#I am buzzed though I hesitate to say drunk

[catsnuggler]

Interrogator: You say you are an anarchist? Me: Yes. Yes, I am. I proudly, fervently, say, with conviction, that I am an anarchist. I oppose all centralized authority as tyrannical, be it fascist or liberal. Interrogator: And yet you would DIE - you would give YOUR life - for Aragorn, High King of Gondor? Me: *whimpers* You just don't UNDERSTAND. You just don't UNDERSTAND. Yes. YES! Yes, Gods... *cries*... "for all that you hold dear, I bid you: Stand, Men of the West!" *pulls sword out of my pant leg, which was somehow totally hidden, not forming any kind of outline in my pants*

[hannahssimblr]

I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find. 

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her. 

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.  

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too. 

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully. 

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.” 

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under. 

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[deja-yu]

Co-workers - Choi San Chapter 2/3

Genre: mostly fluff (😈)

2.2K

Read chapter 1 here - Synopsis: San quickly becomes your work bestie but neither of you want to end up as 'just friends'

Checking yourself in the mirror you feel nervousness bubbling under your skin, it’s not like you were really close with anyone else in the office besides San. Though only Ben was really bugging you the others weren’t really nice or welcoming. And with the way San’s face soured last night when you brought it up didn’t reassure you at all. Speaking of San, your phone lights up with his caller ID, “Hello~ I was wondering if I could use the knowledge of knowing where you live to pick you up? I am just getting my car”. 

-

“Was it true what Wooyoung said? About the karaoke incident?” he remains silent but sends you a glare. Laughing, you poke at his reddening cheeks, “Have a drink with me! Wooyoung said you get silly drunk and I’m bored”. Offended he rolls his eyes at you, “I don’t and I’m not drinking, I still need to drive us home”. It makes you laugh even more, continuing to tease him as the colour on his cheeks darkens. But he is smiling at your antics, finding that you yourself get a little silly drunk. The conversation between you two has been hushed, sitting next to each other at the quiet side of the table, quiet because everyone else was huddled together on the other end playing a variety of games. It had surprised you that San’s words were true, you had finished half your plate when most of your co-workers words started to become slurred. “Hi Y/N?” you look away from San to find Ben leaning in from the seat across. You yourself might be slightly too buzzed to deal with this. So the way your face drops gets entirely missed by you (and Ben) but San snorts, looking away and hiding behind his hand at the reaction you had. “What?” you had lost your ability to be nice to him a drink or two ago. “I… did you want to... I live nearby” he is so dumb, that’s all you can think about right now. Anger slowly bubbling over your pot of patience, how many times were you going to have to say no before he gets it. “Leave me alone” clenching your hands to somewhat remain civil. San’s hands come to rest on top of yours, “If you don’t stop this I will help them report you to HR”. This does the trick Ben finally gets up to go back to his original seat, not before looking slightly surprised and then annoyed. A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thanks, I think I was close to getting my point across by punching him” San laughs “I could tell, but HR is a big threat especially if you have someone backing up your claim” smiling you feel butterflies as he pats your hand one last time before pulling away. “You want me to take you home?” nodding he hands you your coat and you both say goodbye which goes mostly unnoticed. You hesitate a bit, not sure if this would be brought up Monday but San tugs you along “They won’t remember trust me”. Following him back to his car you feel the tension of the worries you had for this night slide away.

Thanking San when he opens the door for you, you let out a big sigh of relief San chuckles before he closes the door after you. Once he takes his seat his hand taps your knee, “Can I treat you to some ice cream before I drive you home?”. The way you perk up at the offer makes his heart stutter for a moment, trying to ignore it by gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. 

Shifting slightly in his seat, the ride became silent once you joined the drive-thru line. You were content with watching through the window but San wasn’t doing so well next to you, glancing over from the corner of his eyes every now and then. Wondering if he should strike up conversation again or let you daze out the window some more. He could tell you were still a tipsy. Advancing in line, he was the first to break the silence. Asking what kind of ice cream you wanted. “Oh uhm…” squinting slightly you wondered why they would make the lettering the absolute smallest size possible. Without thinking you lean closer, hand coming with you to rest on the console between the seats, too bad San has to drive forward slightly and the sign is now next to him. In the effort to adjust accordingly you don’t realise you're not hovering over the console till your hand comes down on his thigh. Like touching hot coal you shoot back into your seat, “vanilla” San chuckles and ends it with a scoff, “You didn’t even look, hurry up and decide before we have to move again” giving him a look you lean forward again, this time making sure you put your hand on the console. But this night wasn’t going in your favour because San was looking with you at your hand, both lifting your head at the same time and for a moment sharing a breath. But San is quick enough to continue moving his head to the menu, you however linger a moment so he clears his throat and nods towards the screen. Face flushing you try and read the words but all your brain is focussed on is San and the words seem foreign. A honk behind you makes you jump slightly and San sucks his teeth in annoyance to the impatient car. You regain enough focus to read ‘snowmans desert’ and pick that with a rushed breath. San does raise his eyebrow at you while you take your seat again but drives up to the order station. 

“You alright?” he questions while continuing to queue for the pick up window. “Yeah! I just.. Am getting a little tired, the drinks are wearing off… sorry” you still feel a little groggy but it wasn’t a lie you were tired, he didn’t have to know that the longer you two spend together alone the bigger your crush on him was getting. He watches you for a moment, clearly thinking of a reply but another honk from behind notifies you two to move forward in line. You giggle at the annoyance washing over his features as he mumbles under his breath. He doesn’t have time to say what was on his mind as the window slides open and he receives two ice creams. One being two scoops in a cup and the other a plastic snowman cup, you could barely see the ice cream through the sprinkles and you just stare at it for a moment as you keep it in your lap. San stays composed for about 1 minute as he pulls out of the drive-thru before he starts laughing, “You didn’t look did you?” stammering you confess that you indeed did not, he just laughs harder “It was stressful!!” trying to defend yourself but you can’t help but smile as well at the silliness of getting a kids menu cup. 

The ice cream itself was still good so you have no further complaints. It takes a moment before you notice San struggling to drive and scoop the ice cream from his lap. “You want me to help?” Hands already reaching for the spoon. How you could barely keep it together while leaning over 10 minutes ago to now casually grabbing the ice cream from his lap and holding out a spoonful for him was making San’s head spin. With some hesitation he opens his mouth so you can feed him, giggling as he leans in slightly while keeping his eyes on the road. “You don’t mind?” he questions with a quick peek your way, “I usually keep the food when i am in the passenger seat, it’s the first time i’m spoon feeding someone though” he shakes his head while chuckling, “Oh I actually spoon fed lil kids before so it’s like that”. He laughs louder this time “Are you calling me a child?” humming you feed him another spoonful “A really big one”. A chokes slightly before swallowing “You're still drunk right?” instead of answering you just hold up your hand leaving the tiniest amount of space between thumb and pointer. 

-

San stops in front of the building and you hesitate a moment before turning to him, “Are you up for a movie?” he chuckles, reminding you of what you said before about being tired. “I know but I will just be bored by myself and I want to do something fun this weekend that doesn’t involve work” “Do I not remind you of work?” teasingly you look him up and down, “If you change into something else than a freaking suit for once I can work with it” scoffing he looks down at his outfit “This is business casual, I don’t even have a tie on” staring at him with a blank expression he starts pouting and mumbles another defence. “Alright, well the car park is right there if you change your mind, I have some sweats that should fit you” getting out the car as he chokes on air trying to get you to wait. By the time you press the elevator door San is knocking on the lobby door behind you. You walk in front of the sensor and laugh at how he is panting slightly “You’re so mean! There were only spots all the way in the back” a small pout on his lips as he says it.  

-

“You have to ignore the mess” kicking off your shoes as you say it before walking into your home, San follows behind. “I’m sure I have some stuff that would fit you. Just take a seat and I will be right back. Or do you want to shower?” he is looking around and when his eyes meet yours they crinkle as he smiles, “If it’s alright? I smell like the restaurant”. 

You can’t help but laugh when 15 min later San appears in your living room with the oversized clothes you got during an old work trip. “I’ll be quick, you can grab a drink if you want from the fridge or I made some tea” You point to the two cups on the coffee table, one empty the other still steaming. 

A quick shower later and you're on the couch going through the movies available. “Oh I have been wanting to watch this!” finding a newly added horror movie, “Didn’t want to watch it alone” turning to San he is chuckling “I don’t know if me being here will be of any help” With a tilt of your head and concerned eyes you ask if he wants to watch something else. “No, we can watch it” , turning to press play you pretend you don’t hear his deep sigh, “You can hold my hand if you get scared” you tease him as you get comfortable. He scoffs, “If you couldn’t watch this movie alone then don’t act all brave now”. 

After 20 minutes neither of you is pretending to be brave as you both yelp and scream at the story unfolding on the TV. “Why did you want to watch this” San whines, you find him pouting and it makes you chuckle. Like you promised earlier you hold out your hand for him and you can see how he is moments away from slapping your hand away but a loud bang from the TV has you both jump. San grabbing your hand instead which makes you laugh out loud. “Alright I’ve had it” going for the remote you manage to snatch it away on time and hold it away from him. “You agreed so we are finishing it!” grabbing your hand again he starts tugging you close, playful glint in his eyes but you’re not one to back-down from a fight. Struggling to worm away as which causes him to try harder, grabbing at your legs to pull them onto the couch and effectively dragging you closer like that while you choke out laughs. “No!” you are both laughing as you continue to fight back, wiggling away slightly just for him to crawl over on top of you. Finally managing to grab the remote from your outstretched hand he looks down at you with a victorious smile. It is only now that both your laughs died down that you notice the position you’ve gotten in. You can see his adam’s apple bob as his eyes seemingly darken slightly. “I should get going” disappointment evident on your face as he moves back and gets off the couch (and you). “We can watch something else” he pauses for a moment, eyes going from the pout you’re giving him to your slightly disheveled hair. You feel bold and though you can’t blame the alcohol anymore you do say it anyway “We don’t have to watch”, you can hear him suck in a breath “I don’t want us to do something we will regret” silence follows his words you can only mutter out a soft oh. 

Taglist: @brown88

[glitchy-npc]

Double Dog Dare Ya

Series: Fallen Hero Pairing:@dogueteeth's Isa Becerra (they/them)/ Tegan Wells (he/him). Tegan's POV. Warnings: none. Word count: 569

It's late. 

The bars just closed, having kicked Isa and I out. Doesn’t mean we can’t loiter and have one last cigarette though.

It's comfortable.

A light buzz from the beer and nicotine both. This time of night there's hardly anyone else out. Feels more private, less curious eyes or too loud minds and that suits us both best. The quiet is fine, making fun of other drunk patrons via telepathic ping pong is even better. 

Burning our cigs down to the end feels like a farewell so I pull them into a one armed hug. The safe kind, still enough distance not to be weird.

“Night Teeg.” I fight hard not to roll my eyes, they’re still the only one who gets away with calling me that. A light squeeze and – and I swear I felt their lips brush my cheek.

“What was that?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

“What was what?” They sound too defensive for innocence and they’ve blocked me out of their head. Thats a tell and I’m fucking calling it. 

“You-” I can feel my face getting hotter even as I say it. “You kissed me.”

“I didn’t!” Isa folds their arms across their chest but their legs are positioned in the familiar stance from when we spar. Gearing for a fight? 

“Yes you did, I felt it.” I tap my cheek to emphasize my point.

“So what, I just got a little too close to you, you don’t have to make such a big deal out of it!”

“Oh so kissing someone isn’t a big deal?” Where am I even going with this? Do I just like pushing Isa’s buttons? 

“It’s not because it wasn’t even a kiss!” Even in the dim street lights I can see their face reddening.

“It sure felt like one!” 

“Why do you want me to have kissed you so bad!?” They throw up their arms as if physically throwing the accusation at me. 

“Because maybe I do.” Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

“...what?” They seem to deflate, all aggression drained out of their posture.

Fuck. Well…in for a penny… 

“Maybe I do want you to kiss me.”

And for a moment it feels like one of those westerns. Two sharpshooters staring each other down a dusty road, waiting for the other to make a move. No tumbleweeds here though. 

“Ok” Looks like Isa shot first. Good aim too, straight in the heart.

“Ok?” I try to keep my smile and racing pulse under control. 

Isa takes a step towards me, hesitant, unsure and for a minute I think they’ll back down.

“I mean unless you're too chick-'' I don’t even get the insult out before they grab the front of my jacket and pull me into them. The kiss lands awkwardly, too fast, too hard but it's easy to adjust to something more comfortable. No, not just comfortable, good. Kissing Isa feels good and I don’t want them to stop. 

By the time they pull away I’m slightly breathless, didn’t even have time to take a breath before they jumped me, and they’re still gripping my jacket. As if I’d go anywhere. 

“There, happy?” There's a nervous shake to their voice so I pull them into a hug, kissing their cheek to make us even.

“Very.” I feel drunk as they nuzzle into my shoulder and I know it has nothing to do with the beer.

[dulcie-hernandez]

Am I Making You Proud? || Self-Para

The peak of Dulcie's intoxication had seemed to pass and as she started to settle down, she found herself in great need of some fresh air, especially as more and more couples started to make out around her. She told Odessa she'd be right back and slipped out the back door of the club, grateful as the cool air hit her. Even more grateful when she found the back alley empty. The muffled sound of the music was comforting as she found a crate to sit on and slip off her heels for a moment. It was definitely one of the better pride events she had been to lately and though her month was sure to be full of them, she couldn't say she was exactly ecstatic about all of them. Most of the time they often made her think too much about her loneliness, about the lingering eagerness that came along with wanting to be in a relationship.

As she thought about it, her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her dress pocket, smiling to herself as she saw her sister's name and a text asking how her night was going. She wondered if her sister could feel it in the universe that she was having this melancholy moment with herself. She hesitated in texting her back, instead scrolling through her recent texts, smiling as she clicked on her family's group chat. A couple of days earlier her father had sent a rainbow emoji with a 'Happy Pride' message followed by a rainbow gif from her mother. Her sister had called them corny but had sent her own message, accompanied by the tik tok clip of someone saying 'be who you are for your pride.." it made her laugh all over again and before she could stop herself, she found tears coming to eyes.

There had been a time where she could have never fathomed this happening. Where the idea of admitting even to herself that she was gay felt like the most terrifying thing in the world. If her younger self could see her now...the thought brought on more tears and she set her phone in her lap as she brought her hands to her face. She knew she was drunk but she also knew that these were feelings she rarely let herself dwell on because most of the time it hurt. It hurt to think about all the time she spent keeping quiet, watching from the sidelines and she supposed in some ways she still felt the same.

But things weren't the same. She wasn't that same scared teenager, longing for her best friends affection or attention. She wasn't hiding in that closet, so sure that God would hate her, that she'd be the biggest disappointment to her parents. She had fallen in love, gotten her heartbroken, in fact tonight she had already run into two of her exes. One who she was still on great terms with and whose partner she loved and another who she had avoided. A full lesbian experience depending on who you asked. She had made out with women she had never seen again, danced and laughed and learned so much about herself. Her confidence had grown tremendously and though her pickup lines were somewhat cheesy and she hadn't been in a relationship in over two years, when she really thought about it - she was happy. Not only that, she was comfortable in her skin. And when she looked at herself in the mirror, she genuinely loved the person looking back at her.

In the past couple of years, she had found her relationship with God again. She had seen how much it grounded her and understood now that whatever spirit was flying around in the sky loved her exactly as she was. Her family loved her. Her friends loved her. Dulcie was loved. Deeply and infinitely. In a way her teenage self could have never imagined or dared to dream of. She was so far from that Dulcie. The one who used to pull uncomfortably at her uniform skirt while pretending not to look at other girls in theirs. The girl who kept her head in the books and did everything she could to not disturb the trust of her parents and teachers. The girl who lived in fear every single day.

The tears were flowing freely now and she had to laugh at herself as she started to wipe at her face. Maybe she hadn't given herself enough credit for how much she had grown and learn. She knew she didn't. She had been too focused on being hard on herself. But tonight, sitting in the Kat's back alley, she could admit that she was so proud of who she had become. And though her teenage self would likely be a judgmental little bitch about it, she still felt confident that even that version of herself would be proud.

"Get it together," she mumbled to herself, laughing as she slid her heels back on, texted her sister that she was having a great time and got back to her feet. Inspired by the feeling that she hadn't come this far just to sit on the sidelines again, she took a deep breath and opened the door and went back inside, in search of her friends and all of the love (and alcohol) she deserved.

[definitelynotshouting]

like “jealousy”, “painting”, and “trees”? for your three word prompts (if I did it right)!

for the three word fic prompt (closed) | ao3 link

This took forever but hopefully it was worth it anon <- did not expect this to be like. 900 words. Anyway ART HEIST AU POGGGG

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If Mumbo wasn't our client, what do you think his role in a grift would be?"

Grian's voice is a soft slip through golden hour, pitched low to avoid puncturing the bubble they've built between two trees and the roofline. Fifteen feet up and hidden within the foliage, they have unfiltered access to the ebb and flow of Craft Museum's clientele; the crowds have thinned as six-thirty creeps forward on dying knees. In about twenty minutes, the last honeyed rays of the setting sun will douse themselves against the horizon– but until that point, Grian has time to kill.

What they never tell you about heists is how long you spend waiting. Casing a location takes time; past the heady buzz of a new assignment are days, even weeks, of studying shift changes, security systems, building plans, and the object of interest itself. Ninety percent patience, ten percent actual thievery– and while the adrenaline rush is worth it every time, between those crystalline snapshots lies nothing but dull monotony.

So, inane questions. It's better than trying to play I Spy.

For one taffy-stretched moment, Scar doesn't respond. Unlike Grian, whose eyes began wandering an hour ago, his gaze is glued to the sky; whether he's counting the minutes to nightfall or admiring the colors is anyone's mystery– though if Grian had to hazard a guess, it's a little mixture of both.

Then Scar rolls his shoulders and says, with the teasing nonchalance Grian has begun to associate with all of their interactions: "Oh, eye-candy for sure."

Grian chokes on thin air. "Scar!"

Scar's head shifts, neck craning to display how his brows leap into his hairline. "What!" he says, eyes far too wide for genuine innocence; a common tactic for him, though it's been some time since it's worked on Grian. "It's true! He'd make a great distraction– he's got the suit-look going for him, and that luxurious mustache–"

Whatever else Scar says is lost in a rush of grey static. As with all people, Grian is a great many things: cocky, thieving, and selfish account for several of them. He's the kind to covet, which can be dangerous in this line of work– you never make it farther than your front door if you can't learn to let things go.

Unfortunately for all of them, Grian is also possessive– over items, jobs, people– and in the face of this fatal flaw, the gilded snarl of teeth that snaps between his ribs shouldn't catch him so off guard. He reels anyway, punch-drunk and lightheaded, a haze of red smearing behind his eyes. Grian fumbles to cover it with another indignant splutter.

"Don't flirt with our client!" he snaps when he can risk words, appall dripping from every syllable. "We're supposed to be professionals!"

Scar has the actual gall to shoot him a wounded look. "I am plenty professional," he protests. "Besides, he's not even here right now– it's not flirting if they can't hear you say it."

A dozen barbed retorts sizzle to life on Grian's tongue in response to that, stinging his gums with a vitriol far too strong for the circumstances. He opens his mouth, lips peeling back from teeth–

Nestled in his ear, Grian's comm crackles; a harsh, grating buzz that drags his heart all the way up into his throat. Beside him, Scar jumps as well, throwing out a hand before he can upset his balance.

Mumbo's voice is an apologetic stumble tripping over itself. "Sorry, um, just thought I'd let you both know this channel's still open. I can hear you." A beat. "Sorry."

The glance Grian exchanges with Scar is mute, wide-eyed, and brimming with chagrin. Without breaking eye contact, Grian reaches up and switches his comm to off.

After a moment's hesitation, Scar mirrors him.

"I cannot believe you," Grian hisses the second he lowers his hand.

"Now how was I supposed to know the channel was still open?" Scar shoots right back. Then, with damning accusation: "I don't know why you're getting so bent out of shape about this, G– it's not like I don't talk about how good people look all the time!"

"But not the clients," Grian stresses, steamrolling past his own hypocrisy. "There's professionalism involved here, Scar, we can't just– just go around– complimenting everybody!"

Scar's lips part, only to flatten back into a thin, straight line. Ruddy sunlight slips over the bridge of his nose, painting his profile in flame; Grian's lungs hitch without permission. Even half his face cast in shadow isn't enough to conceal the stark, appraising glitter growing in his eyes.

"You've never had a problem with it when I do it to you," Scar finally points out, cadence threaded with a creeping, thoughtful edge.

Grian's throat dries. Holding Scar's gaze becomes an exercise in futility– his eyes drop to skitter across the roof, snagging on a sharp crag in the tile next to him. One finger taps against his knee, keeping time with the rabbit beats of his pulse. Between two trees and the roofline, Scar's stare threatens to strip Grian down to his last, raw, aching nerve.

Speaking takes a few attempts; he has to clear his throat twice before his voice jogs out of it. "Let's just… focus on Mumbo's painting," he mumbles at last, once the silence has stretched far beyond the event horizon. Then, clamping his jaw shut, Grian shifts his attention back to the skyline– past the heavy, dragging weight of Scar's scrutiny, and the way it boils, persistent, across every inch of his skin.

[m-j98]

My first participation in an ongoing Whumptober, and especially in art! (It's still the 13th where I live, is it where you guys are, too?)

Usually I just upload fics where I used prompts from the past years. I kinda rushed this, and I'm not very good at drawing things without references, so don't come for me, please 🙈 I only just started with digital art, I usually draw on paper...

Anyways, since I can't help myself, there's also a short snippet I wrote, just to ... set the mood, explain the context of this pic, idk, it got a little out of hand ... enjoy!

TW: homophobia/slurs, depictions of violence, "slight" SA (unwanted touching)

"Where is Nick? We've been waiting for ages!", Tao whined. To be fair, they had already been waiting for 20 minutes at this point.

"How long does it take for him to use the loo? It wasn't that far away!"

Charlie checked his phone. "I don't know ... he didn't send a message either. Maybe he just ran into someone he knows?"

It was the first pride event all of them visited, together. Well, all of them is wrong, Sahar and Imogen spent the day ... somewhere else? They didn't say, but they wanted to try to show up to the party in the evening. By now it was almost 9 pm though and the others weren't sure if they were really going to show. The teens had to leave the club at 12 am, being minors and all, so they needed to make do with what time they had.

Tara and Darcy went on a little roadtrip together, so they couldn't be there either.

"Maybe you should call him", Elle suggested, while fixing her dress in a shop window. Isaac looked up from the book he was reading. "Maybe you guys should chill. We still have time. The party is not gonna start for another 10 minutes and the club is just down the street."

Charlie hesitated, but then grabbed his phone again. Truth be told, he was getting a little worried. "I think I'll call him."

Nick passed the dark shop windows on his way back to his friends. The bi-flag he wore around his neck softly billowed in the wind as a small group of older - and drunk - men bumped into him. "Oh, sorry", Nick said, event though he felt that they could have watched where they were going, too.

Swaying, one of the young men, turned to him. "Watch your step, faggot ..."

Normally, Nick thought he was pretty resilient to people trying to bully him, but here, right now, he felt a little alone and vulnerable. "I don't want any trouble ...", he mumbled, taking a step back.

The older guys started to surround him. "Oh, really? Well, maybe we do."

Nick was always fairly sure he was able to hold his own in a fight, if it came to it; not that he particularly liked fighting ... But he was outnumbered, by far.

The dark-haired man who insulted him grabbed him by the collar and pushed him into a nearby alleyway. Most of the others blocked the way out, snickering quietly.

"My friends are waiting for me, please", Nick practially begged, but the stranger didn't even grace him with an answer. He immediatly threw a punch, hitting him squarely in the face.

"Ugh..." Nick's head snapped back, he felt blood gushing out of his nose as he toppled over. This pain was nothing compared to the kicks that rained down on him afterwards though, hitting him in his chest as some of the other men joined their friend. One particularly nasty kick got him in his face. The pain that exploded behind his forehead and his eye blinded Nick for a second.

At some point he felt his flag being ripped off his back. The stranger knelt down next to the teenager and pushed the opened button up shirt aside. Nick started throwing weak punches in the general direction of the man. "... No ..."

He simply evaded them. "Oh, not so fond of men touching you now, are you?", he sneered, when suddenly, Nick's phone started buzzing. The dark-haired stranger pulled the phone out of his pocket and laughed at the screen, which was lit up with a picture of Nick and Charlie. "Look, it's that fag's boyfriend! Should we answer?"

"No!", Nick screamed, at least he tried to. It came out more of a whisper, thanks to his hurting ribs.

The older man threw the phone at the wall across from them, where it went dark upon impact.

A little voice in the back of Nicks mind told him his mum would be mad about that later, but realistically, she would probably not be mad at him.

"We should get going", one of the other men suddenly said. The main attacker checked his watch. "You're right. What should we do with you, though? Can't leave you running around telling people about this, now can we?"

Nick didn't like where this was going. At all.

From the back of his pants, the stranger procured a flip knife. The blade was illuminated menacingly by the streetlights from outside the alley.

"Best of luck to you, fag."

With that, he thrust the blade deep into Nick's upper stomach.

A load groan ripped itself from the ginger's throat as the blade swiftly cut into his flesh and, just as easily, glided right back out. Blood welled up from the wound and started running down his body in warm rivulets, staining his white cotton shirt and blue jeans a dark crimson color.

The stranger quickly stood back up and, together with his mates, left Nick to bleed out, all by himself.

Heavy breathing filled the alleyway as the teen just stayed on the ground, one hand pressed to his bleeding side. I can't stay here ... I need to get help...

Very slowly Nick got up off the ground, leaning on the cold walls for support. Broken phone and dirty flag forgotten, he made his way out of the alleyway, onto the empty street. Of course, just his luck, that there's not a single soul wandering around this evening.

Sighing softly, the teenager began the agonizing trip back to his friends.

"He's not picking up", Charlie told the others, his worry growing by the minute. Something had to be wrong. What if he was lost, what if he was sick or hurt or -

"I'm sure everything is fine", Elle answered, grounding her friend with a touch of her hand on his shoulder and silencing this never-ending spiral of doom in his head. She's probably right. What could have possibly happend...?

The friends were waiting for a few more minutes, and definitely late to the party by now, when suddenly, Nick emerged from the shadows, right around the corner.

Charlies inital relief was short-lived though, when he saw the state his boyfriend was in. Blood was staining his clothes, his skin ...

Their friends seemed to be in similar states of shock.

Still leaning on the nearest wall for support, Nick's blurry vision caught sight of his friends, presumably waiting for him. The dizziness made it difficult to even stay upright at this point. His shaky legs had trouble holding him up.

"Charlie ...", he whispered.

Faster than the curly-haired boy thought possible, he started running. "Nick?"

The older boy started swaying, eyelids drooping. "I don't feel so good ..." His knees buckled and the last thing he heard was Charlie, screaming his name: "NICK!"

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[bluiex]

Okayokayokayokay I’ll write some make up stuff for the demon au, but only because I also wanna hope on that omegaverse train, but I can’t until I get this end out of my brain /lh

When overmorrow comes, Grian decides he’s going to try again. This time he makes explicitly clear to Scar his role is to watch only. It’s partly for Mumbos sake but also partly as a punishment.

Grian cleans himself up all nice and wears something a bit nicer. He buys some flowers on his way to Mumbos too.

When he gets there, he knocks instead of just coming in. When the door opens, Grian watches as several emotions flash across Mumbos face: surprise, fear, confusion, before settling on nervous.

Guilt gnawed at Grians heart at Mumbos disheveled state. He was down to just his button up—his jacket tie and vest having been forgone, which was very unusual for him. More notably though, his moustache was a bit of a mess. Mumbo took great pride in his facial hair, so to see it unkempt was the biggest giveaway to the man’s turmoil.

Realizing he should say something, Grian cleared his throat. “Right, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted the other day. I treated you like a piece of meat. And it’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever done.” He took a deep breath. “You deserve better than that, you always have. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, but you also deserve an explanation: I wasn’t drunk, but I was buzzed. And a close friend of mine convinced me to just go for it, to be aggressive and domineering. And I should’ve never listened to him. You deserve better than that. You don’t have to forgive me—I wouldn’t forgive me to be honest—but I wanted to apologize anyway. Because you deserve that much at least. And I got you flowers.” He extended the bouquet to him.

Gingerly, almost hesitant, Mumbo took the flowers. He nibbled at his lip, they’re probably chapped. “You probably shouldn’t be friends with someone like that,” He said quietly.

Grian laughed weakly. “Well- they just have a lot of baggage. I still should’ve known better than to listen to them.”

“Yeah…” Mumbo glanced inside and the back to him. “Do- do you want to come in for some tea?”

“You’re letting me into your house? After all of that? The way I acted?”

“…yeah.” He nodded slowly. “It seems like there’s more to the story, anyway. Like your absence in general. And you- you just said I deserve an explanation… well, I want an explanation, for everything. If you are willing to share…”

Grian swallowed thickly. “Of course. Anything.”

Once they were situated with their tea, sat at the small dining table, Grian spoke up again. “I wasnt lying the other day though.” When Mumbo made a noise of confusion, he continued. “I am in love with you. Have been in love with you. I may have acted atrociously, but my words were genuine.”

Something in Mumbos face softened, and then he glanced away. “I… I have- Im in love with you too. But I can’t just dive into a head first relationship with you. Not after the other day.”

Conflicted emotions warred within Grian. “I understand… what about… can we take it slow? I can take you on a date, all nice and proper?”

“Where’ll you take me?”

“We could go for coffee, at that cafe down the street from my place. Or, if you’d rather, we could see a movie.”

A light blush colored Mumbos cheeks. “Those sound nice…”

“Okay,” Grian smiled softly.

They’ll be okay. In time, they’ll be okay.

(They end up seeing a movie, and at the end of the night, Mumbo kisses him. In his head, Scar cheers them on.)

— abridged anon

YEEES mumbo kissing him was the best thing ever to happen to Grian (besides Scar)

Scar: "Yeah!!! Now get that ass! Only if Mumbo wants too"

[teriyakiandginger]

[TIME: 2:16 AM]

Teri yawned, blinking his eyes open to the unfamiliar buzz of his phone ringing. The foreign noise had him confused for a moment, before seeing the name on his phone screen and answering with less hesitation than he would like to admit.

"Hel-"

"HELLO!"

He flinched at the loud shout from the other side of the phone, blinking and clearing his throat as he brought the phone to his ear again.

"Jesus, you're loud."

"WOOOOO!"

He smiled.

"What's up? How's the party?"

"Good! Really good! -m drunk!"

"I can tell."

He yawned, sitting up in bed.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all."

He lied. Why did he lie? It's not like she'll remember in the morning. Yet, he couldn't stop his mouth from moving.

"I'm up finishing my essay."

"Y'need to sleep early!"

He scoffed.

"I don't sleep. Sleep is for the weak."

He can hear her fumbling around and giggling a little with her phone, before slurring: "Didya know, sleep depridation long term increases y'risk of getting diabetes?"

"Sleep deprivation." He thought. "depridation isn't even a word."

"I did not. Where did you learn that?"

He laughed a little at having to talk to her like a child. He did appreciate the effort she was making though.

"My friend told me earlier. Say hi!"

"Hi!"

He rolled his eyes, muttering a half hearted 'Hello'. He recognised that voice, and already wanted to march over there and-

No. Shut up. Everything is fine.

He hears some mumbles, and some laughs, and the opening of a door. He chews on his lip, trying to make out what she is saying.

"Alright, I'm going outside so I can talk to Teri. Be right back!"

He scoffs almost triumphantly at the fact that she's leaving this party she was so excited about, only to talk to him. He wonders how many people are there, who is there, what she's doing right now. what she's wearing right now.

He hears a thud and a groan from the other side of the phone.

"Ah, fuck."

Although a little worried, he had to stop himself from laughing.

"You alright? Did you just fall over?"

"Yeaaa..."

"Be careful."

"Okay, I'm good now."

He sighed.

"Sorry. I know I'm interrupting your work.

But I just wanted to call and talk to you."

Teri stared at his phone as if it was the only thing in the room with him.

"Okay. Hi."

"Hi."

A short silence filled the air, broken by Ginger's voice once again. He couldn't tell if she hated the silence or was just eager to tell him something. Either way, her voice was welcomed.

"This is important to me, by the way, l'm not just calling to annoy you. Even though I like to annoy you."

"Oh, I know. Okay. What's up, then?"

His nose twitched into a sort of anticipatory grimace.

"Teriyaki."

He froze like a child in trouble at the use of his full name. He didn't think she'd ever used that before, ever since they first met. It filled his stomach with some kind of twisted dread he hadn't felt in a long time.

"...Ginger."

"You are my best friend." She said, not slurring or unsure. She said it with complete certainty.

He felt comfortable with those words. The kind of comfortable you feel when you fall into a routine, and get used to doing the same thing every day.

"I am also good friends with our other friends. But you are my best friend. I'm...close to you. Maybe Miso too. But you, I like you a lot."

Comfortable. His expression contorted at realising he had to admit that he felt the same.

"...Likewise."

Silence again.

"Also, my phone mayyy or may not die mid call, so if I hang up without sayin' goodbye, I'm not bein' rude on purpose."

He couldn't help but feel like she's gone back to being more carefree and less earnest. Did he say something wrong?

"Noted."

More silence. He tapped his knuckles at the silence. Why can't she just say something? Anything to break this silence. Anything but having him stew in these thoughts. Anything-

"You know that night a few weeks ago?

When we...?"

Anything but that.

Why that?? Teri's face heated up quicker than he managed to get a word out. Pathetic, acting like such a teenager. It's not out of the ordinary for people to do...that. Why can't he even think about it?? This is ridiculous. Why is she bringing this up?? He thought to himself.

"Y-yeah. That was fun."

"It was fun. I really liked it. And I'm glad it was with you."

Teri buried his head in his hands, wishing she would stop.

"Something about consistently kissin' with you is... I dunno! I'm gettin' used to how your face feels. An' I like it that way. I like your warm hands."

He could vomit. He could practically see her stupid fucking smile.

"That's good. I think."

"Why 'you think'?"

He cursed himself that he even said anything. He just acted out of embarrassment.

"Because I don't know if it's risky."

"No, I know. I know what you're going to say."

It's not that Teri didn't like it. Or her. Very much the opposite. He just... wasn't used to feeling yet. Feeling anything. For her, for himself... all of this new emotion was alien to him. He wouldn't ever admit it, but it scared him a little. It's why he pushed everyone away from him. It was more like a habit than a conscious effort he made.

"I'm only letting us do this as long as it isn't emotionally complicated."

"Well, don't worry. I'm okay. It's not."

"Alright, good."

More silence. Fuck this shitty fucking silence. It was so grating.

"I'm just worried. I somehow feel like this is a morally shitty use of our friendship."

His mouth moved before he could think. It's almost like he was the drunk one here.

Ginger hummed in thought. "You know, I actually think it's good that we're doing this between friends."

"Why?"

Suddenly, he wasn't okay with being comfortable with her anymore. The mundanity of the same routine has grown tiresome. Teri found himself wanting more. More of her.

"Intimacy feels right when it's with someone I trust, even if it's platonic. And for me... it's not emotionally complicated. I've always had love for you, regardless of it being platonic or romantic or whaddever. You mean a lot to me."

He could hear her smiling.

"I like how your face looks, and I like what we're doing. There's nothing complicated about how I feel. You're my best friend. I love you."

His heartbeat was in his ears. It was a mixture of frustration and relief, and was the root of that twisted dreadful feeling. He wished more than anything that he could understand what she meant by all of this, but he couldn't.

"This sounds like it's reaching my definition of 'emotionally complicated'."

She sighed. "Okay. Let's forget about that definition for a second. How are you feeling?"

He hated this question. How the fuck was he supposed to know how he was feeling? The frustration was taking over his thoughts a little.

"It's not that I have nothing to say. I just don't know whether I'm saying it properly."

"Take your time."

He took a breath to calm down.

"I'm worried about hurting one of us. You're talking like you've caught feelings, and I'm just... this is all a lot."

She coughed. "I'm not catching feelings. And if I was, it wouldn't be a problem. We're friends. That's all that matters."

"That's not all that matters."

"You sound like you don't like this."

"No, no, it's not that."

She huffed, sounding frustrated. "Then what are you so afraid of? I can take care of myself."

"I just care! God, I just... care. About you."

Silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable this time.

"I understand what you said, but friends are supposed to care about each other. I would resent myself if this hurt you. And I'd rather set that boundary than let it get any worse."

"Okay. I understand."

She feels distant. He thinks.

"I'm just trying to be sure that this is right, and I have no idea whether it is. Maybe I worry too much about us, but I don't want either of us to fuck this up."

"Yeah, I know. But we won't, though."

As he was talking, Teri heard a few people shouting for Ginger in the background.

"And I'm sorry if this is coming out all wrong; it's just hard to say that I-

[CALL ENDED]

-love you too."

[librawithoutbalance]

will I find myself again?

for the final hour of jimin day, I'm here to celebrate with a quick story draft inspired by like crazy. the catch? every single lyric is included.

Tonight is not out of the ordinary. I had decided that I didn't want to sit alone in my apartment any longer and am now en route to find temporary relief from the daily monotony. At least when I'm drunk I don't need to think about how I haven't felt like myself for a while. Since I was young, I've been reaching for the stars, constantly striving for more and more approval. But the more approval I seek from others, the more I lose myself. Now, when I look in the mirror, I can't even recognize all my reflections. There's a gap somewhere within me that I cannot quite pinpoint. As much as I wish it worked, trying to take the pressure off is useless anyways because each night ends the same. The buzz is just a pseudo-happiness that is effective, but so painfully temporary. What's the point?

That's a question I can answer another time. For the time being, I find myself in search of liquid serotonin like usual, but what I don't expect is to see you, all alone, tucked away in an alley near my usual destination. You're a shining beauty with an aura made of stars, and I know without a doubt that I'm out of my mind and hallucinating. Common sense is screaming at me. She's saying I'm delusional, to keep walking, maybe look into seeing a psychiatrist. I listen and I know she's right, but her voice isn't convincing enough to make me walk away. Especially not after you reach your hand in my direction, a soft golden smile covering your face.

 "Baby," you said, coaxing me towards you. "Come and follow me."

I'm moving in your direction against my own volition, but my survival instincts are fighting with me. You must notice my hesitation. As soon as I'm within reach, you go ahead and take my hand in yours. This first touch seems surreal and, as corny as it sounds, magical. My fragile emotions on ice begin to melt and flood into my system, but they are not overwhelming. Surprisingly, it's calming, to feel so many emotions accompanied by the warm heat of your touch. You spin me up high, so high, just by your grip on my hand.

"Who...who are you?" I'm trying to reason with why I feel so safe with you, a hallucination. But how can a hallucination feel so real?

You keep smiling, taking my other hand in yours. "I'm Phero."

Your voice is sweet and relaxing, and I can't help but let the tears out of my eyes. For the first time, with your hands in mine and my emotions taking over, I grapple with the fact that everything hurts. I didn't realize just how much until right now, when you made me feel. Your thumbs start tracing circles on the backs of my hands. 

"I know," you sigh.

I don't quite understand. "You know?"

"Yeah, I know."

I blow a breath out, trilling my lips. "Can you help me numb the pain?"

"Well that's why I'm here, isn't it?" 

I nod, even though I have no idea why you are here. My next exhale is a shutter as your fingers trace up my arms affectionately. In the back of my mind, I can hear the voices listening to everything; the voices of all the people who have deemed themselves the judges of my life. I don't know who they are, but they're powerful. They always have been. Right now, though, I'm not quite sure I care. This feels so right, and the more you touch me, the more I'm falling in this dream. Soon, my face is in your hands and your voice is in my ear again.

"Why are you so nervous, baby?" Your fingers brush the hair out of my eyes before returning to my cheeks. "There's not a bad thing here tonight, I promise. It's just you and me, no need to be nervous."

My lips are trembling as I whisper, "I don't know if I should."

You giggle, a bright and airy noise, and the gap between us shrinks. "You don't need a reason. Save your reasons all for later, darling. Come with me."

"Where would we go?"

You press impossibly closer to me, your aura now warming by body from head to toe. Pushing up onto your toes, you bring your eyes to meet mine, and I get lost in the galaxy swimming around in them. In my daze, you turn my head to the side so that you can put your lips directly against my ear. "Just trust me."

I say I do, and your chuckle fills my ear. "It's going to be a good night."

You wrap your arms around my body and pull, and now I sink down with you, through time and space. It's almost dizzying, seeing the world shift around us like we were bending the continuum. I could get lost in here, but for some reason, I know I'm secure in your hold. Just when I start to think this is all there is, time finally ceases to exist, and our feet touch the ground. We're in a never-ending space made of morphing colors and shapes. Vibrant blobs of various colors and sizes are growing, shrinking, splitting, and colliding all around us like holiday fireworks. It's just you and I here, surrounded by colors I never thought I'd have the pleasure to get to know. 

My voice echoes back when I ask, "where am I?"

You let go of my body. "Your Paradise."

"Is this a dream?"

I had meant for that thought to stay inside my head, but you save me any embarrassment when you answer without judgement.

"How do you define a dream?" You aren't looking for an answer. You gesture out towards the space, encouraging me to explore. The absurdity of the situation doesn't escape me, but I brush that aside. If I am dreaming or hallucinating, the worst this can do is give me a good ride. 

You watch me go as I wander the space. At first I just walk away, dodging the blobs whenever they come flying near me. After some time, I start paying attention to what these ever-changing entities actually are. It's an odd observation, but I see myself in the colors and in the shapes, but not me as I stand today. The me that's here is so foreign that I don't even know how I recognized them as myself. Out of pure curiosity, I reach out and grab at the large fuchsia blob flowing to my left, and I giggle. Purely elated giggles. It's warm, like you are, but when it tickles my skin, I decide that I never want to let go. The comfort of it brings inexplicable joy that washes over my body in waves and makes its home there. 

When I'm worried that I've gone too far, I turn back to you, my solace, and you're right there behind me, with that same glowing smile on your face. With one nod of your head, I turn back and grab the next blob that comes by. It's shining like an amethyst, and having it wrapped around my hand only amplifies the high. 

I cry out in happy laughter as the shapes begin to consume me, and rather than fighting it, I rejoice. From the outside looking in, one might assume that this is suffocating, but that couldn't be further from the truth. It was like I was finally free. I am lost in the lights and in the colors, and it feels so refreshing. I suddenly understand why I recognized myself in here. I'm surrounded by the me that I am meant to be, and I never want us to separate again. How can I? I'd rather be here. I'm feeling so alive, wasting time in this Paradise.

I'm climbing higher and higher, soaking in the utter euphoria when, out of nowhere, a dark haze clouding up my eyes takes over. I wonder if this will break me if I don't brush it away, so I reach up to do so before it becomes too powerful. It doesn't make a difference, because you're all over me, pulling me out of the lights I had grown so accustomed to and into darkness. When we're flying through space and time again, I realize you're pulling me back to reality and I am now I am certain that this is going to break me.

I begin to push against you, thrashing in your hold, sobbing into your shoulder. No matter how much I do, your hold doesn't break, it only grows tighter. 

"Shh..." You say into my ear. "I'm saving you."

"Don't save me. N-no! Don't you wake me. Don't you try to save me." Like a toddler, I'm kicking and punching you, desperate to escape so that I can fall back and find Paradise again, but you won't give up. You let me have a taste and now you're taking me away when you said you'd help. Why won't you just help?

My body slams into a comforter, and without looking, I know I'm lying in my bed. Your arms are pressed against my chest, keeping me right where I am.

"Please," I'm begging through tears. "I want to stay. Please stay with me a little while longer."

"I cannot," you say plainly.

"But...I need a way we-" I'm forced to swallow the lump of tears in my throat as my chest heaves up and down. "I need a way we can dream on." Despite my visceral negative reaction up to this point, you still have the same sweet and gentle smile, which brings a little comfort as you shake your head no. I can't help but feel small and weak and pitiful. My admission is nothing more than a whisper:

"I'm afraid that everything will disappear."

You begin rubbing circles against my heart to soothe me. "I think we could last forever, but you don't need to stay in this dream to do that. You can find that here."

"Tell me..." I reach up and cover your hands with my own as I realize there's no point in fighting anymore. All I can do right now is savor your warmth while I still have it here. "Will I find myself again?"

"You will if you want, but you have to let go." Using one hand to hold me face, you press a soft kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes, soaking in the feeling for one last time. "Remember, baby, it's forever, you and I."

In one go, you pull away and leave me alone again, and I take my first breath. 

[hellabigsimp]

Do you like this Position? Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long mission, Steve, Sam and Bucky all converge on their favourite tech specialist, wanting nothing more than to hang out and have fun. Only the didn’t expect it to hot and heavy…

Warnings: drinking, sort of alluding to sex, please don’t interact if you are a minor.

A/N: I got the inspo of TikTok and I just couldn’t get it out my head. So here it is! I might do a part two if people want actual filth.

Masterlist

“You have to do it,” Sam says, pointing his finger at you. “We want to see now. You claim you can raise his heart rate, then do it.”

You weren’t sure how the night had ended like this, but you somehow had Steve, Sam and Bucky squished into your lounge in your shoebox apartment. They had come back from a mission and needed some pick me up fun, so they came to their favourite tech specialist apartment.

Aka you.

There was drinking, the only ones getting tipsy was Sam and you, since the other two super soldiers couldn’t. As more drinks were shared between Sam and you, the more devious plans you two concocted.

On the table in the lounge was the heart rate monitor you had recently fixed for the medical wing. You had been testing it out when the boys had rocked up. Instantly Sam was on it, attaching it to himself.

Then the games began. You all were trying to raise each other’s heart rates by doing stupid things, showing videos and dancing somewhat provocatively. Once the first lap dance from Steve was given to Sam, that’s when things started going down hill.

You swore up and down, you could make Buckys heart rate sky rocket, you were sure of it. Lately there had been some suggestive and flirty texts and conversations you had shared. You were attracted to him, no doubt about it. The man fascinated you to no end, you were enraptured from the beginning when Steve brought him back to the compound.

You were never sure you could act on the suggestions though, you thought maybe he was doing it for fun and needed an overly friendly friend. Just that. But the issue with you, was that as soon as alcohol was in your system, you were bold. You were confident.

Which got you into trouble.

“Don’t doubt me Birdbrain,” you said, pointing at Sam. “I am not afraid to prove it.”

Bucky had chuckled at the suggestion to begin with but the more Sam and you goaded each other, the reality dawned on him. “You really don’t need to do it.”

The heart rate monitor was already attached to him, his heart rate spiking a little as his imagination ran wild a little at all the possibilities you might try to get his heart rate up.

“See birdbrain, I’m already winning and I haven’t even done anything yet,” you stick your tongue out and down the rest of your drink, the buzz enough to give you that boost.

You stand up from the floor, your head spinning ever so slightly. You weren’t drunk enough not to know what you were doing, just buzzed. You knew how to handle alcohol.

Sam whoops, making Steve laugh. You didn’t care about the audience. You had a bet to win. You look eyes with Bucky, his blue eyes wide. You could see him swallow, his tongue darting over his bottom lip.

You smirk at him as you saunter over, swaying your hips from side to side, running your hands up your body. You could feel your own heart start to race as you edge closer.

Bucky was sitting on the sofa, leaning back comfortably. He was in exactly the position you wanted. You spot the heart rate monitor, the number rising steadily.

“You ready Sergeant?” You whisper. You could hear Steve snort his drink behind you, but you didn’t care. As you stood in front of him, Bucky’s gaze locked on you, his eyes filled with this sudden hunger that would make sober you blush. He gives you a small nod.

You didn’t hesitate as you rested your knee on the sofa, swinging your leg over till you were comfortably straddling the man in front of you. Your core was pressed down against him, you could feel yourself starting to get wet, pleasure pooling.

Buckys hands automatically found the lower of your back, dangerous close to grabbing your ass. You let out a small gasp when his hand lowered a little. The heart rate monitor spiked quickly.

You grinned, resting your hands on his hard chest, you lower yourself, whispering in his ear.

“Do you like this position, Sergeant?”

Bucky couldn’t help but let out a small moan, his hands tightening the hold they had on you, his erection pressed against your core. He couldn’t get enough of you. The heart rate monitor was beeping loudly in the back ground.

You wanted to stay like this, your own body hot with need for this man. But you felt a cushion hit you on the back of the head. You look over your shoulder. Both Sam and Steve were watching with wide eyes, both of them somewhat aroused by the scene too.

“Alright, you win.” Sam said, downing his drink. “You win.”

“I told you birdbrain,” you say, regretfully getting off Buckys lap. “Never make a bet with me, I’ll always win.”

The need was still coursing through your body and you knew you needed release. But you couldn’t very well do it with company, especially the super soldiers. You sit down next to Bucky, who had taken the cushion and placed it on his lap, hiding the erection you had felt.

You crossed your legs, trying to ease the throbbing between your own legs, not that it was working. You grabbed another drink, opening it and down it, as an attempt to cool down.

It definitely didn’t work.

[eddswrold-fandicc]

Tomtord Smut

Tom was walking home from the bar, disappointed because it had been closed for cleaning today. Why today? Why couldn't be any other day? This day was the most shit for Tom.

First, he woke up late and missed breakfast. Then, he ran out of alcohol at home. And then Tord wouldn't stop poking at his face. And then Matt dropped his mirror on Tommee bear, getting glass shards in him. After that, Tom had also missed the lunch that Edd made, so he had to make himself a disappointment sandwich.

Today just sucked.

Tom was now at the front door of his shared house. He took a deep breath before walking in. Matt was on the sofa, reading a book with Matt on Matt action being played in the background.

Tom closed the front door and locked it for the night, "Where's everybody else?"

Matt put his finger on his book to keep his place before looking up at Tom, "Edd went to bed, and Todd went to take a shower a few minutes ago."

Tom nodded his head, and then dragged his tired feet to his room. He opened his bedroom door and plopped down on his bed, ready for this day to be over.

"Drunk Tom?"

Great. Now that commie bastard is gonna fuck with him some more today.

Tom turned his body, "No. The bar was closed."

Tord was standing in Tom's doorway with his elbow on the door frame, holding his body. He only had a towel on.

Tom watched a drop of water fall out of his hair, and onto his nose.

"Do you want a picture?" Tord teased.

Tom scoffed and turned back around, burying his face in his arms.

Soon enough, Tom fell asleep, finally glad this day was over with.

Until he was woken abruptly.

"Tom," his body was being shaken.

"Thomas, wake up.." who's shaking Tom's body?

"Please, wake up." Tom's eye opened.

Tord was sitting beside Tom, on his bed, "What the fuck do you want, commie?"

Tom was now upset that he'd been woken up.

"It's storming hard and the power went out. I cant see my hentai."

Tom now sat up, "You woke me up over the power being out?"

It was too dark to see Tord's face, but Tom could feel his body heat radiating from him. He was close.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you had a flashlight. I can't see my hentai."

Tom sighed, "You're not using my flashlight over your stupid cartoon porno. Especially after waking me up over something so stupid."

"Hentai," Tord corrected. "Then how am I supposed to get off? My phone is dead."

Tom made a face, but nobody could see it. "I don't know and I dont care. Get the fuck out of my room so I can sleep."

Then silence.

Tom didn't feel Tord move, he still felt his body heat.

"Commie."

No response.

"Go away."

Still no response.

"... Tord?"

Now Tom put his hands out in front of him to feel for Tord. He felt himself poke Tord's neck. Tord jumped at the sudden physical contact.

Then Tom felt movement. Tord was moving his arm. Tom put his hand on Tord's arm and trailed down to his hand to see what he was doing. And Tord wasn't stopping him.

Tom got to Tords hand and touched something wet. He immediately retreated his hand, "What the fuck! Are you jerking right beside me?! You fucking pervert, get out of here!"

"But Thomas, it felt good when you touched me. Do it again~"

"Get away from me." Tom bore through his teeth.

"Please touch me, Jehovah?"

"No. Go away," Tom repeated.

Then there was silence again. Tom suddenly felt a pair of warm hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto his bed.

Tom was too confused to say anything.

"What if I touch you then~?" Tord's breath hit Tom's neck.

Tom's face immediately heated up and he felt himself getting hard.

No, this shouldn't be happening. Tom didn't like Tord like that, and he sure as hell wasn't gay. Then why is Tom getting hard from this? And why hasn't he said anything yet?

Tord started kissing and sucking on Tom's neck. Tom wasn't pushing him off, so he kept going.

Tord snaked his hand under Tom's hoodie, then under his shirt, and began pulling it off.

Tom was still silent. Maybe he did want this. He still doesn't know.

Tord used his knee to grind on Tom's crotch, and used his hands to rub on Tom's chest.

"Someone's hard." Tord cooed in Tom's ear.

Tom stayed silent as Tord continued kissing on Tom's neck, eventually moving down to his chest and collarbone. Tom bit his lip as Tord touched a sensitive area on his collarbone.

Then Tord stopped, "Tom say something." It was too quiet for him.

Tom thought of something to say. But couldn't think of anything.

"Are... Are you okay, Jehova?" Tord now had a hint of concern in his voice. Only a hint though.

Tom cleared his throat, "I think so.. I've never done this with a guy before and I dont know how i feel about it."

Tord got off of Tom, "Do you want me to stop?"

Tom thought for a moment.

"No. Let's keep going."

Now Tord was shocked. But didn't hesitate to go back down on Tom and continue to kiss on him.

He now used his hand to grind on Tom's clothed erection. Tom started breathing heavily, which Tord liked.

Tord unbuttoned Tom's jeans and pulled them off, along with his underwear, "Top or bottom?"

Do what now? Tord's letting him choose?

"Uhh. I don't know.. whatever I guess.."

Tord shrugged his shoulders and took Tom's cock into his mouth. The movement was so quickly that it caused Tom to jolt. He felt his face heat up like it never has before.

Tord began to quickly suck Tom's cock, making sure to get it all nice and wet.

Tom bit his lip again and closed his voided eyes. Maybe he did like this.

Tord pulled off of Tom's cock and climbed on top of him. Tom now realized that Tord had been naked this whole time. Tord positioned his entrance over Tom's slippery dick, and slowly pushed the head in.

Tord's breathing hitched as his rear end was in pain from the stretch. Tom grabbed Tord's thighs and began rubbing them, finally melting into this session.

And it was helping. Tord started pushing himself further down on Tom, and Tom was now aching to fuck Tord. He wished the lights were on so he can see Tord's face look so vulnerable.

Tord was now fully seated on Tom's cock, waiting for his walls to adjust to the stretch. Truth is, he's never done this before either. Maybe he should have grabbed some lube first.

Tord was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Tom moved his right hand from Tord's thigh to his cock. Tord jolted. His tip was warm and leaking precum. Tord was aching to be touched.

Tom started teasing the tip, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion, and squeezing the tips of his fingers on the shaft. Tord's breathing was shuddering, and he started moving on Tom's cock, loving the pleasure brought to his own.

Tom took his hands off Tord's cock and onto his hips, earning a whimper from Tord. He used his hands to move Tord back and forth on his dick.

Tord placed his hands on Tom's bare chest and bit his lip. It hurt, but it also felt good.

Tord started moving on his own, taking Tom's hand and placing it back on his aching dick. Tom took the signal and began to pump his closed fist around Tord's cock.

Tord felt good like this. So he started making small moans. Tom kicked his head back and took in the pleasure that Tord was giving him. He started thrusting into Tord, causing Tord to gasp and moan kind of loudly.

Tom was now thrusting into Tord and jerking him off at the same time. Tord was a moaning mess, absolutely melting into Tom. And Tom liked seeing Tord so vulnerable. It turned him on even more, so he started thrusting harder and harder, until he heard Tord moan very loudly and his breath shudder.

Tom stopped, "Are you okay?" He couldn't see Tord's face.

"Mmmm... Hah.. y-yeah. Fuck me right there, Tom.. p-pleaseee" Tord moaned into Tom's chest.

So Tom did exactly what Tord asked. He thrusted his cock in that same spot again, earning a load moan from Tord, who was now shaking.

Tom started thrusting faster at that spot, making Tord go nuts. He was scratching at Tom's shoulders and arms, shaking and moaning, trying to kiss on Tom's chest.

Tom was absolutely loving it. Even though he couldn't see Tord's face, he liked the way Tord was acting. He started feeling Tord tighten around his cock. Tom began jerking Tord's cock faster and squeezing his waist with his other hand.

"OH! Ah~ T-T-Tommm.. I'm gon-na cum~! Please make m-mee cum" Tord moaned shakily.

Tom pounded into Tord's sweet spot a few more times before Tord wrapped his arms around Tom's head and nearly screamed into the crook of his neck. Tord's hot seed splattered on both of their stomachs.

But Tom wasn't stopping. Not when he's getting close.

Now Tord was going crazy with overstimulation.

"T-Om, please~! P-please I can't... I can't ta-take it.."

Tom wrapped his arms around a shaky and messy Tord as he made his final thrusts before shooting his load into Tord. Tom grunted as he rode out his orgasm, finally slowing down his pace and coming to a full stop.

Tord was still breathing heavily on him, like he just ran 3 miles, and making small moans.

"Let's hope you didn't wake anyone, commie. You're loud." Tom panted.

Then his phone buzzed. It was a text from Edd.

'Are you guys done yet? Matt is in my room scared because of you two.'

[btsxmalereaders]

☆ Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you!

♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff | f2l

> word count — 4.3k I don't know how this happened

> summary — chan realises he likes you by not being able to use pickup lines on you

> a/n — i saw a tiktok where chan says he's gonna use a pickup line on felix and my love-deprived self ended up writing this lol i hope you all like it

| 05282021

| Please keep making more whosfan accounts and keep streaming WOLFGANG on the correct platforms!

"Hey, how you doin'?" Chan casually says as he enters the kitchen, trying not to grin and start giggling right away. He even places his hands over the table and tilts his head a little in an attempt to look confident. Felix takes his attention away from the food he is cooking and turns on his feet to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Good?" He answers with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

Chan finally lets out a small giggle, "Oh nothing, I was just thinking that... I am not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together."

And Felix thinks it's a creative pickup line, funny even, but what ends up making him laugh is the way his best friend bends over to start laughing louder and the way his cheeks turn reddish at the embarrassment he's probably feeling.

"That was a good one, I must say," He chuckles. "Not as great as the Optimus Fine one, though. Even if it made you laugh for ten minutes after you said it."

And Chan can only laugh harder at the remembrance, placing his hands over his slightly aching abdomen and gasp for air when he can't handle it anymore. Felix giggles as well and denies with his head, going back to stir what's on the pot.

"Stays keep getting creative when it comes to flirting with you," He speaks again as the laughter finally dies down. "They probably think you might use it on someone you like, and you're here almost crying because you use them on us."

Chan hums, "Well, I don't really like anyone right now."

Felix turns off the stove and makes a -dramatic- pause, turning again to face Chan as he gets closer and squints his eyes. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Chan laughs. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but I don't buy it. Maybe it's the love songs you have as drafts in your laptop."

"Ah, that doesn't mean I'm in love," He explains and takes a seat in front of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "That's why they're still drafts, though. They don't convey the feeling of being in love because I am not in love, you know?"

"Good point, but it still doesn't convince me."

"Why?" He asks again with a chuckle, a little embarrassed by the sudden interest in his - nonexistent - love life. "You know our activities barely give us time for ourselves, so it's almost impossible to have a relationship with someone. At least a formal one."

"You can still like someone and not be with them." Felix shrugs. "So spill it. Who is it?"

And Chan knows he's just messing around with him, but he can't help but feel flustered. "No one! I think so." He almost says it in a whisper; however, Felix doesn't comment on it.

"I still want to listen to those drafts," He stands up and smiles. "Why don't you show me?"

This was not the way Chan expected the conversation to go, so he hesitates a bit about his friend's request. Well, it wasn't unusual anyway, at least Changbin had heard a couple and also helped in the composition of the songs, so having someone else hear them wouldn't hurt. He might even listen to ideas on his part to improve them.

"Okay, I can do that. Next week Y/N will come to the studio and work on something, why don't you pop-up at some point and I can show you?"

Felix nods, "Sounds good! Y/N asked for help for his new album?"

"Yeah, he wants me to listen to some tracks he has been working on." He casually comments, taking his phone from his pocket and leading his attention to the device, so now Felix can't see the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, I haven't seen him in a while. Why hasn't he come to the dorm lately? We should invite him."

"He has been busy with his album, that's why. If you think I leave late from the studio, that's nothing compared to him, he truly spends an ungodly amount of time there."

"So you see him often?" Felix asks with sudden interest, now being aware of how Chan's ears are tinted pink.

"You could say that, yeah. He also spends time on my studio whenever he has the chance. And vice-versa." He shrugs, not finding it odd. You two were really good friends, so it was a normal thing for you to do. "Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." He mischievously laughs. "So, next week, you said?"

After a quick glance at the time on your phone, you decide to stand up and stretch your body. It's been a long time since you started working, and you still have a lot to do; and on top of it all, the progress you've made tonight doesn't totally convince you, and that just meant you'd be spending more time in the studio.

As you take your phone again to read your notes, a notification pops up on the top. You weren't supposed to meet up with Chan until later, but in the new message you just received, he tells you that he's free from working on his stuff and you could go earlier if you wanted.

You decide to go; after all, it was nearly impossible for you to concentrate again, and you truly needed to know what does he think about the tracks you sent him a few days ago to finally make an advance. So you grab your laptop after making sure you've saved the changes and the cup of half-drunk coffee, walking out to the long hall and taking the elevator to an upper floor.

The soles of your shoes are dragged across the floor all the way to the studio's door, where you softly knock a couple of times before remembering you already know the password to enter. Your fingers press the buttons, entering code you know by heart at this point, and the door quickly unlocks, making Chan to look your way and greet you with a smile.

"Hey, how have you been?" He sweetly says, seeing you entering the room and placing your belongings on top of the big desk in front of you and taking a seat on the couch behind him.

"Busy. And tired." You murmur and let out a sigh. Chan immediately plays a song at a low volume and takes seat next to you.

"You're still struggling with the track you told me about?"

You nod as an answer and pout, "I am desperate. It's like, no matter how many times I rewrite the lyrics or change the beats, it still doesn't convince me at all and I hate it."

"I get it," He sighs. "But don't worry about it, I'm here to help you out."

And Chan isn't someone who breaks his promises, so the following hours are spent listening to your music, carefully reading everything you've written so far, listening to your ideas and giving you advice.

In between work, he tells you every other joke to make you laugh and feel at least a bit less stressed; and it works wonderfully since he has a long list of dad jokes that take you off guard, plus his laughter is contagious, so not laughing with him is impossible.

It's no surprise that his advice and opinions are so accurate to the point of clearing your mind and helping you out of your creative block. Chan has always been hard-working and so good with words that every time you engage him in conversations, you feel more relaxed and less burdened. No matter what situation you had a problem with, Chan would always help you find the best solution for it. Maybe that's why you admire him so much, maybe it was one of the many reasons why you didn't hesitate for a second to go to him and find security in his presence and words... Maybe it was one of the thousands of reasons why you had romantic feelings towards him...

"Is it better now?" His voice takes you out of your thoughts. He's sweetly smiling at you; he probably realized you got lost on the way his lips were moving as he told you his thoughts on the recent draft of your song.

"Yeah, yes, honestly, you've helped me so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You smile and go for a quick hug, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Your fingers sliding between his soft and messy curls and making him fondly smile in the process. "You're my hero. I mean it."

Chan chuckles and can't keep his eyes off you as you type something on your laptop and hum. He recalls the conversation he had last week with Felix, and that ambiguous feeling settling on his chest makes him wonder if, after all, his friend was right. He doesn't remember when was the last time he felt the urge to hold someone in between his arms and dearly appreciate, and he wants to know why he smiles and feels his stomach tickling when he sees you.

Maybe it's because you spend a lot of time with him, a voice inside his head says. But he doesn't feel this way with any other friend.

Maybe it's because you have known him for a long time and you just appreciate him a lot, the voice tries again. Maybe. He finally gives in at the last thought. He'd have to figure it out.

His phone buzzes inside the pocket of his jeans and he takes it, knowing for sure it's a message from Felix.

"Felix is arriving in a few minutes." He murmurs, making you take your eyes off the screen. "He wants to listen to some songs I have, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's your studio, silly." You giggle. "I am almost done with this, so if you're gonna be busy I can go back to m-"

"You can stay, if you want to." He quickly adds. "Plus, he says he wants to see you, you know... He misses you." Chan laughs. He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to stay.

"Okay! Sure, I haven't heard from him in a while, either." You nod and keep making changes on the file you have open.

Just as he said, Felix enters the room just a few minutes later, smiling brightly and immediately running to give you a big hug once he sees you.

Soon, the room was filled with laughter and long conversations to catch up on everything around your lives. Felix tells you about the new pastries he baked last week and that he was waiting for you to come around and bake with him, the new video game Jeongin bought and has been playing with Hyunjin, the new songs Changbin and Jisung have been working on and how Seungmin was learning to play piano, playing songs at night for everyone at the dorm.

"And you know? Chan hyung has gotten better at flirting." He laughs as the latter gives him a threatening glare. "He can't stop saying pickup lines whenever he has the chance."

"Ah, really?" You chortle. "You haven't said one in all the time we've been here."

"Well, we've been working, and I've told you many other jokes... Besides, it's not like I come up with them out of nowhere."

"Yes, you do!" Felix says. "You do that all the time, what are you talking about?"

You glance at Chan, who's currently blushing and at the loss of words. Felix, on the other hand, seems to be happy to see what he just provoked. And he'd definitely enjoy every part of it.

"I want to hear one! C'mooon!" You laugh. "Please?"

Chan rolls his eyes and tries to look confident as he would normally do. He clears his throat and thinks of a good pickup line he hasn't used yet.

"Alright," He says and smiles, he even thinks it's gonna start laughing before even opening his mouth, but the very moment he looks into your eyes, it's like he forgot every single word on his vocabulary. "Uhm, are you, no. Did you-? Wait! I forgot what I was gonna say-"

Felix can't help but burst into laughter, and you only look at him, as if you couldn't believe it. Was he nervous or was it because of the fact that Felix was in the same room? Would it have been any different if he weren't there?

You end up laughing at Felix's loud laughter, as well as seeing Chan blushing up to his ears and hiding his face behind his hands, probably also in an attempt to cover the huge grin he now has.

"Wow, that was an epic failure. And I thought you were the biggest flirt on earth." Felix teases him, to which Chan ends up groaning.

He continues talking about other stuff while Chan stops feeling embarrassed, even though he's not able to look in your eyes for the entire time until you have to go back to work.

You close your laptop and stand up, throwing the now empty cup of coffee on the trash bin. After thanking Chan for his help and promising Felix you'd drop by their dorm soon, you walk out of the studio with a smile and feeling your heart beating fast. There was no way you didn't have feelings for him.

"Oh my god, so I was right!" Felix says a few seconds after you left. Chan's first instinct is to cover his face again. "Look who got nervous so suddenly."

"Stop, I- I don't even want to talk about it." He murmurs, feeling flustered and avoiding Felix's gaze. He types something on his laptop and presses the play button, hoping that this way, his friend would forget about what just happened and could focus solely on the music.

And Felix doesn't talk about it anymore. The next few minutes are set by the music coming out of the speakers; the room filling with Chan's voice, singing the love songs that probably no one else would listen to. Felix seems to be concentrating on the lyrics, but Chan's thoughts are solely about you. As he listens to the songs, he is aware of how his skin bristles every time his hands accidentally touch you, the times when your eyes connect with his and you give him smiles every time it happens, all those times when his heart would race when he hugged you.... It's as if all those songs that professed a love he said he didn't feel, started to make sense.

He feels overwhelmed. Maybe if he was aware of it before, maybe if he listened to his heart instead of his head, this wouldn't be a big revelation to him.

Chan pauses the music, and before Felix can ask what's going on, he speaks up: "Why- why did I do that?"

"Did... what, exactly?" Felix asks, confused.

"The pickup line thing!" He blurts out. "I mean, I do that all the time, right? Why did I just forget how to even talk?"

Felix giggles, "Well, have you considered it's because when you use those pickup lines on us you just do it for laughing? To joke around with us, and with Y/N it's because... I don't know, you have feelings for him and it gets real? Like you're flirting with him."

Makes sense, he thinks. He remains in silence for a moment, processing everything that just happened and finally connecting the dots.

"Wait, you just had your epiphany?" Felix jokes. "It took you too, too long."

"I can barely fall asleep, how was I supposed to know I was falling in love?"

"Fair enough." He says, comprehensive. "Are you telling him?"

"Should I?" Chan's eyes sparkle, but he still feels confused. Should he even try? It's been so long since he last felt this way about someone, and given the circumstances of his life as an idol, he felt more reluctant to take the next step. Even more, considering he had just taken the first one by accepting his feelings a few minutes ago.

"I was right all this time by you being in love," He says. "And I am also sure that it's mutual. I've seen you two for a while, you know? I am surprised you didn't come the realization way earlier than this."

Chan giggles. "Alright, I get it."

"But it's up to you now, I guess. All I know is that you deserve to be happy, and you deserve good things... And Y/N is a great person. You should give yourself an opportunity on love."

Chan feels chills as he hears those words. Tonight's even have been too much for him to process, so he'll think deeply about it later.

"Okay," He nods. "Thanks, Lix. You've been really helpful."

"I know, what would you do without me?" Felix laughs. "Now let's keep listening to the songs, I am loving all of them."

Fortunately, the help Chan gave you really made it possible for you to finish the songs in no time. You are just now walking out of a meeting with your managers and the people in charge of the release of the album to set the final details, and you quickly send a message to Chan to let him know the news.

In the meantime, you drop by your studio to clean up a little and maybe write down some ideas for new songs that have been in your mind for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a knock on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts and then feeling confused. You weren't expecting anyone to come. So you slowly open the door, and a smile spreads across your face the moment you realize it's Chan.

"Oh, hi!" You greet him with a hug, immediately letting him in afterwards. He shyly gets inside, taking a seat on a chair and placing a bag on the small table behind him. "What brings you here? I thought you were still busy with you guys upcoming album."

"It's okay, Changbin is working on his stuff now at the studio, so I took the chance to come here and celebrate with you!" He grins. "Congratulations on making your first self-produced album!"

He starts clapping, making you smile; he truly was the sweetest person you've ever met.

As soon as he read your message he went to the nearby cafeteria and bought your favorite drink and pastries, claiming that it was a special occasion and should be celebrated.

"For all your hard work and the success of this album!" He makes a toast as he raises his cup of tea.

Soon you find yourselves immersed in a long conversation about everything that went into creating this album; from when you had the first idea for the concept, to those sleepless nights when he helped you without hesitation. Chan was definitely an essential part of this whole process, so to be celebrating with him right now felt right. It was how it should be.

"You know," Chan clears his throat as another song starts playing. "These past days I've had this thought in my head, and after talking it out with Felix... I am certain about it. And I want to tell you about it. I know I have to."

You frown, feeling curiosity, especially since his semblance has changed to be a bit more serious. He still has a small smile that gives you some kind of tranquility, but another part of you can't help but feel nervous as he gets a little bit closer.

"Of course, what is it?"

"So, uhm" He starts. "Some weeks ago, when Felix came to the studio and we were talking with you... Well, the reason he came was because he wanted to listen to some love songs I've worked on. And, after listening to all of them I figured out why I didn’t like them. I was sure I wasn't in love. That's why, to me, they all sounded plain and didn’t convey the feeling of love... But then..."

He makes a pause, catching his breath as he feels more and more nervous. He knows for sure his ears and cheeks are red right now, and it's impossible that you haven't noticed it. His hands slightly shake behind the table, anxiously looking for yours, but refraining from doing it because he doesn't know how this was going to end. You don't want to interrupt him, so you give him his time to clear his head and talk again.

"While listening to those songs, the only thought I had in mind was you." He finally confesses, with his gaze now fixed on his lap. "I guess that for a while I didn’t realise that I started to, uhm, catch feelings for you. And, it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I just really wanted to let you know because the thought has been on my mind for so long and I needed to let it out."

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is your voice coming from the speakers along with a sigh from Chan, who still didn’t dare to look up and face you.

"So... what you're saying is..." You speak up, feeling incredibly shy, trying to process the words addressed to you.

"What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you."

And you swear you could start screaming to the top of your lungs right now, but you try your very best to stay calm and finally grab Chan's hands. With that, he looks at you again.

"Channie," You softly say, looking at him in his precious eyes and dearly smiling. You don't even know where to begin, but a voice inside you begs for you to give him a hug. So you open your arms and embrace him tightly, feeling instant comfort and love. "I am so glad you feel this way too. I love you too."

Chan sighs in relief, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer; his nose pressed against the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, melting between your arms and enjoying every single second of that gesture.

"Wait a minute," You say out of nowhere, so he separates a bit from you and tilts his head. "That's why you couldn't even say a sentence when you tried to say a pickup line?"

You laugh when his expression changes to look ashamed, his lips frowned in a pout and his gaze avoiding your eyes again.

"Try again, I'm sure you're good at this." And Chan's head only comes up with the dozens of lines he has read, but seeing you smiling right in front of him and your arms over his shoulders, he can only think how lucky he is. He can't possibly say anything to you. "Alright, let me try instead."

You hum and recall all the pickup lines you've read and have been told before, "Hm, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll return it."

And you expected Chan to start laughing out loud, instead he starts blushing again and giggling, covering his face as he feels nervous.

"C'mon! Seriously?" You laugh and wait for him to stop being shy.

"You make me nervous, give me time." He excuses himself and laughs some more. "That was a good one, and you know what? You can borrow all the kisses you want, as long as you keep your word and return them."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!"

Chan fondly smiles at you, placing his hand on your head to pet your hair for a moment. You close your eyes as he does it, feeling his soft touch traveling all the way down to your chin. He rests his thumb on your cheek and after a few seconds you decide to open your eyes.

"Can I?" He murmurs as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips.

"You don't even have to ask."

And just as you give him permission, he breaks the distance between you two. He starts carefully, placing his lips against yours in a tender, chaste way, barely there pressure that makes you exhale through your nose as if you had been holding your breath all along. One of his hands still holds you by the waist, so he takes the opportunity to slide it to your lower back, carefully holding you and sending you shivers to your entire body.

You lean forward barely a few millimeters, but it's enough to feel more pressure over your lips. Chan angles his head and traps your bottom lip, tongue trying to dart out of his mouth to taste more of the sweetness of yours. He, however, contains himself and smiles in between the kiss, instead. He was probably gonna be the death of you.

The deep kiss loses intensity as a minute passes by, so you two end up giving smaller kisses and share smiles, your noses constantly touching in skimo kisses. And you think it's perfect; it's way better than what you one day imagined.

Chan can't miss the chance to make you sit on his lap, so now your head rests over his chest. Your fingers fidgeting the hem of his hoodie and shyly longing to intertwine your hands.

"Hey, Y/N?" He grabs your attention and smiles. "Are you a parking ticket?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because you've got fine written all over you." He ends up with a muffled laughter.

"Oh no, what did I just get myself into?" You joke around, this time finally making him burst into a louder laughter. "You just declared war on me about pickup lines, you know?"

"Oh, so you got some lines, too? Can't wait to hear all of them, then."

And for the rest of the day you let yourself be held in between the arms of the person you loved the most. Later you'd find the way to flirt with him and make him feel flustered when he least expects it.

[catalists]

Prompt meme! :D Shadowgast, "Did you throw the first punch?"

"Did you throw the first punch?" Caleb's pretty sure he's never heard quite that tone out of Essek before--something between disbelief and amusement.

 "You saw me do it," Caleb points out. He can't bite back the grimace; talking pulls at his injured cheek, but then so does wincing. 

 Essek hesitates, but then presses the full flat of his hand to the rapidly-darkening bruise on Caleb's face, just below his left eye. Caleb starts to flinch back--maybe even say what the fuck, Essek--but his hand is like ice, initially shocking but quickly fading to a pleasant numbness. 

"Thank you," Caleb mumbles into Essek's hand. 

 "You are very reckless when you drink," Essek says. 

 "I'm not drunk," Caleb objects. He isn't; he is only just starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, a once-pleasant buzz that has been unfortunately curbed by the sobering influence of being punched in the face. 

 "Then I look forward to the explanation as to why you would attempt to start a bar fight perfectly sober," Essek says, his tone almost as icy as his hand. 

 "He said--" 

"I heard what he said," Essek interrupts. His eyes dart past Caleb, and Caleb also chances a look over his shoulder, which is when he's sure Essek isn't really mad at him, because the icy fingers follow him as he moves. "Caleb, if you insist on fistfighting anyone who has ill feelings about drow we will never make it to Alfield, let alone Nicodranas, and your opponents will number the better part of your countrymen besides." 

The man who Caleb hit is having his bloody nose tended by the woman he came with; she briefly makes eye contact with Caleb before looking away. The fight would have probably gotten ugly, if Essek hadn't thrown up a wall of force between them as soon as the man wound up for a second punch, giving the bartender a chance to intervene. Said bartender is a dragonborn, which Caleb guesses was their real saving grace--the lack of tolerance for prejudice, at least in the form of loud slurs being drunkenly shouted across the room at her other customers, means she didn't throw them out. 

 "You think I should stay quiet?" Caleb says. "That is how this is allowed to continue. It is not fair to you." 

 "While you know I admire your ceaseless desire for fairness," Essek says, his tone dry as bone, "This continues because that is how the world works. I have been around a fair bit longer than you. This enmity has been around longer still than me. Our people have always been in conflict, and yours have hated the drow since before we stepped into the light." He shrugs lightly, as though he is not speaking of the stuff of wars, the prejudice of centuries. "It is the basic principle of inertia. We continue in our existing states." 

"Unless acted upon by an outside force," Caleb points out. The woman still won't look at him, so he turns back to face Essek. Essek withdraws his hand briefly, but only to renew the spell, and his fingers resettle, cupping Caleb's face. 

"A sufficient one," Essek says, "Yes. And while I admire your faith in your own, ah, physical prowess--" 

Caleb flushes. "Yes, alright. I see your point." 

"Good," Essek says. 

"I do not like it, though," Caleb says, lowly. "This journey--it is not a punishment for you, Essek. If you are met with nothing but unkindness...it is never too late." In explanation, he mimes part of the somatic component of a teleportation spell. 

 "Do not fear," Essek says. "I am having a good time." 

 "Are you?" 

 "I am with you," Essek says. "That makes up for a great deal." 

 "Even when I'm starting bar fights?" Caleb asks. 

 It took him a long time to be able to see it, but now he is able to catch the subtle change in Essek's dark skin when he blushes. 

 "What?" Caleb leans forward. 

 "It was very attractive," Essek drops his voice as he admits it, so that Caleb wouldn't be able to hear if they weren't practically nose to nose across the table. "But please don't take that as encouragement to do it again." 

 Caleb laughs; Essek's blush deepens and he hides his face in his free hand but doesn't pull away the other, and Caleb reaches across the table to pry it off his face and hold it. 

 "You're insufferable," Essek says, entirely too fondly. 

 "So are you," Caleb says. "So it is a good fit." 

 "True enough," Essek agrees. "Are you done?" 

 "I think I had better be," Caleb says. There's still a tension in the air, even though everyone has remained at their separate tables; better to go upstairs to their room before it ignites again. "I did think this evening would go, ah. Differently." 

"It's fine." Essek finally releases Caleb's face as they stand together. "I have a better idea for how to spend it."

[miyagihawk]

why’d you only call me when you’re high? pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

here’s part 2 by popular demand! based off the arctic monkeys song and amazing request by @deadbeatharlz <3 thank you guys for the support on part 1 im so happy you liked it :)

warnings: self harming behavior, LOTS of swearing, alcohol and drug abuse, sooo so angstyyyy buckle up

summary: it’s been 3 months since your last night with hawk, and you haven’t been yourself.

word count: 3,062



The past 3 months have been rough. Maybe the worst you’ve ever been. You fell into the deep hole that you dug yourself. The hole of loving Hawk Moskowitz.

You never thought you’d be one of those people who let unrequited love devastate their whole being. In fact you always thought the whole heartbreak thing was pathetic and melodramatic. Until it happened to you.

You hate yourself for letting him have this effect on you. But there’s a pestering voice in the back of your mind that reminds you: it’s all your fault. He didn’t ask you to love him. It’s just easier to blame him for your downfall.

Parties, drugs, alcohol. Sex with people you don’t even know. High on the same drug that compelled him to call you in the night.

You’ve become so desperate to forget him that you ruined yourself. It hurts your pride to be the whiny heartbroken girl who let a stupid boy’s rejection shatter her self worth. But the hole is too deep and there’s no hope trying to grasp onto the dirt walls to get out.

The worst part of it is that he sees it all. At school, (if you even go) he looks at you like the scum of the earth as he passes by with his little karate gang. When you end up at the same party, he’ll have a disgusted expression on his face and leave as if he can’t bare to look at you. 

Tonight is one of those nights, and you watch him from across the backyard as he goofs around with his friends. He hasn’t noticed you yet, hence why he’s even still here and not on his way out the door to get away from you.

“If you stare at him any longer, I think he’ll shoot up into flames,” your best friend Robby hands you a cup, and you don’t hesitate before downing its unknown contents. The burn in your throat makes you hum with content.

“That’s the plan,” you take your eyes of off Hawk to look at Robby. You gesture to his own cup in his hand, “Are you gonna drink that?”

“Easy there, Y/N. We got here 5 minutes ago,” he warns, but holds out the drink towards you anyway. Robby’s always been worried about you and your habits, but he knows how you can be when you’re told no.

You swallow down the drink in a few seconds, ignoring his remark. “5 minutes? I can beat my record!” you cheer sarcastically, and start walking to the kitchen in search of a keg. Robby follows closely behind you, a wary look on his face.

The fuzzy feeling starts to take over your body as you throw back drink after drink. It’s the buzz you crave every second of every day because it just makes you feel so good. Everything is happier and your cares feel so far away. Hawk feels so far away.

You sit on the couch next to Robby in your dazed trance, drunkenly rambling to him about random things. He glares at anyone who comes near you and looks like they would take advantage of you in your state.

Robby really hates you like this, but he can’t help but feel protective over you. He’s not even a fan of parties; he really only goes to keep an eye on you. You’re grateful even though you act like you hate it when he babysits you.

“Heyyy pretty Y/N! Want some?” Yasmine approaches where you sit, a joint held between her fingers. Her eyes are drooped and she sways as she stands.

You reach out to take the blunt, but you feel Robby push your arm down. “You’re already drunk. That’s enough,” he says sternly, making you roll your eyes.

“I can do what I want, Dad,” you taunt, and take the joint from Yasmine. Smoke fills up your lungs, immediately giving you pleasure. Robby just shakes his head in disapproval as the air around him becomes hazy.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Stay here,” he orders, getting up from the couch.

You nod, but of course, you don’t listen. The sound of splashing from outside sets off a lightbulb above your head and you feel like you’re floating while you walk to the backyard.

Right as you step out of the house, you make eye contact with none other than Hawk. He gives you a distasteful look like always, before turning back to his group. Asshole.

You just scoff and stumble towards the pool, where a couple is making out and a few people are drunkenly playing with the water like little kids.

Reaching the edge of the pool’s rim, you let yourself fall in with a splash. You feel the pressure in your ears start to build as you sink to the bottom. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re cross faded, but being underwater feels like a world of bliss.

The loud music of the party is muted, creating a sense of serenity. The legs of the other people in the pool make you laugh to yourself, sending bubbles from your mouth to the surface. It’s glittery and pretty and you want to stay forever.

You don’t know how long you’re under there for, but you don’t notice your lungs running out of air. It just feels good to be alone for a second. Next thing you know, you feel your eyes start to droop closed; a strange peace overcoming your body.

A loud thrashing noise in the water makes you wake up with a gasp. You swallow too much water as you feel someone grab hold of your arm. It’s all a blur and you’re being pulled up to the surface, taking you away from the tranquil world you were just in.

The music is pounds against your ears again and the air is cold on your skin. You feel your body being laid down on the concrete of the poolside, but everything feels numb. You just feel sleepy and you want to close your eyes again.

“Y/N, hey, wake up. Wake up,” a voice makes your eyes shoot back open. Someone is looking down at you, with a hand shaking your shoulder. Your vision is somewhat blurry, but the mohawk gives it away. It’s him.

You suddenly become aware of the large amount of water in your lungs and you turn over to your side to cough it up. After you get it all out, you notice the people at the party looking at you with eyes of pity mixed with judgement.

“What the fuck were you doing? You could’ve died, are you fucking stupid?” Hawk curses, but even in your inebriated state you can hear a hint of worry in his voice.

You sit up to face him. He looks angry; his clothes and hair are as wet as yours.

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen in your brain, or maybe it’s the marijuana and alcohol, but you just feel the urge to laugh. So you do. Like a complete maniac. The way he probably just saved your life like he cares is sickly comedic to you.

His face twists in confusion as you break out into a fit of giggles. “Are you serious? You’re fucking insane, Y/N,” he gets up, shaking his head at you. He gives a glare to the people staring, and they look away in fear.

You think he’s going to leave like usual, but he surprises you by grabbing your arm to pull you up. People whisper amongst themselves as he drags you through the backyard, going through a gate that leads to front of the house. You trip over your own feet, still feeling dizzy from almost drowning, but he just pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you ask, tugging on your arm to try and release it from the tight grip he has on you. You’re both dripping chlorinated water, leaving a track of drops on the concrete below.

“You’re going home Y/N,” he says sternly. You two arrive at his car and he opens the passenger door. “Get in.”

“Hey!” a voice yells from the house and you both turn to see Robby rushing towards the car. He looks pissed, and now you remember him telling you to stay put. Shit.

“Robby I-”

“Don’t get in there with him Y/N,” he says, sending a death stare to the boy next to you.

“I’m taking her home, Keene, so back the fuck off. Get in Y/N,” Hawk snaps, clenching his fists.

You keep quiet, not wanting to add to the fire already starting. They loathe each other; if not because of the karate rivalry, then because of you. To Robby, Hawk broke your heart and made you spiral. To Hawk, Robby is the piece of shit who he thinks is your boyfriend, and he won’t admit it but he’s jealous.

“You’re not driving her, asshole. You’re probably as drunk as her,” Robby reaches to take your arm, but Hawk pulls you back.

“You don’t know shit about me, Keene. I’ve been sober for three months, so yeah, I will drive her,” Hawk picks you up like you’re a doll, placing you in the passenger seat and closing the door. You don’t resist, you just feel tired and your head starts to pound as if the mix of drugs in your system are punishing you. The window’s down, so you can still hear the two boys loud and clear.

I’ve been sober for three months, his voice echoes in your head.

“Oh so now you care so much about her? It’s your fault she’s like this!” Robby raises his voice even more, starting to move towards Hawk threateningly. You begin to feel scared that a physical fight might actually break out, but you don’t know what to do.

“I’m not the one who almost let her die a few minutes ago, am I? Just fuck off, we’re leaving,” Hawk dismisses him, walking around the car to the driver’s seat. You’re surprised by his self control to not throw a punch, especially with his reputation.

“Robby, it’s okay. I just want to go home. I’ll call you, alright?” you reach your hand out of the window in reassurance and he takes hold of it. Hawk clenches his jaw as he turns on the engine.

“Promise you’ll be careful? I’m sorry I left you,” Robby furrows his eyebrows in worry. When he came out of the bathroom, someone filled him in on what happened to you and he almost had a heart attack.

“Promise. And it’s my fault,” you hook your pinky with his, before the car pulls out of the curb and separates you from your best friend. He watches you guys drive away, an anxious expression etched on his face.

The whole situation has sobered you up pretty well, and now you’re left with a throbbing headache, wet clothes, and awkward tension. You hate it. Being sober. You miss the foggy feeling that prevents you from thinking too hard about things. But now you’re inches away from the boy who broke your heart, all by choice.

You don’t know why you agreed to go with him, but did you even have a choice? You’re confused by his actions. He acts like he hates you but he jumps in a pool for you. He yelled at you but he’s driving you home. It all makes you overthink and it causes your head to ache even more.

You hold your head in your hands to try and ease the pain as Hawk drives quietly.

“You good?” he breaks the silence. His voice is softer compared to how he talked to Robby minutes ago.

“Head hurts,” you mumble.

“What were you doing back there? If I didn’t get you out, you’d probably be in the hospital right now,” he says. You peek at him through your hands and his eyes are on the road.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It was just peaceful. I didn’t really even think about breathing.”

He scoffs. “Well that’s just fucking stupid. You’re lucky I noticed you were under for so long.”

“Well thanks,” you reply quietly, feeling like a little kid being scolded.

There’s a couple beats of silence before he speaks, “What happened to you?”

The question makes you sit up and look over at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The old Y/N wouldn’t even touch a drink. You’re different,” Hawk taps his finger on the wheel in thought. His icy blue eyes quickly glance at your confused look before returning to the road.

“You happened, Hawk.” You pinch your temples in frustration. Anger starts to bubble up in your stomach at his criticism. At the mention of “old you”.

“I didn’t do this to you,” he shakes his head, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

“You did,” you raise your voice, making him flinch. “You know it.”

“What, because I stopped sleeping with you? I didn’t make you fall in love with me, Y/N. You did that to yourself,” he spits, sending a knife to your heart and making you see red.

“You knew I loved you way before I said it. But you still stringed me along, didn’t you? You knew I would pick up everytime you called. You knew that I would let you into my bed because I was the girl who loved you no matter how fucking shitty you were!” you fire back, vomiting out words that you’ve wanted to say for months. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder than usual, but you’re grateful for it.

He’s at a loss for words at your outburst so you continue, “I didn’t ask for this Hawk. Loving you. I’m sorry that I’m such a burden and that you hate me so much that you can’t stand being in the same room as me. But please just answer me this and I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll leave when we show up at the same party and I’ll even hide in the halls so you don’t have to see my face.”

You pause, choking on your words. You didn’t even realize that the car is already parked in front of your house and your clothes are halfway dry.

“Why don’t you love me?” your voice cracks as you spit out the question that has caused you to throw yourself away. The question with an answer that could dissipate your self worth in a mere moment.

Hawk finally looks into your glassy eyes with shock. He could’ve never anticipated what you asked him and his mouth runs dry.

“I told you, I- I don’t deserve someone like you loving me,” he swallows, but you shake your head.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He blinks slowly, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse, to avoid telling you the truth. You can see the inner conflict on his face, the panicked speed of his running thoughts.

“You should go home, Y/N,” he deflects, turning away from you. Putting on his mask to keep you from reading him like a book.

“I’m not going until you tell me,” you demand.

“Just get out of the car, fuck!” Hawk yells, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. It makes you jump a little, but you’re too angry to fear the flames in his eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me!” you fire back. “You came to me almost every night, so why do I feel something that you don’t? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you want me to fucking say Y/N! That I do love you? Fucking fine. I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Just get out.”

I love you.

The same words you said that made him leave.

“You don’t even mean that,” you blink back your tears.

His voice is softer now, more gentle. “If I didn’t mean it then I wouldn’t have said it.”

“You said you needed me and then you left me,” your voice shakes and you hate how pathetic you sound.

“I-I didn’t leave you,” he stammers before taking a deep breath. “I left because you wanted something more than I could give you. I would’ve felt like a selfish asshole if we became more than just sex, Y/N. You deserve someone like Keene and yeah he’s a pussy but he’s good. Better than me.”

It feels like every piece in the puzzle is being put together. Everything makes sense. He does love you, but he was just afraid. He can’t be near you because it hurts too much to see someone he can’t have. Somehow, you can’t find the anger you’ve held against him for these past months; you just understand him now.

“I’m sorry, alright? For everything. For treating your feelings like shit. All of it.”

You swallow, thinking about his words. It all feels too much and the truth is now looking you in the eye, demanding an answer. You love him, but he dropped your heart on the floor for you to pick up every shard. Is one sorry going to magically fix everything?

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit, and he nods in understanding.

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just... move on. And you get better... I hate seeing you like this,” Hawk scans your red eyes and dilated pupils. “We’ll get to a better place and you and me, we’ll be good.”

It’s bittersweet, but he’s right. Being together now just because he loves you back would be a huge jump that would only end in broken hearts and toxic cycles. It would be foolish. As much as you want him, the only person who can fix you is yourself.

So it’s a meet up at the top of the mountain, when you’ve both made the journey from opposite sides.

“A better place,” you reiterate, before placing a light kiss to his cheek and leaving the car with a new sense of closure.

a/n: that was longer than i planned and a freaking roller coaster!!!!!!! im not sure if there should be a part 3? lmk what you think maybe it’ll just be short. but hehe i added robby into the mix he was so cute. ty for reading!

taglist for people who wanted part 2 :) ty friends for the support <3 @littlered6307 @deadbeatharlz @spiderman-berries @axastasiasstuff @r0-xie @estupidteen @hawkwhore @idkwhatishouldput4

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.