing and faces blushing.

—

You were in his Mojo Dojo Casa House, chatting and giggling like teenagers. Ken started asking about you, very interested in everything you had to say. He was fascinated and wanted to know more about you, and soon he caught himself asking more intimate things. “So… do you have a girlfriend? Or… a boyfriend? I mean… I don’t know, are you even into Kens? I mean…” he stuttered as you laughed.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend… in fact, I never had a significant other before…”

Ken’s blue eyes grew wide, mouth slightly agape as he slid closer to you. “Oh… really?”

“I mean… I’m not a Barbie, not a Ken… not sure I’m even supposed to have someone.” You suddenly grew a little sad at that, being so vulnerable with Ken all of a sudden.

You looked down in shame, but Ken quickly lifted your chin up so you looked at him. His expression was fond, eyes roaming through your face and finally landing on your lips. He grew closer and for a moment you actually thought he would kiss you.

But he didn’t, he stopped and moved back, suddenly a bit confused and anxious. “Ha… I’m… I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually…” he said with an awkward smile.

How it ended:

Ken was desperate when he asked Allan for help. He was so confused, so… eager. He had never felt this way before, not even with Barbie. You were different, you listened to him, inspired him to become a better person, spent your valued time with him and you two had so much fun together! He felt genuinely happy around you, and in the last times you hung around, he felt the deepest urge to kiss you. This desire had been growing the more he tried pushing it away, so he decided to ask for help.

“I mean… (Y/N) is not a Barbie, and I’m Ken! It doesn’t make sense, right?”

Allan looked at him with slight confusion as he responded. “I mean… there are truly no rules, it’s not like there’s a book written somewhere that Kens should only date Barbies.”

Ken was left starstruck because I mean, Allan was right. There are no such rules in Barbieland, that was just something everyone assumed one day. “Thank you, Allan!” He hugged his friend before heading out.

—

Ken invited you on a beach date night and you happily agreed. You two sat on the sand as you watched the waves, but he only had eyes for you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You wondered about the sea and the stars. “Yeah…” he answered, not looking at them.

Slowly, Ken moved his fingers to touch yours, and while turning your head to look at him, you let your hands completely meet.

Your heart beat fast as he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, cheeks rosy and eyes glowing blue as he finally spoke. “(Y/N)… can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Ken.” You smiled in anticipation.

He looked down, doubting himself a bit before looking up again and almost whispering. “Can I kiss you?”

At that moment everything made sense, and you couldn’t help the big smile on your face as you spoke. “Of course!”

He matched your smile and squeezed your hand in excitement before turning away a bit and fist-pumping the air, then turning back with a more collected expression on his face.

Ken stared at your mouth before leaning in, and you leaned as well. Slowly, you met in the middle and finally kissed. Gentle, he grinned against your lips.

The first kiss was quick, but as you stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, he came back crushing onto your mouth, not wanting to be separate anymore. Ken took your face into his hands and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

You both needed to breathe eventually, so you parted. You took the opportunity to ask a very important question. “Ken? Would you…would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Ken gasped, his eyes growing wide and teary as he held your hands in his. “That would be the coolest thing to ever happen to me… yes!”

The two of you hugged tight, and for the first time in forever, everything felt just right.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x you #barbie ken #ryan gosling #gender neutral #ken x gn reader #imagine #fanfic #headcanon #self insert #fanfiction #y/n #notyourhetloki

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

Hi! Xavier has been living in my head rent free since I watched the show. Could you do a jealous boyfriend Xavier x reader?

I went with a light jealous boyfriend!Xavier

keep sending requests for Xavier

—

Despite the November drizzle, you and Xavier spent the day in Jericho. It was cold and foggy, but you really wanted to check out the new bookstore that just opened and Xavier needed restocks of some paints.

Your beret wasn’t doing much at protecting you from the rain, but you wore it mostly for the look rather than its practicality. You and Enid got matching ones the last time you went shopping. She tried to convince Wednesday to get one too, but she explicitly explain how sticking a needle in her eyes would be less painful than wearing a beret.

‘’Next time we come here, we’re gonna need a wheelbarrow to carry all your books,’’ Xavier teased as you took a corner, taking you back to the main street.

Your arm was looped around his, giving you an excuse to cuddle up to him as you walked. Xavier wasn’t big on PDA, but he liked walking around Jericho in this old fashioned way. It was a subtle way of letting everyone know you were taken.

‘’If the school had a better selection of novels, I would not need to buy all these books,’’ you retorted in justification, holding your shopping bag full of new books in your other hand. ‘’Besides, I didn't get all the books I was hoping for.’’

‘’You got four books. That’s a lot.’’

You once got ten books in one trip, but Xavier didn’t need to know that. It would just give him more material to make fun of you and your love for books and reading.

‘’One of them is a birthday present. I think Wednesday will love the collector copy of Salem's lot I found. I was not expecting a small business to have it.’’

Xavier wasn’t a bookworm, but he figured a collector edition was very nice. A sort of special artwork in the literary world.

‘’Small isn’t always bad.’’ He looked down at you as he said it.

You stopped in your tracks and tipped your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. ‘’Are you calling me small?’’

‘’I’m a full head taller than you so…’’ A cheeky smile curled on Xavier’s lips.

‘’I hate you.’’ You glared at him, but he wrapped his arms around you, his embrace enveloping you in an extra layer of warmth. Why was November so cold? ‘’Can we stop to get coffee before we head back to the academy? I’m cold and craving a caramel macchiato.’’

Disgust formed on your boyfriend’s face, a strong hater of the overly sweet drink you loved so much.

You ended up stopping at Weathervane for your coffee. Unfortunately, Tyler was working today so Xavier stayed back and waited outside while you went in. The less interactions he had with him, the better.

Although he didn’t go in, he didn’t miss how Tyler talked to you for longer than the other customers or the way he was smiling as you were leaving with your drink.

‘’Tyler is not preying on me,’’ you denied after Xavier made the accusation. It was honestly ridiculous. ‘’We’ve spoken three times and two times out of three it was about ordering coffee. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’’

‘’What about the third time?’’

You took a sip of your coffee before answering, playing with his jealousy buttons. ‘’He asked if I had seen Wednesday.’’

He’ll let that one slide, but he was still not changing his mind on Tyler.

‘’Why do you jump to conclusions every time a guy interacts with me?’’ you asked. You loved that Xavier was protective of you, but jealousy was not something you found attractive.

Xavier shrugged, genuinely not knowing. ‘’I don’t know. Call it instinct.’’

His answer had you thinking. Perhaps his jealousy was to camouflage his insecurities? Perhaps Xavier was not as confident as he made himself appear, especially regarding you and your relationship. Perhaps he was scared you would leave him for someone else.

Your heart sank and you grabbed his hand, tangling your fingers together. He glanced down at your hands, but said nothing. ‘’I don't care about Tyler or whichever other boy that looks at me, I only have eyes for you.’’ You reached on your tiptoes to kiss him and when you pulled back, the corner of his lips twitched.

—

Xavier Thorpe taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white

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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 3 months

Text

Katsuki Bakugou X Reader - Fluffy oneshot about cuddling

My very first fanfic, so I'm open to constructive criticism! here goes nothing.

______________________________________________________________

"come here"

It was a text from Katsuki. That was odd, seeing as it was rather late for him. You yourself were just about to settle down for the night, switching off the lights in your dorm room and shimmying under the covers, only to get the text as you plugged your phone in. You texted him back, responding with "why?"

The little dots signifying typing popped up, staying for a few seconds, disappearing, reappearing, and then leaving again. Finally, after what felt like ages but was really less than a minute, he simply typed back, "Because." How eloquent. It made you wonder what he really wanted to say and why he didn't want to tell you.

You lay there for a moment, contemplating whether or not to get up. It was a rare experience to have Katsuki ask for your presence so openly, but on the other hand…your bed was warm, begging you to stay, coaxing you with the many blankets and pillows. You sighed, reaching for your phone and texting him back, "You come here."

The sass was almost palatable. You set your phone back down, snuggling up under the covers and waiting for it to ping with a response. What you didn't expect was some heavy stomping from the room across from yours, Katsuki's room, followed closely by his door swinging open, then yours. He was standing in your doorframe, scowling at you.

"When I say come here, it means come here, idiot." He towered over your bed, his arms crossed over his most worn nightshirt in the winter, a plain black short sleeve.

He kept stern eye contact for a moment, using it as a way to silently assert dominance. Finally, after a few seconds, he scowled harder and walked around your bed to you. It seems like you won; he was going to get in bed with you and stay there, adding to the warmth and allowing you peaceful slumber. At least, that's what you thought, which made it all the more surprising when he ripped away the blankets, scooped you up, and tossed you over his shoulder. "Wa- Katsuki! Put me down," you ordered, kicking your legs a little as he walked back to his room nonchalantly.

You loved his room, almost as much as you loved your own. It smelled like him, like musk and burnt caramel, and it was neat and tidy. manga series' (in full, he hates missing books) and educational works lined his bookshelves, his desk had pens and pencils in little cups with workbooks open to the homework this week, his closet had clothes and shoes hung and set neatly on their respective hangers and shelves, along with mountain climbing gear, and most importantly, his bed was pressed into the corner of the room, with grey sheets and a navy blue blanket and pillows. It used to be just the one pillow, but recently he bought a second one because of how often you spent the night. not that he told you about it, that was information you had to figure out yourself. There was a lot of that with Katsuki.

"Fine," he huffed, a twinge of amusement in his voice as he tossed you onto his bed like a ragdoll. He had that malicious smirk on his face and a glint of playfulness in his eyes. "You seem proud of yourself," you said pointedly, making yourself comfortable in his bed. At least it was warm, still heated from him lying in it. The thought made you a little giddy—the idea that you'd be snuggled up with your perfectly imperfect boyfriend for the rest of the night.

"So what if I am?" He got into bed, pushing you out of the center and towards the wall. He lay between you and the door, his back to the "exit" of the bed, as if he were both protecting you and keeping you from leaving.

"You shouldn't be, kidnapping me from my room," you pouted sarcastically back. He grumbled, pulling you into him so that you were spooning tight against one another, and immediately responded, "If you didn't want to be here, you wouldn't be." While technically true, he also didn't give much of a choice. There was a moment of silence, his breathing and yours slowing calmly, his face pressed into your neck. You could feel his breath from his nose fan across your collarbone, his lips against the more sensitive area of your neck.

"…Kat, why'd you wanna cuddle tonight?" It was a simple question, but one he wasn't expecting you to ask. He didn't have an answer for you, not one that he was willing to give, so he dodged the question almost entirely.

"Can't you just enjoy it," he grumbled, his thumb gently gliding back and forth against the back of your hand as he engulfed it with his. His other hand slid under you, wrapping around your waist and under your nightshirt, so he could feel your stomach. His hands were so calloused, given his quirk, but the texture was kind of nice.

You decided to drop it this time, mumbling "whatever," because you didn't have the energy to force information out of him. All you knew was that he needed you, that he felt your presence was necessary for him in that moment. Right then, in the silence of the room, moonlight dripping in past the curtains and illuminating so little, he mumbled back, "I love you," against your skin, almost hoping you didn't hear it.

#fanfic #fluff #mha #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fluff #katsuki bakugo mha #anime #fan fiction

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1d1195 · 3 months

Text

Dolcezza VIII

Read Dolcezza here.

Here's the last part. (I actually have more but not sure if it's enough for a full part.) Maybe I'll save it for an extra, please send feedback if you think it needs more. I hope you've enjoyed 💕

Warnings: angst. more stalking. more crying. some fluff. If it helps at all, I wanted THIS part to be a cliffhanger as well (you can make your own guesses where I would have ended it, mwahahaha), and I imagine if that were the case I would have received a lot of hate messages. Hence why the last three parts were so terrifying hehehe

~8.7k words

Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she fell so hard to the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked so physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on her pretty face.

On Friday she worked a half-day at home, which allowed her to get her car fixed—they gave her a rental to assure her the problem wouldn’t continue since it seemed that would be the case after the last bout of car trouble. Her apartment was clean, thanks to Harry. So, all while working quietly at her desk, she had to sit with the fact that even though they were in an argument, he still took care of her. She had to find a way to apologize to him. But unfortunately, Eleanor was right: she was extremely stubborn and hurt that he went through her stuff. It was obvious that going through her stuff wasn’t the problem. She was certain Harry could move in after a month and it wouldn’t feel weird. It was very much that Harry was worried that bothered her. She wished she had hidden the picture better.

After a lot of arguing with Eleanor, they finally came to an agreement. There were a lot of tears from both parties, but Eleanor made her promise that she was the line. She apologized for not telling her and Eleanor apologized for shouting the stuff about her inability to accept help in front of Harry. The irrational part of her brain could only handle one person worrying about her. Eleanor had known her longer and understood her craziness. Harry was wonderful. He probably understood it just as well and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let him in as fully as Eleanor.

On Friday night, she laid on her sofa and watched a lineup of movies that never failed to evoke rivers of tears from her to get them out of her system. All of Saturday was spent agonizing over her frustration with not speaking to Harry, trying, and failing to read her book and mindlessly helping James and Emma with their various requests. She read Emma’s beautiful essays making her feel more overwhelmed with how much her baby sister had grown. Around noon she met James halfway to get him groceries and told him repeatedly that she was fine, just tired each time he asked her what was wrong. Returning to her apartment made her feel exhausted as if it was already midnight. But her mind wouldn’t let her sleep, which would have been preferable.

That antsy feeling she had brought her to the gym. Using the stair climber felt like hell. It was supposed to help but it made her feel worse. Sweaty and more exhausted than ever, she returned to her apartment hoping she would just fall asleep after a while. Instead of helping in the kitchen on a busy Saturday night as she often did, she stayed in, staring at the ceiling above where she was lying on the sofa.

Fortunately, Eleanor FaceTimed her. She explained all her frustration with her family. How she felt so busy and overwhelmed. Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. “I’m really worried about you, babe,” Eleanor frowned. “It’s like senior year all over again,” she reminded her. She knew what she meant—an overwhelming amount of anxiety plagued her as she applied for jobs and completed her final capstone project. All while managing to help James and Ethan with their own applications for college and scholarships. She nodded unable to deny how she felt any longer.

“I know,” she whispered sadly.

“If your car is still broken, why don’t you have Harry pick me up from the airport next week? I’m sure he won’t mind,” she said it so casually and easily.

It seemed they didn’t get to that part of the conversation the other day as Harry probably intended. Sighing heavily, she put her arm across her eyes. “You can’t get mad,” she mumbled.

“Babe,” she whined with a frown and looked at her, already hurt it seemed. “Are you serious?!”

She explained everything. A month ago, about the picture and note—Eleanor was very unhappy to say the least. How she didn’t tell anyone. Then she told her how Harry cleaned her apartment for her even though they were arguing about him telling on her to Eleanor. Then he found the picture. Her ridiculous reaction and why she felt so uncomfortable with people worrying about her.

“I think I’m in love with him.” She whispered, teary and sad with her own actions.

“Obviously,” Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Maybe...I need to go down to the kitchen,” she sounded like she was suggesting a plan as she spoke to Eleanor. “I have to apologize,” she nodded decidedly. “I have to let him in and let him worry, don’t I?”

“Yes, you idiot,” her voice was devoid of emotion. “I know, really know how hard this is for you, but it’s Harry. He adores you. You can see it on his utterly expressive face. Someone like Harry can’t pretend what he’s feeling—and he wouldn’t either.”

“What if I’m bad at it? What if he doesn’t want to be with someone that’s crazy like me?”

“I’ve never seen you be bad at anything you set your mind too. Harry will forgive you. He’ll help you get better. Knowing him he’ll probably come up with a reward system of garlic bread for you if you want or kisses, if that’s your new thing with him.” She felt woozy listening to her best friend but couldn’t help but smile at the garlic bread idea. “As for not wanting you? You are crazy. Someone who isn’t in love wouldn’t worry about you the way Harry is.”

She listened as her best friend continued speaking but she couldn’t really focus on it suddenly because there was a distinct thud through the wall. A thud that she thought it had to be an actual elephant in the office because she was so sure that Antonio had the apartment sound proofed so thoroughly, that an earthquake could happen in the room next to her and she wouldn’t hear it. She tiptoed to her door, peering sideways through the peephole catching the door to the office was just barely opened.

Antonio was sick. She only knew that because she saw a picture of his sick little family on her Instagram feed earlier in the day. It was why she felt even guiltier about not going down to help in the restaurant because she knew that they would be short-staffed on a busy night without Antonio there.

So why was the door open?

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more. She hurried to her bedroom with light footsteps praying it looked like she wasn’t home, closing the door as quietly as possible and then doing the same as she hid in her closet. Her heart hammered as Eleanor continued to give her all the reasons why she should just let herself love Harry. Just because she had dealt with people who didn’t appreciate her didn’t mean that Harry would be that way. In fact—

“Eleanor,” she whispered once more. But she heard the deadbolt creak open. Eleanor wasn’t listening to her. She had no choice but to end the call. Ignoring her immediate call back, she furiously texted Eleanor the scariest thing she had ever texted. She heard him creep across her living room floor. Her heart was in her throat, and she was lucky she peed right before Eleanor called when she got home from the gym, or she would have had a serious problem right then.

ANSWER THE PHONE Eleanor texted back.

She silently gulped and pressed the phone to her ear. She listened to Eleanor’s soothing voice. Her calmness despite the fact this was everything she knew Eleanor feared the first time she realized her best friend was being followed. The sound of him going through her stuff made her skin crawl. She should have listened to them; to El, to Louis, to Harry. Oh, she wished she called Harry.

Her body felt frozen with the phone against her ear. She couldn’t move. For everything she did for everyone else, she had never felt like this before. Not once had she ever been frozen in place. She never froze when she was scared—not when ten-year-old Emma broke her arm while she was bike riding and her eighteen-year-old babysitting self needed to hold it in place while James drove them to the hospital. When Ethan called saying James got in a car accident his freshmen year of college and he wrecked his car. When Dad told her that grandma wasn’t going to make it to her twenty-fifth birthday, and she should say goodbye. When Mom was worried about a strange lump she felt on her body, and she imagined life caring for her family without her mom anymore. When she promised to be the designated driver for Ethan and James and ended up standing between Ethan and another guy who had too much to drink arguing over something so ridiculous, she didn’t even remember it now.

Not once had she frozen in place like the way she was then. It was mortifying, all the fight and help she gave to everyone...it wasn’t there for herself.

“I know you can’t talk,” Eleanor whispered. She couldn’t do anything. She was frozen. If he made it to her bedroom, she wasn’t sure she would even be able to fight. That was the scariest realization of all. “I’m going to put you on hold and call Harry. I will be right back. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, hang up and dial 911.” She hoped to GOD she could manage that if came to it. Hope the frozenness would dissipate long enough to dial 911.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

“Dolcezza Ristorante. How can—whoa. Okay, okay!" Niall pulled the restaurant phone from his ear and shoved it at Harry. He could hear the shouting before he even brought the phone near his ear.

“Hel—”

“Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!?”

“I’ve been—” He barely got a syllable out before Eleanor was spewing a stream of words that were somehow one sentence. Or maybe it was five sentences. Harry lost track of nearly everything, only understanding the gravity that came from the sound of her shrieking. She only made out a scattering of the important words. His eyes widened as he processed her speech.

Harry dropped the empty dishes of finished food he was holding creating a massive mess. Everyone stopped and looked at him. “Harry?” Niall asked.

There was a breath of silence and frozenness. It was like the sizzle of the food in frying pans, the simmering of sauces in pots had all stopped making noise as well. Then he moved, running the few short steps to the kitchen door to the alleyway. “Call the police!” he shouted over his shoulder. He dropped the phone in the debris as well leaving Niall to fish it away from the broken glass and listen to Eleanor repeat the words she just said to Harry.

Harry was outside the back door and taking the steps upstairs two and three at a time. The door to her apartment was already open which made his stomach churn. Quickly and quietly, Harry hurried inside. The place was a mess. It was not her. If Harry hadn’t a more pressing purpose, he would have considered cleaning it up for her again, just to make her happy. All the pretty decorations and all her belongings that made it feel so homey, were overturned, or tipped over. Papers and pictures were across the floor. Like a student on their last day of school, throwing out all the papers from the year in the air like confetti. Harry felt his stomach twist again.

“Who are you?” A voice asked.

Harry turned slowly to the sound of the stranger. The one that had quietly wreaked havoc on her life for so long. Harry’s eyes dropped to the long strap of fabric in his hands. It almost looked like a tie, but it was thicker. Something that was intended to go over her eyes or wrap around her hands, he was sure. His eyes traveled back to the stranger’s face. There was something off about him. His eyes felt hollow. Like there was a misconnection between his brain and the rest of his body.

Harry hadn’t a clue what to do. But this had to be better than her trapped in the apartment with a lunatic.

“I work downstairs. We heard a commotion,” he lied, knowing Antonio added extra insulation and sound proofing to keep the sound of the restaurant out of the apartment. “Where is she?” He asked.

His answering smile was creepy—like he only learned how to smile recently. It was so discomforting Harry felt his stomach flip again with worry. His creepy smile paired with the emptiness of his eyes filling with a look of sick sense of delight made Harry’s skin crawl. It took everything in him to not have a physical reaction to his words. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Don’t know how someone can hide in a small place like this.”

“You need t’leave,” Harry ignoring the words he said. If he didn’t process them, they wouldn’t mean anything. “Now.”

“I thought I lost her,” he ignored Harry. “Then Eleanor... she came to visit and posted that picture of her. You could see the takeout bag in the background. It was a matter of time. I don’t want to lose her again.”

The man was delusional. Harry could see that. But his heart quietly broke for Eleanor, knowing she would lose her mind if she found out she was the reason her best friend was found by this guy. He silently vowed he would keep that to himself for as long as humanly possible.

“Listen. If y’don’t leave. Y’lose her. For good. If y’leave,” he swallowed. It felt like a gulp of vinegar. “Y’might get t’see her again.”

“She likes games,” he remarked rewrapping the strip of fabric around his hand. “It was like a scavenger hunt trying to find her,” he explained. “This is just another game.”

Harry tried to discreetly look for her around the open space. There was no way she was in this open room. There was nowhere to hide. Not unless she was somehow inside her sofa or under the kitchen sink. But... she had to be somewhere. There was only one real way out of the apartment and there was no way she would get through the door and down the creaky steps without him knowing after he saw her exit the rental car.

The wrought iron fire escape wouldn’t fare her much better. He would be down in the alleyway before she reached the bottom. Escaping wasn’t an option. Harry cleared his throat trying to feign innocence and help. “Can I help y’look?”

He nodded easily. Having no clue that Harry wasn’t there for anything other than making sure there wasn’t a commotion because he worked downstairs. It was very clear that he was ill. It made him sick to think she had brushed him off for so long. Played that it wasn’t a big deal. It felt horrible. All of it. Harry’s bones felt like mush.

“I need to check the bedroom and the bathroom.” That much was obvious. He had ransacked her entire apartment.

A fifty percent chance of rain was strong enough for Harry to walk around with an umbrella. When he took tests in his algebra class almost fifteen years ago, narrowing his multiple-choice questions to two choices was the best thing he could manage when he struggled with a question. The coin-flip wins he had with Niall each time they had to vacuum the main room at Dolcezza had left him with an impressive 38-102 record that he was certain the coin was always favored on his behalf.

Right now, a fifty-fifty chance may as well have been the chance of getting struck by lightning or winning the lottery.

Harry had to pick correctly.

He did a quick mental inventory of the bathroom and bedroom. Hiding in the bathroom almost made more sense. The door could lock. But if it was locked, it might make him angry—it seemed almost too obvious of a choice. He would break the door down knowing she was in there. It would be bad. The small linen closet maybe could hide her, but he wasn’t certain. His mind sprinted through the furniture in the bedroom.

“I’ll check the bedroom,” he tried not to run in there suspiciously. He checked under the bed, relieved she wasn’t in there. The tall wardrobe he had helped anchor to the wall after she decided the bookshelf was firmly in place and she had visions of the wardrobe falling on her was also empty. The only real place left that could hide a person was the closet. If she wasn’t in there, Harry would cry.

There was nothing else he could do but open it and see if he was right. It was like he was ripping a band-aid off. He yanked the door out of the way.

Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she had fallen so hard on the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on the beautiful face he was so in love with.

Nothing compared to the look of anguish in her eyes and her shaky lower lip right at that moment he found her frozen still in her closet. Her phone was clutched to her ear in both shaky hands. Eleanor undoubtedly at the other end whispering to her to keep calm. Harry had never felt anything like the warmth spreading through his whole body seeing her pretty being there, perfectly whole, and beautiful. Whether she was terrified or not.

The relief Harry felt seeing her before him almost knocked him to his knees before her. There was nothing he wanted more than to hold her, whisk her down the steps, bring her to the kitchen, and feed her as much garlic bread, eggplant parmigiana, and minestrone soup as her heart desired.

He had to get him out of here. He gazed at her for a moment longer, his mouth pursing into a frown and he closed his eyes. “She’s not here,” he said evenly and closed the closet just as quickly as he opened it. He headed back to the main room where he noted that he had in fact, torn apart her bathroom as well. He frowned dejectedly.

“She has to be here. It’s seven-thirty. She’s always home at seven-thirty. That’s when she watches Jeopardy.”

Harry thought he was going to throw up. Knowing her schedule wasn’t something he had fully processed. “Maybe she’s not here,” he suggested.

“No, her car is in her spot. She had to get a rental while her car is in the shop.”

Harry was certain he was going to throw up.

“Maybe she hit traffic,” he tried instead.

“She always leaves time for traffic.” Harry strongly considered just slamming his head into the wall. “You’re lying,” his voice wasn’t accusatory. It was factual. Somehow that was worse. His hands tightened on the length of fabric once more.

“What?” Harry shook his head trying to feign calmness. But his heart started to speed. His fingers started to feel numb.

“She’s in there,” he sounded... excited. Harry’s heart was hammering in his chest. “Honey,” he called almost gleefully and started for the bedroom.

She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Or vomiting. If she made a sound she was done for. Harry knew she was here. She knew Harry was there to protect her. Even after she pushed him away because he was the first person to show her what it was like to be cared for by someone else. Someone who didn’t take advantage of her kindness. Someone who wanted nothing more than to make her feel better when she was down.

She thought she was going to collapse on the floor of her closet when Harry yanked the door out of the way. She didn’t know if it was her stalker at the time. The weight that lifted seeing someone she knew... and someone she knew would help her, crushed her. Harry looked about as pained as she felt, and she didn’t know what to do or say so she simply stood there in shock and let Harry take care of her.

She’s not here. He said closing her back in the closet.

“Oh, thank God,” Eleanor whispered to her ear.

Eleanor had called Harry who knew how many times before she called the restaurant. Within seconds of switching back to her while she hid in the closet, listening to him ransack her living room. “He’s coming,” she promised. “Niall called the police,” her voice was so quiet. “I wanted to get back to you,” she explained. “I... I don’t want him to get away,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, babe,” she could hear Eleanor’s tears and she wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but she was still frozen like a block of ice.

Hearing Harry’s warm voice feign calmness made her melt. Watching the shadowy figure in her room made her want to scream but she was still stuck in place. Eleanor was whispering comforting things. Quietly begging to no one that Harry get to her first.

Her heart was beating so fast and there was sweat on her hairline. Her phone slid in her grip with the anxiety she felt causing her hands to sweat as well. She clutched the phone to her face even harder. Listening to his exchange with Harry and Eleanor’s quiet reassurances did nothing. She was so scared. She closed her eyes as if not seeing the inside of her dark closet would make it go away. Her body was thrumming with a heartbeat that seemed to appear in every inch of muscle. It made everything ache.

“She’s in there,” his voice was excited, and the tears found their way around her hand cupped over her mouth. With her eyes still closed, she could hear Eleanor whispering something, but she was too scared to process the meaning. “Honey!” He called. Like he was home from work, and this was normal. She heard him twist the doorknob to her bedroom.

She was going to be sick.

She inhaled to scream but instead, there was a commotion then. She imagined the soundproofing failed. It surely sounded like two adult men landed hard on the floor, the thud had to have transferred through and down to the restaurant. She was shaking. Every inch of her body. She could hear more of her belongings breaking and toppling hard on the ground. It felt like her lungs were shaking inside her ribcage with each quiet breath she had to take silently. She listened to the grunting and sound of punches landing.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but it felt like hours.

The swears and grunting stopped. There wasn’t a sound. Then a door slammed shut. It sounded like the door to the little laundry room. “El,” she whispered soundlessly, her voice hardly loud enough to get the syllable out.

“I’m calling the police again,” she switched the line leaving her in silence. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be left alone with someone entering the room.

“Principessa?” Harry’s voice was in the room.

She was frozen, terrified. What if it was a trap? He had gotten hold of Harry, had a knife to his throat or something equally disastrous. Her hand shook against her ear wishing Eleanor was back already. She couldn’t make sense of it.

“Kitten?” He tried again, his voice was gentle.

Her knees buckled.

“M’gonna open the door, my love,” he whispered softly.

The doorknob turned.

Finally, she had strength again. Her fight, flight, and frozen abilities finally shifted from frozen to fighting. She threw herself at him hoping to knock him off his feet and out of balance. She was so worried that it was still a trick. She was going to run downstairs and into the kitchen ruining the dinner rush, but it would well be worth it. She was too scared to process anything that was happening and she threw her bodyweight at him and threw her fists at him as best she could.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry gently cooed, grabbing her wrists as she tried to wrangle herself away from him now that she had thrown him off balance. “Hey, hey, Principessa,” she continued squirming and throwing weak punches at him while still terrified. She was grateful she wasn’t so scared that she couldn’t fight back after all.

Despite everything, he was so proud of her for not giving up. Even if the danger was completely gone just yet. “Hey, s’okay, now, Principessa, m’here,” he promised and gave her wrists a soft squeeze. She finally stopped, going limp in his arms as she realized she was attacking Harry and not her stalker. Harry gave her a forced smile. Mixed with a grimace. “You’re okay, kitten. M’here,” he repeated cupping the side of her face so he could lock his gaze with hers. See that it was alright, that she was safe now.

She broke.

It was a miracle she could still stand but she probably had Harry to thank for that. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered her eyes flooding with tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” she sniveled covering her face now that Harry had released her. “I thought I could... I thought I could handle it. Handle it all...” she hiccupped. “But I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I was so scared, Harry,” she whimpered. Harry knew his face wasn’t holding neutral or positive. He felt as broken as she sounded. “I’ve been tired and scared for so long and there’s been no one—” her sob choked her words.

Harry thought his heart was going to split right in the middle. If it did, he wanted to give her half of it just to make her whole again. Just to make the pain stop. He tucked her head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Oh, Principessa,” he cooed. “M’here,” he promised kissing the top of her head and soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “M’here.”

“I—” She tried to speak but the tears and emotions coursing through her stopped her vocal cords again.

“Shh, my love, shh,” he cupped the side of her face against her chest. His thumb stroked her damp cheek, and he kissed her hairline again. “M’here,” he repeated the promise. She was overwhelmed by how warm Harry was. His arm wrapped around her waist holding her tight against him. It was the first time she felt safe in hours... weeks if she was honest with herself. Harry held her silently, letting the tears and shaky sobs subside as her body shook against him. It made his chest tight with anxiety. To think she had been holding in all those emotions for so long just so others wouldn’t worry about her. “M’always going t’worry ‘bout you, kitten. Danger or no danger,” he promised.

She sniffled and pulled away from his embrace so she could wipe her hand on her cheek and Harry smudged his thumb across her other cheek brushing the tears away. Harry was scanning her face making sure he got each salty drop and every tear track off her face. As he did, she couldn’t stop staring at his concentrated expression. “I think I love you,” she whispered.

It was as if someone had put a defibrillator on his chest and shocked him. It felt like his heart was beating twice as much and he could hardly breathe as she whispered those perfect, beautiful, sweet words. His thumb stopped smoothing over her skin. His gaze dropped to her eyes again, as she looked at him, her breath shaky and she sniffled again shaking her whole body again. He started to laugh. Despite the situation, despite the worry, despite everything that was going to happen as the impending sirens got closer and closer to them. “I know I love you, Principessa,” he tilted her head up beneath her chin.

He did know. He loved her so much. It was overwhelming. The moment he laid eyes on her. The moment he touched her arms and helped her to her feet. When he had carried her things to her apartment. When she played with Leo. When she was sick. Each time she helped in the kitchen. Or when she bought him the book that he looked at for thirty seconds longer than all the rest. Every single second of knowing her, he fell more and more in love with her.

“Even though—”

He shook his head, rubbed his thumb on her lip to silence her. “I love you,” he said simply. The red and blue lights illuminated her apartment, and she heard more scary thuds ascending the staircase. “Nothing else.” She sank into his embrace and allowed herself to let go. Let someone else take care of things for a few moments.

The police were thorough. They stationed someone outside the building. Harry didn’t let go of her hand and wouldn’t let her leave his side. He was insistent she stay in the bedroom as they entered. They took pictures of everything in her place and Harry stood conveniently in front of the bedroom entryway while they brought her stalker outside. Harry assured Eleanor that she was okay while she cried against him. She would call back in a bit, but they had stuff to deal with.

“Thank you,” he croaked gratefully. The thankfulness he felt for Eleanor was so immense.

“Yeah, same to you,” she sniffled. “Don’t forget to call me,” she said seriously despite the sadness in her voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised. The police asked about a thousand questions which was exhausting in its own right. Niall finally rushed up, seeing the police bringing the guy down and he nearly got himself arrested for being so swift.

“He’s okay,” she promised with a shaky voice. They let Niall enter, who immediately gave her a huge, awkward hug because Harry wouldn’t let go of one of her hands.

“The whole restaurant is in limbo worried about you. All the regulars are worried about you,” he sighed. “I had to come up,” he explained sheepishly.

“I’m sorry—”

“Oh my God,” Harry shook his head and Niall kissed the side of her head.

“Tesorino,” he chuckled. “It’s so okay.”

“But Harry’s not—”

“Harry needs to be up here with you,” he promised. “The restaurant is very understanding,” he explained. “This isn’t something to worry about, Tesorino,” his tone was so reassuring. “M’gonna go back down and spread the good news,” he smiled. “In the morning, we’ll have breakfast, yeah?” He asked glancing at Harry briefly. He nodded quickly. She wasn’t leaving his side and she certainly wasn’t spending the night without him

She nodded with another smile. “Please.”

“I’ll cook this time,” he winked and squeezed her one more time before heading back down.

With the open door to her place, she couldn’t mistake the thundering applause the erupted from the restaurant below her. It made her tears begin to flow again. After several more questions, an EMT scanning her for any sort of damage and repeating her statement at least two more times with the help of Harry, she thought they were finally done.

“Hey!” One of the officers shouted. Harry looked the most alarmed and shoved her protectively behind him as the sound of thundering footsteps echoing up the stairs once more.

“Where is she?!” He sounded like he was going to cry.

“James?” She whispered, pushing herself from behind Harry.

“Oh, thank God,” he strode across the room, stepping on overturned debris and even though she was older than him, he lifted her off the ground. But that’s when the tears started. “Jesus Christ, Sis, why didn’t you tell me?!” He croaked. She blinked in surprise holding onto him as he crushed her to his body. Her lips parted in shock. She glanced at Harry who smirked at her with a touch of sadness in his eyes.

However, there was more commotion downstairs. “I’m her mother!” She could hear the anguish and felt it in every inch of her body.

“Oh my God,” she whispered beside James’ ear and looked up at Harry once more.

“I got it,” Harry pressed his hand on her back. Her feet were back on the floor, but James still didn’t let go. Harry quickly looked down the steps to assess the new guests. “Y’can let them up. S’her family.”

Emma looked practically animalistic, flying up the stairs, almost on all fours with the speed she took the steps. She made it to the doorway—nearly shoving Harry out of the way and all but crawling across the floor with the momentum she had built up making her way up the steps. She flung herself at her siblings wiggling herself between James who still had not let go of his older sister for a moment. “How could you?!” Emma sobbed, muffled, and squished between her brother and sister.

“Oh, my,” she whispered. “Em, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay,” she hissed but remained clinging to her.

Her parents soon joined their hug asking a thousand questions that she was simply too exhausted to answer. “You don’t want to get in on this?” She asked with a watery voice. Her words floated over Emma and James who refused to let go of each side of her after a kiss on the top of her head from both her parents. Ethan was last in the room, he stood idly near them. He smirked at her question.

“Want my own hug, beautiful,” he winked. Harry snorted, ignoring the jealousy running through him because he believed Ethan was probably way more worked up than he was letting on for the sake of looking like a normal person. She felt her face warm and glanced at Harry who was smirking. “You gave us all the scare of a lifetime.”

Harry was asked to relay the story to her parents, which he did so gratefully. The shock and hurt they had on their faces realizing this was the first they knew of someone stalking their baby.

“Ethan had to drive,” Emma sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she finally pulled away from the embrace. James didn’t want to let go, it seemed. He stood so close to her, his arm touching her. Like he was pressing into her side.

“Sounds like you all had scarier things to deal with,” she looked at Ethan who scooped her up again lifting her off the ground the same way James had. He kissed the side of her head, and she squeezed him back. Ethan wrapped her in his embrace when he whispered something in her ear with a smile. Almost immediately, she pulled from him and punched his arm. “You always ruin something nice.”

“Sweetie, that is not funny,” her mom said tearfully turning her attention to Harry. “Thank you,” she said seriously.

She giggled, making Harry’s heart sing now that he wasn’t as worried. “It’s kind of funny.”

James hadn’t moved from her side, looking at her in awe. His oldest sister was his hero. This hurt him so much. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“James,” she sighed.

“No! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”

“There was nothing you could do, James,” she whispered. His lower lip wobbled, and his eyes filled with tears. He looked at the floor. She knew he was upset, obviously.

“One of the people at my internship, said your name out loud. I read the transcript it was Eleanor... I... I didn’t know this address. I had to look up the restaurant. I...”

“Jamie,” she hadn’t used that name since they were young. James had been James since he started kindergarten. She reached out for him again, tugged him toward her. “I’m okay,” she promised. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly, rubbing her hand up and down his back and tucked him into her embrace, holding the back of his neck as he shook with sobs.

It broke Harry’s heart knowing she was comforting her family over something that happened to her. But maybe it helped. Distracted her for the moment until she was able to deal with this. Harry wasn’t letting her go the second they left. He would comfort her the way she deserved as soon as they were gone.

Harry’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Eleanor. He said hello, flipped the camera around, and showed off the room. “Jeez, you let Ethan and James throw a party?” Her voice cut through all the comfort and tears.

“I resent that, Eleanor,” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“How are you doing, babe?” She asked with a smirk, seeing her holding James like he was her little brother again and not a foot and some taller than her.

She was still holding James who refused to remove his face from her neck. “I’m good,” she promised. “Thank you.”

“It was a team effort,” Eleanor smiled. “Think Harry deserves the biggest of thanks,” she said knowingly.

She nodded against James’ hold and looked over to Harry. “Mmm,” she hummed. “I think so too.”

Her family stayed in her apartment. They were insistent. Now that the pictures were taken, they were going to clean it up. All five of them. “Dibs on the underwear drawer!” Ethan said excitedly.

“You’re disgusting,” her dad grumbled.

“Can you arrest him too?” She turned to the police officer with an eye roll.

He pouted and the officer chuckled. “A guy can hope,” he shrugged helping James with the kitchen. Her mom helped her pack a bag for Harry’s, telling her how nice her place was. Even ransacked. It smelled delicious. Her dad was impressed with how the furniture was anchored to the wall and when told it was Harry’s doing, he thanked him once more for caring about his eldest.

Niall made a second trip up with a box of food for everyone to eat. Everyone sat and ate, moaning about how good everything tasted amidst the messy overturned furniture, broken glass from picture frames, and other decorative things. No one minded. Emma sat next to her as well as James who refused to let his gaze move from her.

“I’m okay,” she murmured to both. She kissed the top of Emma’s head and patted James’ knee. He shook his head holding his phone up to show him all the texts from his girlfriend.

I know you’re busy, but please keep me updated. I’ve never met her but I’m also super worried.

She frowned look at James with watery eyes. “I love her already,” she promised.

There was a lot of logistics to figure out. Her mom said they planned on leaving early in the morning to get belongings back home before returning to a hotel nearby so they could help with whatever she needed for the next couple days. “You’ll stay at Harry’s for a few days?” She asked, glancing at Harry.

“Yes,” he said before she could brush it off. “M’not...” he smirked and looked at his lap. “Don’t want her out of m’sight,” he admitted.

“Good,” everyone nodded in agreement.

“You don’t need to stay,” she assured them. “It’s really okay now.”

“Forgive me, but I have a hard time believing you now,” her mom made the same angry face that she always made. A crease between her eyebrows, a frown on the corners of her mouth.

“I know that you just went through something scary,” Emma began. “But do you think—”

“Jesus Christ, Emma!” James nearly shouted.

“Let me finish!”

“You’re such a selfish brat! You’re probably the reason she didn’t tell us with all your essays and—”

“Children—” her mother started.

“ME? You’re the one she’s been buying groceries for because you spend your money before it reaches your bank account—"

“You two knock it off!” Her dad shouted. Ethan snickered and shook his head chomping on the garlic bread that Harry honestly wanted to yank out of his hand so there was more for her to eat. She smirked and turned to Emma, her back to James, which Harry was sure felt like a slap in the face to him.

“What do you need, Em?” Harry kind of wanted to yell at Emma too for asking for something. But he waited because obviously the sweet girl knew her sister better and clearly sensed something kind at the end of her request.

“Could we make cookies together, tomorrow?” She asked, looking like the little girl that broke her arm and she had to comfort for a whole car ride.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’d like that,” she promised. “You two will have to help too,” she said looking at James and Ethan. James was scowling at Emma’s satisfied smile of being right.

Ethan smirked. “Would love to see you in an apron, beautiful.”

Harry drove her back to his place before the restaurant closed. Niall said he would hang back for longer to give them time to get settled peacefully. Harry refused to let go of her hand. It was almost eleven thirty when they parked in his driveway. The exhaustion was so heavy it was a miracle she could stand. But Harry was probably to thank for that.

There wasn’t much talking in the car, but she was glad to hold his hand. She knew they had lots to discuss but she was tired. Harry was surely tired too. He grabbed her bag. “Do you think Ethan and James should sleep in the living room?” She asked suddenly as Harry unlocked the front door. Harry could see her mind spinning rapidly. It was like she was awake again, caught a second wind from the spiral in her own mind. “Just in case? I don’t want something to happen to Emma or my mom. Oh, I’ll have to fix Antonio’s office tomorrow. Oh... oh we didn’t tell Antonio—”

“Principessa,” Harry ushered her inside and dropped her bag on the living room floor. In the same movement, he cupped her face, and looked her squarely in the eyes. He pressed his thumb on her lips, silencing her. At once, her eyes softened. The forehead crease disappeared. Harry thought this was better than winning an award just to see her relief coat her face thanks to his gentle encouragment. “S’okay,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re not worrying about anything else for tonight.”

“But... I feel really bad!” she pouted below his thumb making a rush of electricity throw through him where his thumb touched her lips. “I know I hurt your feelings and I wanted to talk—”

“Kitten,” he shook his head. “Not tonight,” he promised. “Y’went through something really scary—”

“So did you!”

“—and s’far as m’concerned, you are a hundred percent forgiven. M’glad you’re alright. We can discuss anything y’want in the morning,” he promised. “But we’re not worrying ‘bout anything but kissing and sleeping tonight,” his voice was so serious, and it made her flush that pink color Harry worried she wouldn’t show him after their argument. It felt like ages since he had seen it when realistically it hadn’t been more than two days.

“Well, can we worry about the shower or something? I feel like I smell terrible, and I need to get this night off me,” she wrinkled her nose cutely.

“I think y’smell good,” he chuckled tucking his face into her neck and pecking at her skin. “Can y’even stand long enough for a shower?”

“I’m not getting in your bed all sweaty and gross,” she yawned. “I’ll sleep in the shower if that’s the case.”

He smiled. “Whatever y’say, my love.”

Harry gave her a head start on the shower and texted Antonio a brief update just in case he felt better tomorrow and made it in. After a few questions and a couple more reassurances that everything was okay, Harry finally told him about the most annoying part. I’ll clean up the office... he sent a row of eye-rolling emojis as well. Followed by the vexing part. She’s worried that it’s her fault and wants to assure you it will be clean.

Harry was surprised he was awake, but maybe the kids were keeping him up with whatever illness they were feeling. Tell her to shut up and she better not or I’ll never let her have garlic bread from the kitchen ever again.

Harry smiled, stripped his clothes off, and stepped into the warm steam along with her to get the grime from the day off. “I love you,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “I love you too,” she said sweetly. He cupped her damp face, brushing the suds from her shampoo away from her eyes and he kissed her so deeply and warmly, it felt like he was putting her back together with just a kiss.

Harry slipped on a pair of boxers and grabbed her bag to put in his room. She sat in just a large T-shirt she had left behind and a pair of his boxers as well on the edge of his bed. Harry brushed her hair for her and put lotion all over her body massaging the back of her legs and kissing her softly once he finished. As soon as her hair was brushed and toweled dried enough that she felt comfortable laying on his bed with damp hair, she slunk into his mattress and pillows with a long, heavy sigh. Harry immediately followed suit and wrapped his body around her. He kissed the back of her head and sighed in complete happiness.

His phone pinged with a text from Niall, stretching away from her long enough to find out he was pulling down the road. He knew that Niall did so that Harry wasn’t alarmed when the light from his headlights slid over the room and made him worried when someone entered the home. He still clutched her closer as he heard Niall shuffle right by his door, still nervous. But, somehow, she was nearly snoring already.

“Principessa,” he hummed.

“Hmm?” He wasn’t sure she was even a quarter awake. Maybe it was reflex to answer.

“I love you,” he kissed the back of her head. “So much,” he murmured.

She twisted awkwardly, exhaustedly, to face him. Harry draped his arm around the front of her pulling her closer to him despite the fact she could kiss the space between his collarbone if she wanted to. Beneath the covers she curled the arm closest to the mattress against his chest and the other held onto his hard hip. Harry pressed his lips to her forehead. Holding her in place and enjoying the feel of her soft skin below his lips. “I love you too,” she answered.

“Principessa,” he whispered. “I know y’need t’sleep. M’sorry. I really need t’say this,” he brought his hand back to her face and stroked his thumb against her cheek. She almost perked up completely, like she was fully awake. Harry felt a pang of worry course through him. She was so ready to give anything and everything of herself just for him. Probably for anyone. He imagined if James or Emma called right then asking for her to come back, she would. “You don’t bother me,” his voice was quiet, but deep. It made her whole body ache to hear him say it. “Ever. I was going to come up and apologize during dinner,” he admitted.

“Oh,” she giggled every so lightly. “I was going to go down and do the same,” she responded.

He chuckled and felt relief flow through him. “Really?” She nodded against his body.

“I won��t push you away... or I won’t like that. It’s going to take some time but... I really want to be better about accepting you being there for me. I really want that. I promise. I’m so sorry, I yelled at you,” she whispered.

“S’okay, kitten. I know... I know s’not easy,” he kissed between her eyebrows and rid herself of the pinch. “You’re forgiven. M’gonna help y’no matter what. No matter how much y’might not want me to,” he chuckled softly again.

“That’s...the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said or done for me,” she nosed at his chest sighing contentedly getting ready to fall asleep wrapped in Harry’s warm embrace.

It was perfect. She was so grateful for that little apartment. That perfect restaurant. Everything. “Sweetest, Principessa?” he repeated tiredness coating his voice, but he could talk to her for hours and hours tomorrow. But for now, he wanted her to know before she fell asleep. “For you, la mia dolcezza, y’deserve all the sweetness and more.”

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Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @crossyourpeter @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @emmaawbr @hermionelove @12yeahiminluvwu @cohnfusedarling

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #dolcezza

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