i swear to god i just did it like twice in a row

Who Did You Call!?

Three nights in a row now Keith was woken up in the middle of the night only to find Lance not in bed besides him.
Normally Keith wouldn’t be too worried about this, just whenever he asked Lance about how he slept all he got was a forced smile and a guilty “fine”.
Keith did trust Lance.
He trusted and loved him more then anyone else on this god forsaken planet.
He never even considered his boyfriend could be cheating on him until Lotor showed up.
Lance had once told Keith before they got together that his dream guy was tall, with long hair and is good looking enough to be a model.
A week ago Lotor had moved into the building.
The amazingly tall man with the body of a Greek god and the flowing white hair of a princess.
The super model that only seemed to own booty shorts and not a single shirt.
The guy that left Lance speechless just by winking at him.
Keith knew he was hot headed and tended to jump to conclusions so he tried talking it through with the most rational person he knew.
His brother Shiro.

“He’s been keeping secrets from me and sneaking around at night. I tried talking to him about it but he just won’t talk to me.” Keith whispered into his phone.
Yet again he had woken up only to find the bed empty where Lance should be.
Not knowing what else to do he called Shiro, despite it being 3am he had answered straight away.
“I don’t know what to tell you Keith.” Shiro yawned “if you think he’s cheating on you then you have to confront him, it’s better to apologise for being wrong then finding out he’s been dating guys behind your back.”
Keith nodded “yeah… first thing in the morning I will.”
“You know it’s probably nothing, I’ve never met a more loyal guy then Lance.”
Keith smiled “yeah your right, thanks Shiro.”
“No problem, night”
Keith hung up and settled back down in his pillows when he hears it.
“Hey it’s Lance again. I’m sorry I called you so late but I… I just needed you so much today.”
Keith turned over so he was face down on the pillow to try and hide the face he was crying.
———————————–

The next morning Keith could hear Lance making breakfast while he was preparing himself for the confrontation.
Right now there was no doubt in Keith’s mind that Lance was cheating on him. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Keith stormed in on his boyfriend “who the hell were you calling last night?!” He demanded.
Lance jumped up when the door was slammed open “n-no one Keith I swear!” He smiled but looked guilty.


“On come on I heard you’ ‘hey it’s Lance again’ didn’t sound like no one!” Keith snapped grabbing Lance by the collar.
Lance didn’t say anything, his eyes darting to his phone laying on the couch. 
Keith dropped him picking it up, keeping his glare fixed on Lance as he redialled.
The phone rang twice before a woman’s voice came from the other side.


“Suicide hotline.”
Keith stared numbly at Lance as tears began to fall down his tanned cheeks. He hung up and tossed the phone aside.
“I… I didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I-”
Lance was cut off by Keith running at him and wrapping his arms around Lance like he could keep him there by pure will power.
“Oh God Lance. I’m so sorry I love you I love you so much! I’m sorry I didn’t realise! I’m sorry I thought the worse!” Keith sobbed as Lance wrapped his arms around the shorter man.
The two sank to the floor on their knees hugging and crying with each other.
“I won’t call them again, just please don’t leave me.” Lance muttered burying his face into Keith’s soft hair just taking a moment to breath in his scent.
Keith looked up at him cupping his cheeks with his hand as he kissed him on the nose.
“I will never leave you. So please don’t leave me. If you need to call them then you fucking call them as long as you tell me as well. Because I love you Lance and I can’t live without you.”
Lance sniffed “I love you too.”
———————————–
Of course that didn’t solve everything.
Lance still tried to hide how he really felt at times.
But he had a stable and loving relationship that helped make the bad days not seem so dark.
Keith was his rock and as long as he was there he may just be able to carry on.
For him.

Ace

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Genre: Fluff, smut, angst / athlete!jungkook, artist!jungkook
Word count: 24,263

Summary: Jungkook only cares about three things: Baseball, painting and his team, but soon he’s adding you to that list when love comes flying at him fast and hard, knocking him right on his ass. 

A/N: …. listen…. idk how 24k happened, but it did. I can’t stand looking at this any longer lol so please forgive any minor mistakes.
Big shout out to @taechulo for helping me out with the plot for this bad boy & @jacksonsjams for being such a wonderful beta reader 💕

It could have been his imagination, but Jin swears he feels the slightest tickle of rain on his face, so he reaches out his hand, palm upturned, to confirm his suspicions.

“Hmm.” He narrows his eyes at his dry hand, then glowers up at the overcast sky and heaves an irritated sigh. The weather forecast had lied. Again. This was the second time this week that, instead of sunshine and high temperatures, they were instead given downpour and gloom. Well, it wasn’t pouring yet, but Jin wasn’t about to get his hopes up.

“Alright boys, let’s pick up the pace. I want to get in at least some practicing before it starts to rain,” Jin calls over to his team, all stretching their limbs and grumbling a collective ‘Yes coach.’ They all look as miserable as Jin assumes they feel and just the tiniest part of him feels almost sorry for making them practice. Almost. The team needs to kick their practicing into high gear if they want to be ready in time for the new season and that meant no slacking, so Jin shakes off the slight guilt with ease.

He instructs half the team to do interval throwing – a partner drill where they throw the ball back and forth - while the other half of the team does base running.

Three rows down, doing the interval drill, Jungkook nurses a wicked headache and catches the ball that comes whizzing at him from the opposite end. He throws it back and Jimin catches it in his glove easily, yawning tiredly and putting little effort into his next throw.

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Title: Hard to Handle
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 3,425
Warnings: None
Notes: Can y’all tell that I’m on a massive “best friends turned lovers” kick? // Request from anon for “4. “I think i’m in love with you, and that terrifies me.” 75. “I want you to fight for me!” and 76. “Please don’t go.” from the prompt list for steve harrington with a side of extra large angst please 💗💗 (and if u only do a certain # of prompts then u can choose from those three :))” – (I couldn’t find a way to include number 75, so that’s why it got left out.) ♥

gif made by @v-writings

The first semester of college is always the most difficult, for an innumerable amount of reasons. Not only is it nerve-wracking to be thrust into an entirely unfamiliar situation such as college, but it is a momentous change in one’s personal life. They’re away from their family, they’ve now got to balance difficult coursework with attempting to have a social life, they’ve got to attempt to develop a social life in this new environment – there are a thousand and one things that change in someone’s life when they go to college. And any fragment of familiarity is held onto as if it were the most valuable thing in the world. Whether it be the blanket they brought that still smells like home, or a photo of their family setting on the nightstand, any sense of home is cherished.

For Steve, it wasn’t some treasured memento from home – it was you.

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A Dangerous Game (Suho Mafia!au fic) Chapter 13 - Babe?

Warnings: None

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12Ch. 13, Ch. 14Ch. 15(M), Ch. 16Ch. 17(M)Ch. 18Ch. 19, Ch. 20, Ch. 21, Ch. 22, Bonus Chapter  


“Well…there’s good news and bad news…which would you like first?” Yixing questioned.

“Um…I guess the…bad news….” I replied.

“Come with me…” he said leading me down the long hallways of the clinic before stopping in front of a door, “Bad news is that his heart stopped last night-”

“You promised you would call if something happen!” I snapped.

“Calm down, Y/N…” he said, “He is okay…I didn’t call because I didn’t want you flying about of bed for something that was already taken care of. If it had happened again I would have gotten you down here…but it only happened once. Now would you like the good news or are you going to yell at me some more?”

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would that make you stay?

pairing: john laurens x reader

prompt: laurens keeps bringing home girls and the roommate reader gets fed up and plans to move out but john confesses something first

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 1741 lol

a/n: two fics in a night LETS GO big thanks to my love @imdedicatingeverydaytoyou for being my sounding board (also bc she loves john) okay ily goodnight xo



“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You huffed on the phone. It was the third night in a row that John asked you to leave so he could bring a girl home. Mind you, it was three in the morning.

“Please, Y/N!”

“I hope you get an STD.” You sighed, climbing out of bed and ending the phone call.

You were John’s roommate. Both of you were working, but not enough to pay the bills. After knowing him (and maybe liking him) since fifth grade, it seemed only normal for the two of you to move in together. Still, when you agreed to sharing an apartment, you figured you’d be allowed to sleep in it once and a while.

John wouldn’t deny that he didn’t feel at least a little guilt for continuously waking you up to have emotionless sex. After the night before, he had promised not to do it again.

Then he got fired.

It was something about budget cuts that he knew was bullshit, but he still went out to the bar that night. And he still woke you up.

You used the key Eliza had given you a few months before to get into her apartment next door, slouching down on the couch. She was tired of waking up when John needed a quick fuck and you needed a quick escape route.

Even then, you couldn’t sleep listening to the mindless moans through the paper thin walls. Twice you almost rapped your fist on the wall to get them to shut up.

John wasn’t always this inconsiderate. Really. It mostly started senior year. He had the biggest crush on you, but when he tried to ask you to prom, Taylor Jacobs beat him to it. Even then, he thought he could make it work with you. He tried to make you jealous at first, sleeping around with a few girls when he went to college. It wasn’t working though. You had started seeing some guy named Chad and obviously weren’t interested in him, right?

Wrong. You had wanted John to ask you to junior prom, let alone senior prom. When Taylor asked you, you felt bad. Besides, if John hadn’t asked you then, he probably wasn’t even planning on asking you in the first place. Still, your heart broke when Taylor forced his tongue down your throat and the only person you wanted to cry to was off screwing Miranda Lysol. It only got worse from there.


The following morning, after being sure that the girl had left, you walked back into your apartment. You nearly slipped on a stray jacket that John must’ve thrown in the chaos. You rolled your eyes.

You couldn’t help but be a little pissed that he had woken you up again last night. You weren’t sleeping much lately and he knew that. Your mind was elsewhere as you reached for the cup, it slipping through your grasp and smashing onto the floor.

“Shit!” You shouted, jumping back. John came rushing in, immediately nervous.

“Are you okay?!” He was panicking.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m fine. I just - I just dropped a glass.”

He bent down the second you did, causing your foreheads to hit.

“Dammit, John! Just -“ you instantly felt bad. His eyes were sad and you couldn’t help but feel awful for snapping. “I’ve got it. Go get ready for work or whatever.“

All feelings of guilt faded the second his jaw clenched at your words and he stood up.

“Fine. Do it yourself.” He huffed, walked towards his bedroom.

You outwardly sighed; fighting was exhausting and it was merely seven in the morning. Why was it that lately, your fighting seemed around the clock?

Before the late nights, it wasn’t like this. The two of you always moved seamlessly with one another. But the longer he stayed out, the more girls he brought home, the worse the two of you got.

John came back out a few minutes later to see you putting the last of the shattered glass in the waste basket. He tried to shove down the pang of guilt he felt as he watched you work alone.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“For what?” You snapped slightly. Part of you was angry with him, the other half of you just wanted to curl up next to him and ignore what was going on.

You ignored the cuddly side of you and gritted your teeth together. He opened his mouth to speak, but you had been pushed far enough.

“For waking me up? For being an ass?”

“Listen, I had a bad day too -“

“For making everything about yourself?”

“God, Y/N, don’t be so petty.”

“Excuse me?” Now you were pissed; all thoughts of forgiveness set aside for the moment. “I’m petty, yet I let you bring home countless girls without even considering myself!”

“Oh, you martyr.” He mocked, crossing his arms. You were pissed. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he not see how rude he was being?

You stood with your mouth agape, throwing up your hands in surrender, walking towards your bedroom.

“Good, walk away. Wouldn’t be the first time -“ he snapped.

Your head turned so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, “You’re fucking with me, right? You’ve got to be fucking with me because there is no way in hell that you would actually be this much of an asshole at,” you glanced at your watch, “7:08 in the morning.”

He shrugged, “Sorry that I want to have fun once in a while.”

“No,” you snapped, “Once is a while is not what you’re doing.”

He scoffed, “Just because you haven’t gotten laid in a while -“

“Really, Laurens? You are bringing my sex life into this?”

“What sex life?”

You stopped. He instantly regretted saying it, immediately trying to apologize. You held up your hand to stop him, closing your eyes only to feel burning tears fall.

“I’m moving out.”


A week later, you were moving the last box to your car when you noticed a frame at the top. Inside it was a picture of you and John from high school. You had just started to get over your awkward phase and John was growing his curls out. You smiled at the photo, a little embarrassed that you still had it.

“That was one of my favorite photos,” John said, startling you.

He scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, looking back down at the photo.

“You really don’t have to go,” John said softly.

You shook your head, “I’ll be pissed at myself if I don’t.”

“I’ll be pissed at myself if you do,” he retorted.

You sighed a little. If you left, you were risking your friendship. If you stayed, you were risking your patience. Then again, you never really had much of the latter.

“I fucked up.” He said finally, making you raise your eyebrows. He had started to pace a little.

“I should have never brought home any of those girls, I really shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have come home so late every night, I should’ve listened more, I -“ he continued to ramble.

“John,” you tried.

“I’m sorry.” He said finally. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when he looked at you.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing you could say that would make me stay, okay? I’m leaving because I don’t want to lose you.”

“But,” he squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to keep his tears in, “But what if by leaving I’m losing you?”

“John,” you started.

“If you’re going to leave, I need you to know that those girls meant nothing to me, okay? Those girls -“ he was pacing again, “Those girls were nothing more than for me to fill my heart because God,” he ran his hands through his hair, “Because the one girl that I’ve been longing for since middle school has never looked at me the way I look at her.”

Your brows furrowed at this and he looked at you, eyes wet and glossy.

“What if I told you that I’ve been in love with you since the seventh grade. Would that make you stay? Or would I be pushing you further out the door?” Your breathing was shallow.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He said, his eyes locked to yours. Your heart broke a little before he continued, “I shouldn’t have said that because you probably think I’m toying with you. You probably think that I’m just trying to get you to stay, but honestly I just can’t imagine you leaving.”

You stood up, never taking your eyes off his.

“Because if you leave, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

You’re entire being was fighting itself. Part of you wanted to grab his face and kiss the hell out of him. Part of you wanted to knee him in the balls.

“Please say something.”

You took in a sharp breath, “If you loved me, why would you bring those girls into our flat? If you loved me, why wouldn’t you fight for me? If you loved me, why wouldn’t you tell me before I’m about to walk out that damn door.” Your words were steady, but your voice was getting louder.

“When you love someone, you fight for them. You don’t fuck them over for the hell of it,” you said.

Angry tears were hot on your cheeks, “When you love someone, you tell them, dammit!” You were shaking. John had never looked so broken.

John took a step closer to you, “If I told you, you might’ve left.”

“So why now?” You said. Your words were sharp.

“I’ve got nothing to lose,” he paused, “except for you.”

Within an instant, his mouth was on yours, searing kisses pressing to your lips. John had his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him. He held you tightly, scared to death that he might actually lose you.

When the two of you parted, your lips were red and swollen. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up to him.

“I’m not going any where,” you said.

Chapter 23 (Behind the Walls)

Behind the Walls Masterlist

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 1429

Warnings: None. Language!

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your advisor recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: Aaaand they’re back! I surprised myself writing this tonight tbh.Also, I’m really sorry this is the shittiest chapter/part I’ve ever written but something tells me if I get the writer’s block out of the way in this chapter then it’ll get better.  Let me know if you want to be tagged HERE.

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53. Fisting

Well Prepared

Word Count: 796  
Written by: @sexylibrarian1
Warnings: FISTING, bodily fluids, light smut

Originally posted by thedesire

“Bucky? Do you wanna try again?”

You saw his jaw tic, before he rolled over and stroked your hair. “Baby… I hurt you last time.“ 

“Only a little! And it wasn’t like you did it on purpose.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

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anonymous asked:

You said you met Michael Lee Brown twice, how cool! Details?

Yes!! I did meet him!! He’s just….incredible. Like… Okay, here are the details. LONG BUT FULFILLING STORY TIME!!!

SO! I first met him when I saw the show in January. It was his first performance in the show on Broadway and he was filling in for Will Roland as Jared Kleinman (and he was RIDICULOUSLY AMAZING). After the show, I stagedoored. There were only about twenty other people–I mean it was literally a single row deep around those little fences–who waited out for the cast (again, I’ll remind y’all that this was in January. Before the cast album. Before the Tonys. Before any major press, really) so it was pretty barren and the entire cast–except for Rachel Bay Jones, who had to leave early to help her daughter with something, we were told–came out and actually had the time and space to have in-depth conversations and take pictures with everyone out there. I’M STILL FKING YELLING ABOUT THIS YALL AND IM NEVER GONNA STOP but I’m trying to keep it together deep breaths. 

So! Michael Lee Brown came out and we all applauded for him (he had also gotten a special round of applause after the show ended because he deserved it) and he was just so sweet and humble. I got a picture with him (which I printed out and is currently hanging up in my room because it’s SO COOL KEEP IT TOGETHER) and talked a little bit. Mainly I just rambled on and on about how much I loved the musical while trying not to cry again and he thanked me about four hundred times (!!!!!!!!). BUT THEN! but then.

I went back home and completely fell in love with the show, back when there was only one fic for it one AO3, which I wrote, and the DEH tag on Tumblr was comprised of 3 posts. And I wrote him a letter, which said thank you about four hundred times as well, and sent him a little picture that I drew. 

Then, I was incredibly lucky enough to see the show again in April (how???? that’s a whole different story and I don’t think I have the time or space here I’m still). And during intermission, I don’t know if they do this anymore, but Michael and Colton Ryan were hanging out in the audience; I think they were watching the show too. And I saw them and freaked the fck out and was just like That’s Them That’s Them That’s Them, because at this point I was beyond into this show and it was all so much more intimidating.

And I wasn’t going to bother them, because I was really really nervous about being annoying, like maybe they didn’t want to talk to anyone or whatever. Honestly, they blended in completely with the audience and no one else seemed to notice them. BUT THEN! This one girl, wearing a DEH t-shirt, came up to Colton and very very politely asked for his autograph. He smiled and agreed and signed her Playbill and started to talk to her, like, oh, have you seen the show before, what do you think etc. etc. etc.

So, I figured, that if she could do it, so could I, anxiety be damned!!!! ANXIETY BE DAMNED!!! So, I thought, I’ll just do the exact same thing she did and not be annoying because if I didn’t I would regret it forever and ever and ever and ever. SO! I went up to him and was like, “Hey, how are you?” And he looked at me for about 10 seconds and then said, “Were you here in January?” and I swear my heart stopped. Like??? He recognized me??? I’M STILL YELLING I AM BEYOND BLESS HIS HEART AND SOUL And I replied that, yes, I did go to that show, and that he was completely amazing as Jared in every single way. And he thanked me and asked what my name was. I gave it to him, and then he said, “Did you send me a letter?”

AND I DID! AND HE TALKED ABOUT THE LITTLE DRAWING TOO!!! HE SAID!!! “That was the first fan letter I’ve ever gotten, thank you!” And HUGGED ME??? he hugged me. I’ve been hugged by the one and only MLB and I’m still yelling! ?! I swear to God, Michael Lee Brown is such a good and incredible person, he is so kind and talented and wonderful in every way, and I still feel so beyond blessed. Like? AH

Then the bells rung, signaling that intermission was over, and I went back to my seat and… there’s my story of the two times I met the stunning, stunning person that is known as Michael Lee Brown (AHHHHHHH!!!!)

Try again

Request: Lovely to see you back gorgeous! OK, I want to do the prompt thing. I’ve been trying to not think too hard. :| I’m going to give you things to use however you like, with Dean. In the same story as Dean, I mean. A haha. A pen; cobalt blue; January; and someone has to say “Lower”. Obscure as fuck, I know. Well, buh-byeee *skips away*

Word count: 3284

This was supposed to be a short little thing, but I think I got a bit carried away. Anyway, enjoy. And I’d love it if you told me what you think of it. Just keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. Also: a little warning for arguing and fighting.


Dean frowned. He hadn’t seen or heard from you since January – when he so ungraciously told you to get lost. He didn’t know why he’d – yeah, he did, and it drove him mad. Everything would be easier that way. At least that was what he’d convinced himself, but now he knew better. It was pain – pure, excruciating agony, being away from you like that, but once he’d realised what an idiot he’d been, you were nowhere to be found.

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badboy!taehyung; video games

kissing in the blue dark, playing pool and wild darts
for the lovely @sugababay

[lana del rey insp. drabbles]

If there was a time where you knew bad ideas had a central where all of them come to place, it would be here between the palms of yours next to Taehyung where it held every single horrible decision made possible. Not only did tomorrow was a day where it was mortifyingly important to the both of you with tests and assessments due that same fucking day but here you are, allowing him to pull you out of your dorm and into the streets where the telltales of where he’s taking you comes to life.

Down an alley because it’s a shortcut, across the street where it’s dark because I swear to God and on your life and ass, Kim Taehyung if we get caught - and his smooth transition of no we won’t with that stupid box smile when he opens the door to push you in with him following closely behind. At first you don’t process where it is but when the familiar music and just… the feeling and ambience wallows you in to the moment, there’s a crooked smile on your face that reflects the look of adoration in Taehyung’s eyes when he knows you know.

“This was where we met,” You say, in a voice that rings into his ears the first time you said his name. He only chuckles and nods in approval, tugging you towards a pool table where he too, has vivid memories of situating you there to show off his skills in being able to pocket pool balls in less than five minutes but the only approving skill you can be the judge in is his kisses.

“Does this remind you of anything?” He smirks, tapping on the velvety green surface that only makes you cringe because you two weren’t alone, yet he kissed you with you on it like you were

“Did we come here to walk down memory lane or play some pool?” You’re already grabbing onto a stick, which Taehyung snatches and hands you one that you’re more used to (with a kiss, because only then it’s perfect), “Maybe a bit of both,”

Both comes in a form of beating Taehyung twice in a row and him claiming he let you because it’s the gentlemen-y thing to do. In your eyes, it’s bullshit that if you suck, just say you suck and Taehyung comes with the truth of okay fine, I suck, let’s play darts. 

Darts comes and goes like the memories the two of you throw at one another. At 17, you remember how his eyes looked at you for the first time and at 20, it’s still the same. At 18, he tells you how much he loves you and at 19, he doesn’t change. At 16, you ask him if he ever knew what love was and when he hits 17 again, he kisses the reason why he believed in it.

Hands come by your cheeks when he steals the words you’re about to say: you’re such a cheeseball but only left hanging at the tip of your tongue when Taehyung’s doing so much more than just. When he pulls back with the blue light looming over the pair of you like it’s the first time all over again, you see your smile in Taehyung’s eyes as to how he sees his in yours and if someone asked you to explain what love is to you now, this would be it.

Taehyung would say the same.

Title: Past The Point Of No Return

Pairing: Marinette/ Adrien

Syn: For reasons yet unknown to him, Adrien has made a promise to Marinette that he cannot keep. At this point, he realizes, it’s go big or go home.


Adrien’s breath was frozen in his lungs.

Dear god, what had he done.

Hello?”

“Nino?”

Adrien, what’s up?

“I’ve got. A problem.”

Spill it, man.”

His mouth tightened into a straight line; his hands began to clam up.

“So, you know Marinette?”

Nino laughed. “Uh, yeah? The girl who sits right behind us in class? The one I used to have a crush on? The one I’m pretty sure you-

“Okay, shut up, I get it. Now. Alright. She texted me, just now.”

Nice!”

“No.” Adrien’s voice was quite shrill, a sharp contrast from its usual relaxed quality. “Not nice, at all. Dude, she asked me if I knew Swedish, and I said yeah.”

You know Swedish?”

“No.”

Then why the hell did you tell her you do?

I don’t know!! And now she wants me to tutor her, and I have no idea what to do!”

And you called me because….

“Because I’m freaking out, man! Save me!”

You’re beyond saving, dude. Sorry.”

“Well- wait. Do you happen to…”

No. I don’t know Swedish. Try again, dude.”

“Damn.” He stared at his hands, brow furrowed in thought, but for the life of him, he couldn’t come up with anything useful. He wasn’t getting out of this one. Damn, indeed.

Well….”

His head snapped up. “Well?”

You could always just make out with her. I’m sure she’d forget all about her lessons, then.

Red flushed throughout his skin, from his ears to his neck.

“Funny,” he droned, face ablaze. “Real funny.”

I’m just saying, man. You’ve clearly got it bad for her. And you’re not a bad-looking guy, Mr. Model.”

“I don’t have a thing for her. Would you quit it with that?”

Okay, bro,” his best friend replied dubiously. “De Nile isn’t just a river in Egypt.”

“I’m hanging up, now.”

Aw, come on, Adrien, that was fu-”

He hung up, his face falling into his pillow in exasperation.

“I’m doomed,” he groaned.

“Looks like it!” called Plagg from somewhere in the room.

“Not helping.”

The Kwami grinned. “I try.”


And so, with no way out of his own condemnation, Adrien went over to Marinette’s house the next afternoon, a cloud hanging over his head like the blade of a Cringe Guillotine. He knocked on the door as his bodyguard drove away, stomach lurching. No one to protect him, this time.

Marinette answered, and he nearly fell backward with the jolt seeing her brought, though he had been sitting just in front of her not hours before.

“….hey,” she greeted, her voice a little strange.

“Hey, there,” he returned, looking away. Say it, he shouted to himself. Just tell her the truth!

“You want to come in?” She took a stumble of a step backward to clear the way for him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said.

Oh my god, just tell her!

“Um-” he stammered. “Marinette, I kind of-”

“Sorry for bothering you to come over today,” she sighed, starting up the stairs. Hesitantly, he followed. “I’ve just missed a good chunk of school, recently, and now we’ve got this huge test coming up, worth more than half of our grade. It might as well be a final exam.”

“….wow.” That didn’t help. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled dismissively and opened the door to her room. “It’s my own fault. Been out sick a lot.”

“I….get that, too,” he lied. Again with the lying. But, in his defense, it just so happened to be his cover for missing school when he was out patrolling.

“Really?” Her eyebrows raised, and for a moment, his was irrationally terrified that she would somehow know he was lying.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, trying to keep his voice from cracking with nerves.

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Well….I guess no-” Oh, god. His voice had cracked. He felt his ears burn, and tried not to notice Marinette biting her lip in restraint.

“Would you like some water?” she asked, after she had composed herself. “I should’ve asked earlier.”

Oh, thank god. A moment alone would be nice. “Yes, please,” he answered. “And you’re good; don’t worry.”

“Be right back.”

As she exited back down the stairs, Adrien plopped down into her desk chair, covering his face with one hand.

“Oh, my god,” he exhaled. “I’m an idiot.”

“And a liar,” Plagg added from his pocket.

“Keep your mouth shut. I’m- I’m working on it.”

“Well, kiddo, your deadline’s coming up pretty soon. I’d give it less than five minutes. Got a game plan?”

“I’ll….I’ll come up with something.”

“How about the truth?”

“If I can get myself to speak, then sure. I’m trying, anyway. In the meantime-”

The door opened. Marinette entered with two glasses of water, set them down on her desk, and pulled a stool to sit beside him.

“Were you on the phone just now?” she asked.

Without meaning to, his mouth curled up. He quickly relaxed it, hoping she hadn’t noticed. “Uh, yeah,” he told her. “My dad.”

Adrien!!! Stop lying!!!

“Oh, geez. You’re not in trouble for coming over, are you?”

Oh, boy, am I.

“No, no,” he assured her. “Not at all. He was just checking in. Making sure I was where I was supposed to be.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad.”

“Uh-huh.”

Awkward silence. Adrien took a long, long drink of his water, practically emptying it in one go. Marinette followed soon after.

“Wow,” she noted. “I guess we’re both pretty thirsty.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Should I just grab us a whole pitcher?”

He noticed, with a wave of slight relief, that it seemed as though she were as reluctant to start their tutoring as he was. He nodded, and she was gone again, just like that.

“Wow,” Plagg laughed, “you’ve made it this far. Maybe you can just keep asking for more water until you have to go home.”

“You’re not funny,” Adrien grumbled. “I’m gonna tell her. When she gets back. I swear, I’m going to tell her. I don’t want to lie to her.”

“Cause you like her?”

“Yeah, ‘cause- wait, no, Plagg, because she’s my friend and always honest with me, and she deserves the same from my end.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Just shut up. I can’t tell her my dad called twice in a row; she’ll get worried.”

“Well, then, you could say you have to go home!”

“But….” Well, he couldn’t argue with that.

“What, do you not want to go home?”

Adrien was quiet. Marinette opened the door, once more, with a pitcher and tray.

“Okay,” she said, “water problem’s solved.” She took a seat, once more, placing the glasses on the tray and putting the tray beside them. “Now….”

Adrien’s mouth curled once more as he looked away. He was definitely in trouble.

Marinette cleared her throat. “We should. Get to work. I’ve only got a week, after all.”

“Right. Uh, get a notebook or something. It might be helpful.”

“Of course. Silly me.” She reached down and grabbed her back, pulling onto her lap to look through it. Adrien watched her, his mind racing.

Okay, man, now or never. Now or never. Do something or come out with it.

She pulled out her notebook and pen.

Do something!! Now!!

He rushed forward.

Marinette stumbled off of her stool, dropping the pen.

Okay, so we’re doing this. Okay.

Instead of telling Marinette the truth, or doing anything within that range of reason, Adrien had, on impulse, opted to kiss her.

And he continued to kiss her, because something warm began to spread in his hands and throat. Marinette kissed him back. The situation began to shift, entirely.

Oh, my god, we’re doing this. Pull away, now, man, you’re in too deep.

Adrien craned himself to reach her more easily, and then took her by the waist and guided her to his chair, where she rested one knee. She held his head in her hands, tangling her fingers into his hair.

Adrien!!!! Abort mission, abort, abort!!!

He breathed in her scent, inhaling sunshine and pastries, and tasted her breath. His hands slipped into her hair, the silky strands of raven gliding across his knuckles, and he enjoyed the entire sensation of her all too much. He couldn’t stop himself.

ADRIEN!!!!

Oh, shut the hell up.

They broke away for a moment to breathe, Marinette resting her forehead on his. She opened her mouth, beginning to form words, but before any could escape her, Adrien moved forward once more, hands on her hips to keep her from falling. He then, for some reason, thought it would be a wonderful idea to lift her onto her desk- likely following the same train of logic he’d had when he’d initiated the kiss in the first place. Marinette, startled, held onto his neck as he rose.

And then, when he moved forward, they crashed into the full goddamn pitcher of water, which caused Marinette to jump and fall forward, toppling over Adrien, just in time for the pitcher to hit her on the back.

Adrien stared at the ceiling, his mouth more curled and straight than it had ever been.

They lay there for a moment, hearts pounding, faces burning, legs freezing, breath absent, in shock and bewilderment. Marinette didn’t bother raising her face from his chest.

Well, you’ve done it now, Adrien. Bravo.

Please, shut up.

And then his phone rang. Really and actually.

Marinette picked herself up, blinking. “You get that,” she told him. “I’ll go get some towels.”

She left. Plagg, soaking wet and shivering, flew out of Adrien’s pocket as he checked the caller I.D. Natalie.

“Okay, you’re paying for this, lover boy-”

“Hush.” He started the call. “Hello?”

“Adrien, your curfew’s in thirty minutes. Where have you been?”

“Uhhh…..” Lying, repeatedly asking for water, and then making out with a girl to stall time. Mostly. “Tutoring a friend.”

“Well, wrap it up. Your father won’t be happy if you’re home late, again. I’ve already sent the limo.”

“….Right. I’ll be out as soon as it gets here. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at home. Good-bye.”

“Bye.”

Marinette returned, her arms full. “Was that your dad, again?” she asked.

“His secretary, actually. She says I should get home, soon.”

“Oh.” She set down the towels onto her bed. “Well, you can head off now, if you need to.”

Adrien rose, not meeting her eyes. “No, I can’t just leave you to clean up my mess.”

Our mess, if anything.” She smiled ruefully. “It’d be fine. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

In spite of himself, Adrien chuckled, grabbing a towel.

“Pretty sure I’m already past the point of no return,” he laughed, wiping down her desk. “Might as well clean up at least some of the aftermath.”

“Let me help,” she insisted, covering the floor. “I had a hand in it.”

“An unwilling accomplice isn’t really an accomplice,” he argued.

“And yet here I am,” she retorted. That brought an incredulous grin from him. She pretended not to see him as he glanced at her in disbelief.

“Touche.”

Loud honking from outside. Adrien’s phone buzzed.

“Looks like that’s me,” he sighed. “Can I do anything else to help, before I go?”

“You should just go. I’m mostly done, here. Thanks for the help.”

He shook his head. “I…don’t think I was much help, actually. Sorry.”

She found the courage to meet his eyes and smile. “It’s not your fault,” she told him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

Another honk.

She winked at him, the expression stopping his heart for a moment.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Text me later, alright?”

“Right.” He smiled back. “Thanks, for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

And with that, he hurried down the stairs and out the door. Natalie was not going to be happy with him.


Thankfully, he made it home before his father. Natalie had only a few stern words for him, but she was otherwise dismissive of the whole affair. Adrien retreated to his room in utter relief.

He was about to crash onto his bed and fall into some much-needed sleep when his phone began to ring, again. With a sigh, he answered Nino’s call.

“Yeah?”

So, how’d your little rendezvous go? You tell her the truth, or what?

“…..No.”

Dude, what? So what did you do, learn Swedish in less than twenty-four hours?

“No.”

Did you even show up?

“Yeah.”

So what did you do?! How the hell did you get out of that one??

Adrien took a deep breath to brace himself for the reaction he knew was going to come out of this, sooner or later.

“I….made out with her.”

And, of course, Nino died of laughter. Of course.

You can’t be serious!!

“Dead serious, man.”

Ohhh, my god!!! So you finally admit you like her?

“…I’m tired.”

Oh, come on. Did she at least kiss you back?

“….yeah.”

Was it good?

“Yeah. Definitely.”

You guys gonna go steady now, or what?

“I have no idea, dude. Can I just get some rest?”

Okay, okay. Take your time. Just know you’re going to have to face her tomorrow. So, have fun with that.”

“Bye, Nino.”

Later, Romeo.”

The last thing he heard before hanging up was, of course, the guffaws of his best friend.

Anyway, Nino’s near-offensive ridicule aside, he had one last thing to do before going to sleep, he’d realized. He switched apps on his phone, Plagg leaving his pocket for his cheese box below the bed.

“You’d better get me some good stuff next time you go shopping,” he said, his face full. “In return for your behavior, today.”

“Fine, Plagg, whatever.”

Marinette. The name read from his contact list in clear, inevitable letters.

“Texting your girlfriend?” Plagg asked, a giggle in his voice.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“And you’re not Chat Noir.”

“Oh, shut up, will you?”

The last thing he’d sent her was a photo of their homework, weeks ago. He opened their chat.

“Gonna tell her the truth?”

He didn’t answer.

Him: hey, marinette.

Her: oh, hey! that was fast. what’s up?

Him: I gotta tell you something

Her: what’s that?

Him: I….don’t really know Swedish.

Her: …I know.

“What???!”

Him: what?????

Her: it was kinda obvious, when you kissed me. that’s why you did it, right?

Him:…yeah. sorry.

Her: it’s totally fine. I just don’t get why you would lie to me about that, of all things. it’s so silly.

Him: I’m sorry. I just wanted to be helpful.

Her: you’re already plenty helpful. just by being you.

Him: and sorry I kissed you, and spilled water on us, and everything

Her: don’t worry about any of it. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.

Him:.….right. see you at school.

And, closing his phone and lying on his side, Adrien knew immediately that he would get absolutely no sleep that night.

“You wanna admit it now?” 

“Oh, shut up,” he said for the nth time that day. Nevertheless, he knew Plagg was right.

He was, without a doubt, past the point of no return, now.


AN: And back home, Marinette is internally, externally, eternally screaming.

This one’s a little more fluffy. I just can’t get over Adrien being an awkward dork around Mari. Like, of course he’s in love with Ladybug, but, come on?? He so obviously has a crush on Marinette, too, and it’s so cute to see. Silly, silly boy in De Nile. Also, R.I.P. in piece Nino.

hope you guys enjoyed this! Feel free to reblog and reply, if you want to.

@miraculousfluffmonth A submission thing? Not entirely sure how this works.

Saudade: Ch8


To be completely honest, it had surprised you that Brendon never called again. Since you were with Josh at the café, he hadn’t even shot you a single text. Although you were partially glad, because yes, you had promised yourself that you would finally clear him from your head, another part of you was worried. What if something was wrong? What if something had happened to him? What if he was angry at you for some reason? You shouldn’t have really cared that much in the first place, but you did. So that’s why you decided to pull up to his house that day, no warning, no impure intentions in mind, and no other reason than to simply just check up on him, as a friend. When you knocked on the door, Brendon opened it up, a surprised look on his face. He looked like he had just gotten up out of bed, disheveled hair, wrinkled gray shirt, tight black jeans, and socks. Bogart and Penny were already racing towards the door and pawing at your legs excitedly, but Brendon looked pretty shocked. “Wow,” he gave a soft laugh, drinking in your presence. You didn’t mean to be over or under dressed, but after seeing Brendon, it was pretty obvious you were the more composed one of the two. You had your hair done up nicely with a casual blouse and a skirt, along with heels, which you wore purely for the fact that it made you feel confident and fancy. “You finally came around.”

“Finally?” you raised an eyebrow. “You never gave another text or call.”

“I thought you were busy,” he shrugged, opening the door further and letting you in. “You could’ve texted or called too, you know.”

“What are you up to?” you wondered, glancing at the living room. There was an open beer bottle, a paused video game on the television screen, and a half eaten bag of chips on the table.

“Taking a break from the studio,” he explained, letting you sit down beside him. “I just finished a new song and thought I deserved a day off. I was just playing a little bit of Outlast, settling down with a beer, grabbing a snack, usual shit. Uh, you want one?”

“A beer?” you questioned.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Take the edge off things.”

“What edge?” you inquired.

“I don’t know, you look a bit tense,” he pointed out. “Or maybe you’re just anxious to see me.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “Sure I’ll take a beer.”

“Knew you would,” he winked, getting up and heading to the kitchen. Bogart hopped up on the couch and settled in your lap, and you pet him softly, looking around and remembering everything that was Brendon’s house. The Sinatra painting, the way the sunlight filtered through the windows, the pool out in the backyard, the elegant yet laid back atmosphere. When Brendon came back with the beer he handed it to you and let you take a sip before easing into the couch, Bogart hopping off your lap and prancing towards the kitchen. Brendon cleared his throat. “So how’d the trip go?”

“Trip?” you wondered.

“To go see your boyfriend,” he reminded. “Josh, you know?”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” you snapped back to reality. “It was good.”

“How was the show?” he asked.

“Amazing,” you sighed. “Fuck it was like a party. Those two boys, they’re really talented. It’s great. I had a blast.”

“You should come to one of my shows sometime,” Brendon nudged. “I think you’d like it.”

“Why? Do you run around in a hamster ball too?” you joked.

“Nah, but I can do a pretty mean backflip,” he shrugged, taking a gulp of his beer.

“What? Now you’re trying to compete with Josh?” you eyed him strangely. “Come on, we all know that’s his thing.”

“Nah, pretty sure I’ve been doing it longer,” Brendon argued.

“Uh huh,” you drew out slowly.

“I was doing backflips in music videos before Josh was even dropped his first album,” he narrowed his eyes. “You know I’m right, y/n.”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed. “Well what else does your show have to offer?”

“Just come and see it for yourself,” he insisted.

“You’re not even on tour,” you pointed out.

“Well duh,” he chuckled. “But when I am. You should come to a show. Bring Josh even.”

“Yeah?” you wondered, surprised.

“Definitely,” Brendon nodded. “I can get you guys tickets. It would be a good time.”

“Okay,” you gave a small smile. “I’d like that.”

“So anyways,” he steered the conversation back to the original question he had in mind. “Did you have any fun with Josh?”

“Fun?” you raised your eyebrows. “You might need to elaborate on that.”

“Come on,” he narrowed his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t,” you decided played dumb, nonchalantly taking a sip of your beer.

“Did you get any action?” he smiled slyly. “I mean, being away from each other that long, I’m sure you did.”

“Depends what you define as action,” you shrugged.

“Why are you playing innocent all of a sudden?” Brendon sighed. “Come on, I know how truly dirty and naughty you can be. Just tell me, baby.”

“Why do you want to know?” you retorted. “Why is it so important?”

“Because I want to make sure he’s treating you right,” he responded.

You blinked twice. “What?” That definitely wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“I don’t doubt that he is, but I need to make sure,” Brendon insisted. “Did he fuck you right?”

“W-well we didn’t technically fuck,” you admitted, looking down at your heels.

“What?” he inquired.

“I mean, I uh, I don’t know,” your voice grew soft. “No, I guess by definition, we didn’t fuck.” You took a deep breath. “Look, it’s weird to talk about it like this.”

“It shouldn’t be,” he argued.

“Fine, if you want to know so bad, I gave him a blowjob and then we got interrupted and he ignored me, okay?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And then later he fingered me in the bathroom.”

“Woah, wait. He ignored you? After you just sucked him off like that?” Brendon looked a bit hurt.

“Shut up, it’s over now,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” he insisted. “He’s your boyfriend. He’s supposed to take care of you. You give him a blowjob, he’s supposed to eat you out for hours, make you cum three times in a row, make you feel pure bliss. Not shove you in a bathroom a couple hours later and finger you for a minute or two. Jesus Christ.”

“Why do you even care?” you challenged.

“Because,” Brendon sighed, setting down his beer and leaning in close to you. “I think he’s taking your gorgeous body for granted.”

“Yeah?” you wondered, raising an eyebrow and moving in even closer, lips barely touching his. “Why? What would you do if I was yours?”

“Kiss you,” he murmured, closing his eyes slowly before opening them up again to look right into yours. “Over and over again.”

“What else?” you whispered, your hands reaching up to cup his face.

“Fuck you right,” he added. “Make you feel so amazing.”

“Then show me,” you barely breathed before his lips landed on yours and you were kissing, your hands snaking underneath his shirt and pulling it up in handfuls and over his head, tossing it to the side. His hands moved to your chest to squeeze your breasts gently before unbuttoning your blouse, opening that up and sliding it down your arms before carefully laying you down on the couch and kissing your mouth, your neck, your chest. He was kissing down your stomach when he glanced up at you and chuckled softly.

“Miss me?” he smirked.

“Would you think for a second that I didn’t?” you shot back a naughty smile, and he looped his thumbs underneath your skirt, him pressing his lips to kiss right below your naval softly before tugging down your skirt and exposing your underwear. He slid them down your legs and helped you wiggle out of your heels, then set them on the coffee table before attacking you with kisses again. His lips traveled down your body before reaching in between your legs, him positioning your thighs around his head before delving his tongue into your folds, making you moan his name and tug at his hair. “Fuck Brendon that feels so amazing.”

“Mmm say my name like that babygirl,” he instructed. “God you taste so sweet.” His tongue swirled inside you, making your stomach do flips, your thighs tightening around his head, your head tilted back and mouth open, spilling out praises and curses and moans and sighs until you came.

“Oh holy fuck, daddy,” you moaned aloud as you orgasmed and he instantly froze. You gasped for air, then felt yourself tense at the realization. Brendon lifted his head from between your thighs, licking your juices off from his lips, then staring at you directly.

“What did you call me?” he asked deliberately slowly.

“I-I’m sorry I d-didn’t mean to, it just came out, I s-swear that- ” you began to stammer out but Brendon only climbed back up your body, his face leaning in close to yours.

“What did you call me?” he repeated, this time twice as slow. Your body was shaking and trembling at his words, the way his fingers curled around your shoulders, his intimidating eyes were piercing your gaze.

“Nothing,” you lied, eyes shying away from his and looking towards the side.

“Something,” he used one of his hands to tilt your chin up so you had to look him in the eyes. “Say it again.”

“What? Are you just trying to humiliate me?” you spat, annoyed.

“I heard what I heard,” Brendon argued, tightening his grip on your chin. “Now call me daddy again or else you’re going to get some punishments, sweetheart.”

“Why what are you going to do?” you gave a sly smile. You hesitated a moment before adding on what he had been dying to hear you say again. “Daddy?”

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes and drew his lip between his teeth. “I love that.”

“Do you now?” you wondered innocently, running your hands down his chest.

“God, do you call Josh that?” he asked, eyeing you curiously.

“No,” you shook your head, blushing. “I’ve never done that before, it just kind of happened.”

“Well don’t you stop,” Brendon smirked. “Because I fucking love it.”

“Yeah?” you prodded.

“Yeah, but just for me,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you again and this time your hands slipped down to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He pulled out a condom from his back pocket and tore it open before you tugged the fabric down his legs and he kicked them off, letting you remove his boxers and let his erection spring free, handing you the condom and letting you roll it over his length, your hands stroking him softly before lining him up with your entrance, both of your ragged breaths the only noise within the moment of anticipation. When he sunk into you, you moaned loudly, your fingers clawing into his back, nails scratching his skin and head tilting up to gasp as he filled you up to the hilt. “God, I missed this beautiful tight little cunt so much. You feel fucking amazing, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whined. “I want you to fuck me rough, daddy. Just how I like it.”

“Mmm that’s right, beg for it babygirl,” he insisted, refusing to move until you continued your pleads. You bucked your hips up but he took his hand and forcefully pushed it back into place, eyes glaring at you with warning to do as told.

“Goddammit, I need it,” you complained. “Please, I want to feel you move in and out of me. Fuck me hard and fast. I miss the way you would fuck me senseless until I was sore the next morning.”

A moment of silence passed as he finally came to the realization. “Josh doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” Brendon smirked, starting to thrust in and out of you slowly. “What a shame.” You shook your head and he just chuckled softly, quickening up the pace and making moans spill out of your mouth. “That’s right, tell me how much you love my cock.”

“Fuck it feels so good, daddy,” you gasped, clinging onto his body as he thrust in and out.

“Cum for me baby,” he insisted. “Let me feel that gorgeous pussy of yours.”

“Holy fuck,” you gasped as your walls clenched around his cock, your body shaking as he came as well, drowning you in bliss, both of you riding out your orgasms. When he pulled out he kissed your lips before getting up, sliding off the condom and walking to the kitchen before coming back, laying back down beside you and wrapping you in his arms so that you were laying on top of him, your arms wrapped around his neck. Several moments of silence passed before he decided to finally talk.

“So uh, if I asked a question, could you answer it truthfully for me, y/n?” Brendon wondered.

“Yeah of course,” you sighed, snuggling up closer towards him and laying your head in the crook of his neck.

A second of quietness settled in the air before he decided to state the question. “Who fucks you better?” he asked casually. “Me or Josh?”

You swallowed uncomfortably, biting down on your lower lip. It was obvious, he shouldn’t even be asking this question. “You,” you barely whispered.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes, smug smile on his face displaying his satisfaction with your response. “I was just wondering.”

Catching Murphy, Part 10

Warnings: Swearing, possible nsfw content
Word Count: 7609 (seriously stop letting me write this ish)
Summary: You, Miss (y/n) (y/l/n), had a crush on Connor Murphy for years, from a distance of course. You had always been too shy to approach him, and the fact around school that he was an aggressive stoner caused you to become even more shy. One day, in history class, your teacher decided to assign a project and assigned everyone a partner—you and Connor were partnered together. Could you two grow close during the project and remain close? Or will Connor go back to ignoring you after the project comes to a close?
A/N: I apologize if Connor is a biiiiit OOC… ;-; Obviously takes place in an AU where Connor is alive.
Oh hey look it’s my masterlist, tah-dah
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 11
TAGS: @saturdayschilddrivesmewild  @defenestrate-yourself-please  @hamilton-canyouimagine  @arsonboirich  @sunshinesips  @philyylester  @cozykleinman  @jaredstrashcan  @glowingsaphaelruby  @saphael
also, I swear to gods I’m working on the requests that I have, I just had ideas for where this was going to go and needed to get them down. Ya know what I’m saying??


You woke up in Kayley’s parents’ bed, and you looked down to notice your shirt and only your shirt was missing. “What fucking happened…” you groaned and held your head as it started pounding. “Riiiight, I got smashed for the first time last night…”

“Could you shut the fuck up, (y/n)?” came a familiar groggy male’s voice. “Go back to sleep. Let me fucking sleep, please God,” he said.

Looking over to your left, you saw Connor. He was, just like yourself, shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Without thinking, you scooted closer to him and reached out to touch him. The moment your hand touched his chest, you hummed at the warmth. “You’re hot, Con,” you said softly, pressing your lips to his collarbone.

Connor hummed and pulled you closer to his warm body, and you couldn’t decide whether it was instinctual or planned. “Yeah, I know. I’m hot for you, if you can’t fucking tell,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A giggle left your throat as you said, “Oh yeah? That’s sweet, Con. I’m hot for your jerky ass, too.” There was no joking connotation added to your voice at that moment. This was you essentially telling Connor you were crushing on him.

“You know I was saying that as a fucking joke, right?” Connor questioned.

He brought you out of your little bubble of literal meaning that you had just been in. You felt yourself heat up; you were still kind of drunk and damn it, you just kind of let your feelings for him slip out. Well fuck me with a gently chainsaw… don’t panic, (y/n), you can play it off, you thought to yourself as you mentally kicked yourself. With a nervous chuckle, you said, “Y-yeah, of course I know you were joking, Con! S-sorry, I said some, some, something stupid because I got so, so… umm… so drunk last night and I’m st-still kinda drunk…” Plus, who would ever have the hots for me? you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue.

Another chuckle bubbled from Connor as he said, stroking your hair, “You’re fucking adorable, dork. Your shy stuttering shit makes me fucking smile for some reason.”

“Aww, th-thanks, Con. I can’t help it sometimes. My, my, my stutter and st-stammer act up when I’m emb-b-barassed,” you spoke softly. Yes, you felt kind of self-conscious about your stuttering and stammering, but at times there was nothing you could do to stop it. And it did only happen around guys you weren’t familiar with and when you were really embarrassed.

Connor brought a hand up to your burning cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead. You noticed the he was really kissy at that moment and neither of you really knew why. Maybe it was because you both were still kind of drunk. “Yeah, I’ve noticed, dork. Though, that begs the question: why the fuck didn’t you stutter and stammer last night when I made you cum?” he asked with a smug voice and you could just hear the equally as smug grin.

You were sure your face just turned beet-red at the mention of what happened in Kayley’s kitchen. “C-connor! Don’t, don’t, don’t remind me! I, I, I was d-drunk! My b-brain was fuzzy! I’m, I’m, I’m sure if you did that now I would be a s-st-stuttering and stammering mess!! UGH!! W-why’d you remind me,” you sputtered, covering your face.

“Because, I can’t let you forget your first fucking orgasm,” he smiled. “And I was the lucky bastard who brought you to it. Let me fucking revel in that feeling. Don’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy it either, dammit, (y/n).”

“You only made me cum for the first time because you were angry with me and Jared,” you spoke, your stammering and stuttering virtually gone. “And you did that as a means to stake a claim on me. I guess…? F-fuck… seriously, if you did that again now I would stutter and stammer myself to death, Con! I, I, I can’t stop thinking a-about it… ugh, en-end me!”

Connor tilted your head up with your chin and looked into your eyes. His stare was intense, making you want to shrink even more. You wanted to bury your face into his bare chest, but his strong hold on your face kept you from diverging your attention away from him. “I could do it again, (y/n). Right here, right fucking now. And I could watch you fall apart all over again… fuck, just like last night. Hell, I’ll remember it in crisper detail, too,” he spoke, completely serious as his gaze never left your own.

You gulped, knowing he totally would. “I, I, I… umm, wouldn’t feel right if you g-g-got me off twice in a row, C-Con…” you muttered in a small voice.

“I mean, I’m not entirely opposed to being the first lucky fucker who you give your first blowjob too, either. Hell, wanna make it three for three and let me take your actual virginity while we’re at it?” Connor asked with an amused smirk as he pulled your face closer to his.

Another gulp and you answered, “N-n-no. I would much rather keep my virginity for a while longer, Con. At least until we get to, uhh, get to know each other better. Because I, I can’t just give my virginity to a one night stand… I know it may seem dumb or pointless but… I want to lose it to someone who it means something to, ya know?”

Connor’s breath washed over your lips as he chuckled a low, “But you’re saying that once we get to know each other more, you’ll let me fuck you? Wow, what does that say about your crush since seventh grade? That you’d fuck me instead of trying to fuck him first?”

If only you knew that you were my crush, Connor Murphy, you thought to yourself. You bit your lip and chewed on it for a few brief moments before you muttered, “Actually, you’d be surprised, Con.”

“Oh, would I now? Fucking try me, dork,” he said, still looking intensely into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but gulp a third time, his stare was just too intense for you to act casual. “I, I, I’d much rather not try ya, Con… you, umm… well, you…” you trailed off, unconsciously beginning to twirl some of your messy (h/c) locks around your index finger. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as your brain scanned itself for words to say. Before you could think of anything else to say, Connor pulled your lips to his gently but firmly. This kiss was different than the angry and drunken one from the night prior; it was also different from the ones shared in the past several days, too. This kiss was slow-roasting, passionate and almost loving?

Whoa, whoa, whoa! You thought, instinctively beginning to kiss back, Is Connor Murphy, my fucking crush since 7th grade, kissing me like he possibly may love me?! Or, or, or am I just reading too much into the kiss? Cuz, like, he is still kinda drunk, like me, right? So, so maybe this underlying sense of love is fake or something? You were panicking internally as you tried to come up with reasons why that tiny underlying hint of love was present in the kiss.

Sensing your body become tense, Connor caressed your face as he continued to kiss you with this passion and hint of love that came from seemingly nowhere, to you. His lips moved slowly, methodically, like he had calculated when to pour his then molten passion into the intense exchange. As another means of getting your body to relax, his other hand decided to roam your body. It moved up over your clothed hip, brushed lightly against the searing flesh of your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake; continuing on its trek and swept across your bra-covered chest, where it lingered. Connor pawed as the swell of one of your breasts for a few, lingering moments. The hand that was still on your face had tilted your head back slightly farther so that he could deepen the heated kiss. Or at least try to.

Your body had relaxed and a sigh left your body, shortly after your body relaxed Connor’s left hand moved from your chest to your back. As if by instinct, your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled your body up against his—now your chest was pressed against his and the kiss was growing in intensity. Shivers shot through your body as Connor trailed his hand down your spine to the clasp of your bra, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip and trying to pry its way into your mouth.

Eventually, Connor started to bit your lower lip, trying to coax you into opening that mouth of yours for him. But of course, you didn’t give into him that easily, as you were still feeling quite mischievous from the alcohol. Even as Connor unclasped your bra and slightly pushed your body from his so that he could peel it off, you didn’t give in. He felt the mischievous smile the corners of your lips curled into and heard the low giggle that rumbled through your body. However, now that your bra was removed, Connor decided it was time to amp it up. So, with that in his mind, he returned his hand to your breast.

His lips also curled into a devilish smile as he started to play with your left breast. The long-haired teen heard the moan that tore through your body as he tweaked your nipple, and he hummed almost appreciatively at your wholehearted reaction. Unfortunately, he had to pull away from the heated exchange of saliva to breathe; the moment his lips left your own a breathless cross between a gasp and moan emitted from you. “You still not gonna fucking give into me, dork?” he asked into the skin of your cheek.

You shook your head, unable to speak at the moment. Truthfully, your mind was shot and unable to form sentences. The only fragments of thought going through your head were questions about what had just happened. Vaguely, at the back of your mind, you did want to help Connor out, knowing that if he was feeling just the slightest bit of what you were he was dying. “C-Con…” you muttered. “Stop, Connor,” you said a bit louder and with force.

Immediately, Connor stopped everything. He stopped peppering your cheek and jawline with kisses, he stopped groping your chest, stopped caressing your face. Everything stopped. Connor pulled away and looked at you. “What? Fuck, did I do something wrong, (y/n)? Shit, I pushed it, didn’t I? God, I’m a fucking screw-up! You just woke the fuck up and here I am forcing myself onto you, goddammit. I’m sorry, I just… you looked so… goddamn… shit, I’ll leave you alone. Just… FUCK!” Connor exclaimed, a panicked look overtook his eyes and he pushed himself away from you.

You had never seen Connor Murphy panic like he was in that moment. Hell, you didn’t even know Connor, Mr. Cool Kid, could panic. He sat up and swung his legs over his side of the bed, combing his hands through his hair as he apologized for forcing you into that. He’s a softie, oh my yeesus, you thought to yourself with a gentle smile. Rolling your eyes, you let out a small sigh and crawl over to him. Coming to sit beside him, you said in a soft, gentle voice, placing a hand on his thigh, “Con, don’t panic. You didn’t force me into doing that, and I don’t want you thinking that. I wanted that, in all honesty. Look, umm… heh…” you trailed off in a nervous laugh as he looked at you, “…look, the r-r-reason I wanted you to, to, umm, to stop was so that I could, ya know… help you out like you helped me out. It’s only fair, right? And, and, and I may be really bad at it… since it’s like, my first time, so… be, umm, patient with me.”

Connor looked at you and blinked a few times. You were offering to get him off? Well, he had said that he wasn’t opposed to being the guy you gave your first blowjob to. And Connor wasn’t lying, but he found himself at a loss for words at your offer. “Umm…” was all he managed to strangle out.

He had never seen your face turn so red so quick as you stammered, “On, on, on, only if you w-w-want me to, C-Connor! I, I, I can’t force you to let me try and g-g-get you off!”

His lips curled into an uncharacteristically grateful smile as he said, “Fuck, if you’re offering to help me get off, who am I to refuse such an attractive dork like yourself?”

Those words got you to close your mouth and look at him with gaping, fish-like eyes. “…what…” you questioned in a very small voice. You looked at Connor, silently asking for confirmation that you had indeed heard what you just heard.

Instead of giving you an answer, Connor laid back down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. He watched your already reddened face grow even darker a shade of red as you hovered above his shirtless body. You had no clue what to do, you had never seen a man that wasn’t your family shirtless before, and you most certainly had never explored the male body before. Connor could see the hesitation and doubt in your eyes, and he also just realized that you two were in a place where this may not be the best time to do something like it. “I just fucking remembered that we’re at one of your best friends’ house, (y/n). After a night of partying and drinking. Kayley could bust in the door at any damn time and ruin this for you. Maybe we should fucking wait and do this later?”

Your eyes snapped to his and you knew he was right. “Y-yeah… we can do this later. Maybe tonight? I, I, I wanna learn how to please a guy… for, for my crush…” you said, laying down beside him.

“Yeah, for your crush,” he echoed.


About two hours passed, you and Connor’s slight buzz had died completely, and Kayley busted open the door, yelling, “HEY! WAKE THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK HOME!!!”

You groaned, holding your head. “Shut the fuck up, Kay. God, we were already fucking up.”

“Oops, sorry, bitch. It’s how I’ve been waking everyone up. Anyways, Hansen and Kleinman are waiting for you two at the door. Get dressed and get the fuck out of here,” she said.

You nodded, sitting up and looking for your clothes. “Okay, thanks Kayley,” you said.

Kayley smiled and closed the door, saying, “You’re welcome, cunt.”

“Well, isn’t she just a fucking joy?” Connor asked, grabbing his shirt and jacket before putting them back on. He pushed himself off of the bed and stood by the door. “I’m ready whenever the hell you are.”

“Okay, okay, just gimme a minute to put my bra back on. I loathe this thing,” you said, fiddling with your bra as you tried to get it on properly. It took you like a minute and a half for you to get it on and then you pushed yourself off the bed and looked for your shirt. You searched for several minutes to no avail. Scratching your head you asked out loud, “Where the fuck is my shirt?”

With a small chuckle, Connor said, “Try looking in the damn bathroom, (y/n). When we came here to crash last night you walked in there with it on and came out with it off. Hence, it’s probably still in there.”

Looking over your shoulder, you shot a smile at him as you muttered, “Ooh, thanks, Con.” You then walked to the master bedroom’s bathroom; the moment you opened the door, you saw your shirt laying on the ground. “Found it,” you called out as you bent over to grab it. Once the top was in your possession, you put it on and shuffled out of the bathroom.

Connor was looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed in amusement. “What?” you asked, “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he grinned and pointed to you, “you’re shirt’s inside-out and backwards.”

Your eyes glanced downwards and your face flushed in slight embarrassment. “Oops,” you said as you took it off and fixed it. When you had put it on for the second time, you asked, “There? Better?”

Another small chuckle, “Yeah, much better. Now let’s fucking blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

“Fuck yes, let’s go!” you exclaimed, punching the air as you walked over to him. “Wait,” you paused, patting yourself down, looking for something, “where’s my phone?!”

Connor rolled his eyes and pulled it out of his jacket, then handed it to you. “I took it so your drunk ass wouldn’t drunk-call anyone, particularly your mom,” he said. Turning, he opened the door and walked out. “Now come on, dork. Let’s go take these idiots home.”

“You’re still just jealous that I made out with Glasses,” you smirked as you followed behind him.

Stuffing his hands into his jeans’ pockets, Connor answered, “Not jealous, doll. I’m still angry that fucking geek took advantage of you while you were drunk to make out with you.”

The two of you reached the stairs and you scoffed, “Con, that’s so far from the truth. Yeah, I was getting tipsy at that point, but I wholeheartedly agreed to that bet. In fact, I think I said that I wanted to kiss and piss you off. Both of which I accomplished.” Connor looked over his shoulder, with a slight glare, as he descended the stairs in front of you. Following after him, you laughed, “Now all I need to do is make out with Ev and I’ve made out with the three amigos.”

Connor laughed softly, “Oh, now that I would actually pay to fucking see.”

“You’d pay to see me make out with Ev?” you giggled, “So, lemme get this straight: you’re perfectly fine with me kissing Evan, but the moment I think about kissing Glasses, you wanna stake a claim on me? What the fuck, Murphy?”

He shrugged as you two reached the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t even know why, Kleinman just fucking irritates me,” he said.

“Then how are you two best friends?” you asked, walking to the front door, where Evan and Jared were waiting for you.

Jared crossed his arms and said, “Well look who’s up and ready to go, Evan. It’s the love-birds.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the title. “Why the heck are you calling us that, Glasses?” you asked, stopping in front of him and Evan.

“Y-you really don’t remember, (y/n/n)?” Evan asked you.

Shaking your head, you answered, “No…? What happened last night? I only remember what happened in the kitchen, then some after that. I vaguely remember taking the rest of the Maker’s 46 and drinking it out of the bottle. And everything’s a blur after that. So, fill me in.”

Connor stopped beside you and huffed, “Guys, can we fucking leave already? You dumbasses can tell her in the truck.” He pushed by his two friends, opened the front door and walked out of Kayley’s house. Almost angrily, he walked in the direction of his truck. “Do you fucking morons want me to leave your sorry asses?! If not, then come the fuck on!!” Connor called from over his shoulder.

You huffed at his change in attitude. He went from mushy and soft, to still and angry. What crawled up his ass and died? He was so different just a few minutes ago, the hell? you thought. “Yes, please tell me in the truck,” you said, pushing Evan and Jared out of your best friend’s house.

The three of you practically ran to Connor’s truck because he had started it. Once you all were inside, and settled down, you said, “Okay. Now tell me what happened! Why did Glasses call Connor and I love-birds? I’m so confused.”

Clearing his throat, Jared began, “Alright. Here’s what happened, sexy.”

Jared set the scene. How he remembered what happened was beyond anyone, because he was blasted last night.



It had been maybe thirty minutes since Connor gave you your first orgasm in the kitchen, you had the Maker’s 46 bottle in your hand, half-way drunk. And you had drank it all by yourself, nobody else had wanted any (which meant that you were the only person who had been drinking it since you arrived at the party). At that point, it was maybe midnight (but nobody really knew what time it was because they were all mostly shit-faced drunk), and you and Connor were sitting on the couch. You were either on Connor’s lap or right beside him as you downed some Maker’s 46 and he was sipping on a cup of Scotch, feeling a bit drunk.

Jared was dancing drunkenly with about ten other teenagers, while Evan was sitting on the couch beside you and Connor—still quite sober. (Knowing how big Kayley’s living room was, you weren’t surprised when Jared said that’s where the dancing was happening.) Kayley’s phone was plugged into the stereo and she was playing some music. Of course, you can’t dance without music.

“Hey, Con,” you slurred drunkenly, leaning over on his shoulder.

Connor looked at you, cracking a smile. “Yeah, was is it, half-pint?” he asked.

You smiled stupidly as you slurred, “We should…” you trailed off and hiccuped, “…we should totally fucking date, Murphy!”

Evan heard what you said and your words caused both him and Connor to choke on their drinks. Evan was thrown into a coughing fit as he tried to breath. “WHAT?!” the anxious sweetheart exclaimed in surprise.

“I agree with Evan, what the fuck, dork? You’re drunk, so I know you don’t fucking mean it,” Connor said slowly. Your words had thrown him for a loop; while he did agree that maybe you two should date, despite only talking for two days, he wasn’t sure that making it official while you were blasted was a good idea. In fact, he didn’t even know if you liked him in the way he possibly liked you. It still boggled his mind that he could have grown to like someone in just two or three days of talking to them.

You put the bottle of liquor between your thighs as you leaned over to touch Connor’s clothed chest. “I may be drunk, Connor, b-but… I will definitely remember this when we wake up,” you cooed, “so, let’s date~!”

Connor grabbed your hand and took it off his chest. “No. You don’t mean what you’re saying, (y/n),” he said sternly.

“The fuck I don’t! Ever heard of…” you trailed off to think. After a good two solid minutes of staring at Connor’s hardened facial expressions, you continued, “…ever heard the saying ‘A drunk person’s words are a sober person’s thoughts’? T-therefore… I me-mean what I am saying right now…”

Evan piped in, “But, umm, (y/n)… you are m-more blackout drunk than regular drunk. You, you won’t remember this.”

That was when Jared stumbled over and sat beside Evan, having overheard what was going down. “Evan’s right, sexy. You’re passed being normal drunk, you’re fucking blackout drunk. Meaning you won’t remember a single thing after drinking half of that Maker’s 46,” he said, leaning his head back onto the couch.

Your eyebrows furrowed and an almost annoyed look flashed across your face. Taking a moment for your blackout drunk mind to process what was said, you smile an ear-to-ear smile. “So I can do and say anything and I won’t remember tomorrow?” you asked.

Jared shrugged, but nodded, “Yeah… you can. But most, if not all of the three of us will remember. Unless Murphy and I are drunk enough not to remember shit. Evan’ll probably forget after he gets his third drink, cuz…” Jared leaned over and looked into Evan’s almost empty cup, “…he almost needs more.”

“I do not, Jared,” said Evan.

“Too late,” the geek said, talking Evan’s red cup from his hands. Alexa just so happened to pass by at that moment and Jared grabbed her arm, making her stop. “Hey, Alexa, can you do Evan a favor and get him some more whiskey-coke combo?” he asked.

Alexa smiled at Jared, “Yeah, of course! I’ve sobered up a small bit.” She took Evan’s cup and before she walked off, Jared pulled her down so he could whisper something into her ear. When they pulled away from each other, Alexa’s smile turned devious as she said, “Got it, I’ll be right back with your drink, Evan.”

Evan whipped his head to look at Jared as he hissed, “What did you tell her?!”

A giggle escaped from Jared as he shrugged, “I dunno what you’re talking about, Evan.”

The banter between Evan and Jared continued, and an idea was brewing in your head. “I’m just gonna assume none of us are gonna remember this and tell me tomorrow,” you said quietly to yourself.

Connor heard you and raised an eyebrow. “What was that?” he questioned as watched you take another gulp of whiskey. With the bottle still in your hand, you arched your back as you pushed yourself off the couch; Connor’s eyes watching you in confusion. He watched, taking sips of his drink, as you swung your legs over him, straddling his lap. “The fuck are you doing, dork?” he asked as you two stared into each other’s eyes.

“I’ve something to admit to you, Connor,” you said, the hand not holding the neck of your whiskey bottle cupping his face. Immediately after you said that, Jared and Evan’s attention was focused on you and Connor. You shifted on Connor’s lap, causing his breath to hitch slightly. “Can I admit this to you?” you asked almost in a whisper, leaning in towards Connor.

The long, brown-haired teen reacted with a, “Fuck, I guess so. What is it, half-pint?”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I love you, Connor Murphy. You know the crush I’ve had since 7th fucking grade? Well… you’re him. I know you’ve always had a fuck-ton of issues… none of which are easy to deal with, and you come off as a complete fucking asshole to people. But… I developed a crush on your ass anyways! And, and, and…” a hiccup, “…I’ve been pining over you for six fucking years! W-wanting you to notice my existence, wanting you to like me back, wanting to help you with your problems since freshman year!” Your words petered out as you stared as his face. His eyes went wide and his mouth was slightly agape. You felt yourself smile a drunkenly sweet smile and caressed Connor’s cheek. That moment seemed to stretch on forever, but soon your brain spurred back to life and you continued, “So, I want to get high with you, drunk with you, all of these crazy things with you… but most importantly, I want to help you with your problems however I can. I just… I love you… so much it almost hurts…

Jared and Evan’s mouths dropped open. Your words were the most meaningful ones either of them had heard a blackout drunk person say. It was like, in that moment, that you weren’t blackout drunk—even though they knew you were still very much completely blackout. “Holy shit…” breathed out Jared, still unable to believe what you just said. Evan could only nod in agreement.

Connor just stared at you with wide eyes. Does she really fucking mean all that shit? (Y/n) loves… me? he thought. No way is she telling the truth, she’s blackout drunk for God’s sake! She doesn’t mean it! She’s just saying what I want to hear. But, she’s right: A drunk person’s words are a sober person’s thoughts… shit, do I believe her or not?! As his brain scrambled to dismiss what you said, he was unaware that you were pulling his face closer to yours.

It was only once your lips touched that Connor snapped out of his flabbergasted daze. Immediately, Connor’s hand took the bottle of Maker’s 46 from your hands as you two shared a sloppy kiss. He broke off the kiss and handed the bottle of whiskey to Jared. “Here, drink the rest of it, Kleinman,” he said.

“You ain’t gonna address the fact she just said she loved you, Murphy?” asked the geek as he took the bottle.

You looked at Connor, your drunk eyes swirling with the feeling of rejection. “Y-yes… n-n-no reaction to my con, con, confession?” you asked in a broken voice, as if you were about to cry.

Connor’s eyes snapped back to yours and he said, “Look… I’m still… fuck, how do I say this…? Well, I’m still trying to figure out what I’m feeling, okay? Just in the few days we’ve been talking, half-pint, you’ve interested me in a way I never thought someone could. I’ve… been acting different from how I was before we were partnered together. And goddammit, I’m not sure if I like how I’ve been acting. You’ve given me thoughts and feelings I never expected myself to have for another person; I was dead-set on being a fucking loner my whole life, because I’ve always been the freak in our school. Shit, I guess what I’m fucking trying to say is that… I probably have feelings for you, too, (y/n). I just don’t fully fucking know yet.”

“R-really?!” you exclaimed excitedly.

With a sigh, Connor nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t really planned on telling you until he was certain he felt something for you that went beyond a slight interest. But, you know, so much for that plan. The stoner hadn’t anticipated you getting blackout drunk and admitting your feelings to him, nor did he expect Jared to press him for an answer to your confession. “Y-yeah…” he said in an unusually small voice. “Anyways, I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, (y/n). I’m taking you to bed.”

An exasperated groan left your lips, “But Coooooonnor! I want to drink the rest of my whiskey!!” You went to tip back your bottle of whiskey and find it’s been stolen. “WHO STOLE MY DAMN WHISKEY?!” you shrieked.

“I took it when you were fucking kissing me and gave it Kleinman,” answered Connor. “Now, we’re going to bed and there’s nothing you can say to fucking stop me from doing it.”

You squirmed in his lap and lightly hit his chest, whining like a little kid, “No! You’re a fucking mean-ass, Con! I tell you I love you and you wanna put me to bed!!”

Connor rolled his eyes, drinking the rest of his Scotch and handing the empty cup to Evan. “Throw that shit away for me, okay? Thanks, Evan,” he said and watched Evan nod. Turning his gaze back towards you, Connor began to stand up, picking you up bridal-style as he went. “Time for fucking bed, princess,” he said and started walking towards the stairs.

As you two walked, Kayley and Alexa catcalled you, chanting how you were get it. “Get it, bitch! Get it, bitch!” you saw them mouth to you. You flipped them off as Connor carried you up the stairs, towards the master bedroom.



“…aaaaaaannnd that’s what happened. That’s why I called you love-birds,” Jared finished.

Your face had gone a ghostly pale and you were sure your breathing was erratic. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmyfuckinggod!!! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?! your panicking mind screamed. You were sure your heart had stopped beating. The moment Jared said you confessed to Connor, you were sure your heart stopped cold.

No words were able to come out of your throat because your throat had seemingly closed. You really didn’t remember any of those events. It was in that moment that you knew that you were panicking. Tears streamed from your eyes and you started to sniffle.

From behind you, you faintly heard Evan’s voice ask, “Hey? (Y/n/n)…? Are you okay?”

“I’m such a… f-f-f-fucking IDIOT!!” your voice finally tore through the lump in your throat. You turned your distorted vision towards Connor as you just sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Connor! You, you, you weren’t supposed to know!!! I should have known that someone as a-a-a-attractive as you wouldn’t have feelings for, for, for someone like me! I, I mean… l-l-look at me!! I’m a m-m-mess! I’m so un, un, uninteresting and inexperienced!! God! You probably think I’m some freak now for pining over your for six years!”

Everyone was surprised by your outburst. Had you not heard when Jared recounted the words Connor had said to you? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! (Y/n), did you not hear when I said that Connor told you he probably has feelings for you? He just has to figure them out,” sputtered Jared, trying to make you feel better.

“He was just saying that to make drunk me happy!! No way anyone would have feelings for me! I’m, I’m boring… and fat… and sexually inexperienced… and shit at school… and, and…” you sniffled, “…I’m a crappy person!”

Literally, Connor stopped the truck (having pulled to the side of the road, he wasn’t stupid enough to stop in the middle of the road). He calmly unbuckled himself, unlocked all the doors, got out of the truck and walked over to your door. Opening your door, Connor unbuckled you and pulled you out of the truck. His arms pulled you into a hug, which was uncharacteristic of him—to hug anyone out in public. “Listen, you’re none of those fucking things. Okay, so the only thing you are, of those five things, is sexually inexperienced. Half-pint, you’re not a shitty, fat, boring person… and you’re definitely not bad at school. Why would Mr. Boulden partner us up if we were both bad at fucking history? How about we drop these dumbasses off, then we can fucking do something, sound good?” Connor said, pulling away from the hug.

“You sound like a boyfriend trying to make his girlfriend feel better… or a best friend trying to cheer up their bestie,” you sniffled, wiping your sleeves across your face to absorb your tears. You couldn’t look Connor in the eyes, so your gaze was directed at his chest.

Not having you not looking at him, Connor grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the face. “I am trying to make you feel better, you fucking dork. You’re panicking internally right now, I know you are because that was me last fucking night—or early this fucking morning, whatever—when you confessed that I’ve been the crush. And my words still are true, I may have feelings for you, (y/n). Hell, I’m like ninety percent sure I do like you,” he said.

You scoffed, tears still sliding down your face, “Yeah right… The Connor Murphy having feelings for me, (y/n) (y/l/n)? Only in my dreams…”

Connor growled and let go of you. “Fine! Don’t fucking believe me, half-pint! But, FUCK, I know I feel something for you! Just get the fuck back in the truck and let’s fucking go,” he growled as he stomped back to his side of the truck and got back in.

Sighing to yourself, you got back in the truck and buckled yourself up. Great, I made him made at me. Why am I passive-aggressive like that when I am internally panicking? you thought as you sat there.


The rest of the car ride was silent, as you were still panicking because of the recent events. Unconsciously, you had been twirling a lock of hair around your right hand’s index finger and were chewing on your lower lip. Inside your mind, in the midst of all the panic, you wondered how to make Connor un-mad at you.

By that point, it was just you and Connor; Jared and Evan had been dropped off. Connor wasn’t entirely mad at you, though, he was slightly mad at himself. He didn’t know why he couldn’t figure out how he felt, but he thought it was possibly because of the suddenness of which the feelings developed. The long, brown-haired teen knew he wanted to cheer you up, because he knew what it was like to be in that much of a panic. He felt that kind of panic from everyday walking through your high school, because people regarded him as the freaky stoner.

Deciding to break the silence, he sighed, “Look… (y/n)… seriously, not just saying it, but I do think that I really fucking like you. Can you just trust me when I say that?”

“I do believe you, Con. I just… feel stupid for admitting that to you in the way I did. I was gonna tell you if we kept talking after the end of this history project and started dating. But… plans can change,” you sighed out.

He chuckled, “Don’t feel stupid, dork. Fuck, I’m really kinda happy you told me while drunk. Because you didn’t fucking hesitate. And I mean, yeah, we could date or we could stay friends with benefits until I figure shit out. But, like… shit, I don’t know.”

You looked over at Connor and giggled, “You know if we stopped whatever we have going on between us that Jared would be all over me in two seconds flat. I’m convinced that he could actually sweep me off my feet if he tried hard enough. And I think you’d neither like that nor want to see me crumble and moan breathlessly as he grabs me inappropriately in front of you to prove a point.”

“You’re goddamn right I wouldn’t like it! I would rip you away from that asshole and show him how to touch you right,” growled Connor.

The mood lightened up as you laughed, “So, I think it’s best if we stayed friends with benefits, Connor. We can just… forget that I drunkenly confessed to you, okay?” He nodded and you smiled. However, your brain trailed back to the underlying sense of love that came through in your kiss after you two woke up. “Wait, wait, wait,” you said, “I have a question, Con.”

“Yeah? What?” he answered.

“When we woke up, we got into a heated kiss, remember that?” you said. Connor nodded and you continued, “I felt the slightest hint of love in that kiss. I swear to you I did.”

Connor shrugged as he pulled up to your house. “I guess that fucking means that I might love you, doesn’t it?”

With a smile and a shrug of your shoulders, you answered, “Yeah, guess it does, Con.”

“It’s not gonna scare your ass off that I may love you only after a few days, will it?” Connor asked, looking over at you. He was genuinely asking you, not just joking around.

“No, it’s not, Con. If me confessing to you that I’ve been pining over you for six years didn’t scare you off, then you possibly loving me after only a few days won’t scare me off,” you answered sweetly. “I, uhh, I guess I should get out, huh?”

Connor locked the doors before you could open the door. “You don’t have to go, half-pint,” he said, smirking at you. “After all, I do recall you saying you wanted to try getting me off when we woke up. Or were you lying?”

You blushed as you remembered that you had said that. Not being one to back down either, you had to take responsibility for your words. “I never lie, Connor Murphy. Do you… wanna come inside? You’ve never been inside my house before,” you offered.

“Sure, why the fuck not?” Connor answered, grinning wolfishly as he turned off his truck. “What’s the excuse as to why the hell I’m coming in with you?” he questioned as he unlocked the doors.

Opening your door, you smiled, “That you’re here to work on the project…? Duh? What did you expect me to say? Did you think I was gonna be straight up and tell my parents that you’re here so I can give you a fucking blowjob so I won’t feel bad that you made me cum at Kayley’s house party?”

With a shrug, Connor got out of his truck, too. “Well, fuck you, then. I wasn’t going to say that,” he playfully growled at you.

“Wouldn’t you love to fuck me?” you teased, sticking your tongue out.

He chuckled, “No shit I would love to fuck you, dork. But, you’re so set on making it worth it, so I’ll just wait until you’re ready to give in to me. Y’know, your crush?”

Your cheeks heated up and you stomped off towards the front door. “Jackass!” you called out, embarrassed that he reminded you.

Running after you, Connor called, “I’m fucking sorry, you dork! I couldn’t help myself, honestly!”

You opened your front door and said, “Just fucking go inside.”

Stopping in front of you, Connor said, “No, you live here, you go in first, dork.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked into your house. “Mom! Dad! I’m home! I brought Connor over so we could finish this project, okay? We’ll be up in my room doing it!”

“Okay, thanks for letting us know. Did he pick you up from Alexa’s house?” your mom asked.

“Yes, mother. He did.” You ushered him upstairs to your room as you continued to talk back and forth to your mother. When he was in your room you called back, “Okay mom, I’m gonna close my door so we can focus, is that chill?”

You heard your mother laugh and call back, “Yes, honeybun, that’s fine.”

Smiling you closed your bedroom door, locking it. “My mom’s the fucking coolest,” you said.

Connor looked around your room. There were books on Ancient Egypt littering your bookshelf and some scattered on your floor. Your bedspread was galaxy and it had Connor smiling. “Like astronomy, too?” he asked.

“O-oh, yeah… kinda,” you answered, picking up some clothes that were strewn across your room. Throwing them into your hamper, you stood beside Connor at the side of your bed. Patting the sides of your legs, you continued, “I don’t know much about astronomy, to be honest. I just really like the colors and how they accent each other, you know? It’s just beautiful.”

“Yeah… space is both interesting and beautiful,” Connor said, smiling at your bed. “Just like you,” he spoke, looking over at you with a smirk.

You blushed and slapped his shoulder. “Shut up, Connor!” Connor chuckled as you slapped his shoulder against, much lighter this time. The two of you laughed and he playfully shoved you back. However, after a few moments, the playful nudging and the like stopped and the room fell silent. It was a pregnant and awkward silence; you didn’t know how to start this. “Umm…” you hummed out, biting your lips, “so, how do we, umm, how do we start this shit?”

“Why don’t we start it like when we woke up?” he suggest with a smirk.

You laughed, “Like both of us shirtless? Or, or, or do we work those off?”

Connor shrugged and said, “We can? If you fucking want to, dork. Or we could…” he trailed off, “eh, it’s all up to you.”

Nervously, you began chewing on your lip in thought. Where and how to start this? “I, I, I don’t know what I want to do. All I know is that I wanna do this for you. As, as, as like a means to thank you… y’know?” you stammered nervously, looking at Connor.

“Yeah, I know, half-pint. Fuck, I mean I guess we could just start off kissing and work our way up from there?” Connor looked back at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You looked at Connor’s blue-green eyes as they stared at your bed. “Sounds like a plan, Con,” you spoke, pushing him over to your bed. Connor was mildly surprised when you pushed him onto your bed and straddled him. “Ready to get started?” you asked with a grin.

“You think you could hold the fuck up for a hot minute, dork? I think I should lean against the head of your fucking bed, don’t you?” Connor asked.

“I guess you can…” you said as you watched Connor move so he was leaning against the head of your bed. You sat in the place where you two had been and you chuckled, “You ready?”

Connor looked into your (e/c) eyes and said with a nod, “Hell yeah I am. Come here, half-pint.”

You pressed your lips together at the new nickname. Sure, you had noticed it earlier but the more he used it, the more random it seemed. Before you did anything more, you had to ask. “Hey, Con?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’d the nickname half-pint come from?”

Connor scoffed and answered you, “From last night. And you’re like almost half my size.”

“That is false, Con! I am only a few inches shorter than you and shut up,” you laughed.

“Keep fucking telling yourself that, half-pint,” Connor said through a smirk.

What You’re Missing

prompt: 

genre: smut, angst (but only in the beginning)

warnings: swearing, drinking, rough sex, blowjobs and rimming for a bit, dirty talk for a bit too wow nice

word count: 3136 (damn)

a/n: wow two fics in a row wow go kyra you’re amazing. no but really, i think i’m doing good with the whole ‘a fic a day’ thing. here’s a massive thank you to holly for giving me inspiration and motivation and staying up with me to beta this fic. i honestly really love her <333 i hope you enjoy!! :)

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Stories (Namjoon x Reader)

Writer’s blocks are never fun.

fluff, 3.2k words, namjoon/reader, writer au


Your neighbor is a mess.

He only just moved into the vacant apartment across from you, and already he’s dropped two of his boxes and broke about half of his dishes.

“Um, excuse me?” you say carefully, stepping out of your room. “Do you, uh, need help?” You gesture to the great stacks and rows of boxes that line his doorway.

He turns and looks at you in surprise, and you swear to god his face is the cutest thing you’ve seen in a long while. “Wh-Oh, yeah, I mean, if you want, yeah,” he sputters. “That’d be uh, really great.” Awkwardly, he reaches up to scratch the back of his head, shooting a few glances towards the makeshift trashcan. It’s already half full with broken items.

You laugh and head over to one end of the stack, lifting up a cardboard box. “So where do you want me to put this?”

He looks over at you, and then points to the staircase. “You can leave it there, if you want. I’ll bring the box up later.”

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anonymous asked:

what are some of your other Jason head canons? Like domestic, ethnicity, or maybe even some nsfw ones??

Thanks for your ask, anon, but - oh boy - where do I start? There are so many things I’ve already mentioned at one point or another in one of my stories, and so many more that I have yet to write out… If you want something specific, please don’t be shy to ask.

But here, we go, some Arkham verse headcanons:

  • His favorite color is red.
  • He is actually a year younger than Tim, but god help you if you point that out to him.
  • Jason of my continuity is white. His parents were Willis and Catherine Todd, both white Americans.
  • His mom got pregnant by accident when she and Willis were just dating. The marriage was her idea (and mostly due to Jason).
  • Willis never stopped resenting Jason for it. Occasionally, Catherine was bitter about it, too, but at least she never got physically violent about it.
  • He cared for his mother for almost a year before she died, and seeing what drugs did to her turned him off ANY and all drugs for life. Jason hates painkillers and he hates needles with a passion.
  • Jason loves non-fiction books, especially technical stuff (he designed most of the militia gear, so he’s obviously got a knack for engineering).
  • Related to that, Jason got along wonderfully with Lucius Fox and the two of them regularly exchanged designs. The disruptor gun used in BAK is based on Jason’s designs.
  • Bruce had him home-schooled/tutored while he was Robin, to help him catch up on all the academic progress he lost. (Jason of my continuity was 8 when he started living on the streets.) The plan was to have him go to normal high school as soon as he had caught up, but Joker got in the way.
  • His worst school subject were languages. All of them. Mostly because language depends a lot on social interaction, and Jason didn’t exactly have the best track record with that at any point in his life.
  • Jason loves to cook. He’s also a bit of clean freak, mostly because he knows what it’s like not being able to afford proper food or proper hygiene.
  • He always keeps at least three sets of knives and lock picks on himself: one to find easily, one to find after a lot of searching, one so well hidden no one can get it.
  • He was arrested and charged three times as a kid, twice for theft, once for prostitution. He always managed to get away before they could ship him off to juvie jail.
  • He used to go for late night / early morning all you can eat sushi whenever he was patrolling with Batgirl and without Bruce.
  • He met up with Dick once a month to train, when he was Robin, but Dick quickly shifted it from pure training sessions to half training / half brotherly bonding and normal social interactions.
  • Jason doesn’t trust people in general and finds dealing with them exhausting. He’s more of an introvert.
  • As mentioned in an earlier ask, the Jason of my continuity was abused as a child. Specifically, he was 12 and he ran into the wrong people during a break-in gone bad. The second winter that followed was the time he was arrested for prostitution.
  • Batman took Jason to the manor without revealing his identity, but it didn’t matter much since Jason figured it out the next morning at breakfast.
  • Jason initially thought that Bruce expected him to pay for the entire rich kid and Robin deal in sexual favors. Creeped the fuck out of Bruce, and it took him months to actually come to trust him.
  • Jason hates thunder because it reminds him of gunshots (he likes guns, he just doesn’t like waking up to the sound like someone’s trying to shoot him in his sleep.)
  • Jason’s favorite perch in Gotham is Mercy Bridge, because it’s got watchful gargoyles on all sides and a nice view of everything - Lady of Gotham, Arkham Asylum, Wayne Manor, the three islands of Central Gotham, etc.
  • Jason has a distinct Park Row accent that he slowly got rid off during his time with Bruce, but that keeps on popping up when he’s angry. Lots of dangling participles, gutteral Rs, and double negatives.
  • He swears. A lot.
  • He is perfectly fluent in Spanish since he spent to so much time building his militia in South America.
  • He has at least one safe-house and two caches on each of Gotham’s islands.
  • His helmet has a self-destruct mechanism that is connected to his voice print and triggered by the phrase “I wish Joker was still alive.”
  • He changed the interface of his Robin cowl from blue to red first chance he got and it annoyed the hell out of Bruce.
  • He would frequently run from the manor if triggered, although those escapes became less frequent the longer he stayed there.
  • Jason always dials the thermostat up by two degrees, no matter how warm a room is to begin with.
  • And since it is Halloween: Jason loves Halloween, but since his parents could never afford proper deco, he used to swipe a pumpkin from a random neighbor each year. When he did that during his first year at the manor, Bruce scolded and grounded him. Alfred took him with him to the market for weekly grocery shopping, bought the biggest pumpkin they could find, and then proceeded to show him how to make pumpkin-everything out of the innards.
  • Alfred is Jason’s favorite person ever.
  • Edit: Also, Jason likes to keep all exits to the room within his sightlines when he sleeps, so the first thing he does when moving in somewhere new, is usually to reposition the bed.

Whew. Long list got long. Again, if you want to know something in particular, feel free to ask.

Harry x Reader

Set Up: Post break up Harry sabotaging your dates

Warnings: None

Gender: Neutral. Bisexual reader, btw.

A/N I swear I can write for more than just Harry, it’s just… all of the ideas I have really work for him, you know? Harribard is my favourite. We all know this. He will hopefully be next. Hopefully…

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A little drabble

Set after chapter 27

A little fantasy I’ve been obsessing about for the past month or so, so much that I had to write it down.

Be warned, as I rarely write and English is not my native language, some sentences and word choices are bound to be a little awkward (or downright incorrect). And the rules for the use of punctuation signs differ a lot between English and French, so I probably got it wrong somewhere too. And I can’t get my software’s spell check to work in English, so there are probably typos in there as well.

Also, the story itself is a bit corny and OOC. Actually, I got carried away by my own fic and didn’t know how to end it.

For all these reasons, I’m far from 100% satisfied with it. I keep amending it a little, in the hope that I can make it better.

I’ve been lurking around the Saezuru fandom for a year, and never participated in anything. I took and never gave, not even an anon post or an intake on anyone’s theory. So now, I’m contributing with something, however small or lacking (or corny or OOC). I hope you enjoy reading it!


Doumeki burst into the room.

Kageyama and Kuga sprang apart. Clearly, Kuga had been trying to seduce a relunctant Kageyama into having sex at the clinic, as he often did – sometimes successfully. At the unexpected intrusion, Kuga shouted an angry ‘Who the -?’ and seemed ready to throw a few punches. But when the identity of the intruder was revealed, his expression actually turned pleased.

'Doumeki!’

In a flash, he crossed the room to where Doumeki was frowning, looking lost and supremely oblivious to the two people in the room. His gaze swept the room twice before finally settling on them.

'Is Boss here?’ he asked with even more intensity than usual.

'What? Uh, no, haven’t seen him since yesterday.’ answered Kuga. 'Why, is playing hide and seek a new fantasy of his?’

The taller man ignored this as if he had not heard (indeed, he had not) and started to retreat, mumbling what sounded like a vague apology. Kuga, now very intrigued, grabed Doumeki’s arm, pulled him back into the room and threw him into a nearby chair, alarmed at the half-hearted way Doumeki was trying to fend him off. The more he watched him, the more he realised how dejected and anxious Doumeki was. He looked like an overgrown child who had just learned that his parents had abandoned him.

'What the hell’s wrong with you?’

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