#LY ZOOMS IN YOU DONT HAVE TO DO THIS TO YOURSELF THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE TRYONG TO DO YOU ARE TRUING TO STOP OVER RENDERING THIS IS PURPOSFUL

[zroqravity]

She's so pretty I'm going to explode what did I do that for

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

i cant focus because i cant keep you out of my head.

5 times james potter got distracted because of you.

warnings: overly dramatic james || 3.3k words || james potter x you || fluff fluff fluff, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: this is the first work i’ve posted on this fandom, i have alot planned!! so please dont be shy and drop some messages! i also feel like i have to clarify, any dialogues that’s italicized means james isn’t listening

i. missing his games

“and another bludger hits potter on the shoulder! it is not his night folks! will this be an opportunity for hufflepuffs to get ahead?” the speaker hisses, loudly echoing throughout the field. along with the empathetic oohs of the crowd.

james groans rubbing his shoulder quickly, for what seemed like the nth time tonight, before going into the scoring formation as practiced.

usually, he wouldn’t even hear the commentator during the game, he would be too into the game to notice any other noise other than his own breathing . but tonight’s game is different.

tonight, you weren’t there watching him.

he knows this for a fact, as he had been continuously looking in the stands. his focus foregoing the incoming buldgers, instead hoping to catch a glimpse of your messy hair and the abundant layer of clothes, you always wear to combat the cold in the stands. his eyes would quickly scan through the students, in hopes to spot you cheering and grinning as you have always had.

he had circled the area you usual vacant four times now, and still no sign of you anywhere.

he could hear geoffrey shouting at him to focus, zooming past him with the quaffle at hand. he could practically hear the hissing complaints and grumbles of minnie in the stands but when he fails to see you, he’s not inclined to care at all.

“james! what in the bloody hell are you doing?!” he could hear marlene shriek in frustration as he skidded to a stop, and pondered your whereabouts.

where were you?

you had always watched his games. always. even when you two were fighting or not talking to each other, you would always be there cheering him on.

he was sure you weren’t in detention, professors were usually more lenient during quidditch season. not to mention you don’t really get into much mischief as he, himself does.

“mckinnon scores even with a distracted captain!”

merlin, were you sick? is that why you were a no-show? he had heard you sniffling the other day, but you said you were fine. james knew that you rarely ever get sick, but when you do—it was the worst it could ever be.

knowing you, you had probably reassured your friends that you were fine and to leave you be. you never did know how to take care of yourself. so, james being the self-appointed best friend takes this responsibility of nursing you back to health very seriously.

he was about to go fly over your dormitory window and help you but then a heavy speeding bludger came speeding into his way. he had barely dodged the thing and suddenly all the noises of the game came rushing back into his ears.

right, he thinks. he should probably finish this first and then go see you straight after.

ii. passing notes with a person that isn’t him

james was having a particularly pissy day.

when he had the epiphany on why you had missed his game. james had rushed points after points, in hopes to end the game as quickly as possible. the game ending with gryffindor as the winner, by 120 points.

never mind celebrating, he hadn’t even thought of the fact he had broken an all-time scoring record in a single game and came rushing to your dorms. thoughts of you lying sick in bed, swimming in his mind.

but you weren’t lying sick in bed.

in fact, you weren’t in the dorms at all. or the common room. or the library. or the hospital wing. or even in the entire bloody castle (he checked). not only were you not in breakfast, the morning after the game you didn’t watch. now, he has the pleasure of seeing you blush and fuss, passing notes with a bloke from ravenclaw during potions.

“now this is detrimental to the potion, some have lost fingers when they neglected this step so pay attention—“

when did you even meet this guy? you were always hanging out with james. so it’s rare for him to see you with somebody he hasn’t met before.

especially, someone this ugly.

“who’s the arse talking to y/n.” james whispered harshly to sirius.

sirius, who for once, was listening in class had to stop and look at james with a confused look, from the sudden conversation.

james gave no clarification, his eyes still glaring heavily at the offending sight.

ah, sirius thought. an almost laugh leaving his mouth. “that’s charlie wilson, i reckon.” sirius whispered back. fighting the strong urge to grin as he added, “birds quite fancy him, i heard. something about how dreamy the lad is or something.” twirling his quill. already satisfied with the impending chaos he had stirred.

meanwhile james could hardly sit still, seconds away from erupting. he scoffs when he sees you blush.

pale hair, pale eyes and an even paler skin. he looked like a white bedsheet, is what he is! nothing dreamy about a bedsheet! james certainly hadn’t thought his bedsheets dreamy. surely you hadn’t either!

“failure to follow these steps strictly can be harmful.” slughorn droned on.

but it was nothing but a buzzing noise to james, as he feels the sudden urge to grab the silly paper full of your beautiful handwriting and his chicken scrawls and rip it to shreds.

iii. going to hogsmeade without him

james was forced into the trip to hogsmeade by remus. claiming some rubbish about how james has become a shell of a man, or how he dampens the mood. and some borderline blasphemous statement about how snivellus seems to be better company than him lately.

so to prove all the nay-sayers wrong, here he was trudging along the stoned pathway. looking gloomy as ever, as his friends drag him from store to store.

nothing seemed to be cheering him up, remus had thought. but james have always had the flare for the dramatics, so remus wasn’t too worried. instead continued on like his friend isn’t unraveling like the threads in an old sweatshirt.

“why am i even here?” james had groaned, eliciting an amused smirk from sirius and a wry smile from remus.

he was on the verge of insanity, really he was. when he sees it in his peripheral. the unquestionably familiar layers of clothing and your giddy smile as you went into a bookstore with the same gremlin from class.

stopping abruptly, garnering the attention of his friends and walked briskly to the store. offering no sort of explanation, but his mates followed anyway. having seen you enter too. busybodies as they are, they’re curious how this will play out.

“it’s the same lad,” hummed sirius, peeking through the door.

remus raised a brow, interest piqued. “same lad? what’d you mean?”

“wilson was having a quick bants with our dear y/n the other day.”

“really now,”

sirius wolfishly grinned, “you reckon y/n fancies him?”

james scoffed, sounding very closely to a growl. “as if.”

“now, james, no need to be narky.” remus teased.

all three hiding two shelves away from you. james couldn’t hear you but he could see you through the crack of the books, if he crouched down. he saw your mouth moving and smiling. a view, he realized he hadn’t seen in a while.

“now that i think about, y/n hasn’t been around lately, has she?” remus had voiced, his tone feigning an air of innocence and ignorance.

sirius, then followed suit, rubbing his chin looking forlorn. “now that you mention it moony, that sounds about right.”

“prongs,” they called out, hoping to see james puff out, red in the face and stomp away like a petulant child. but instead their teasing was met with silence.

he couldn’t believe this! you haven’t spoken a word to him all week and here you were cozying up to a practical stranger! yous had the audacity to even laugh at whatever pathetic excuse of a joke he just said to you. albeit, he hadn’t heard the joke but he sure it was trash either way.

“think we lost him padfoot.” remus snickered at the glowering and helpless look james had etched on his face.

the two of you walking to the counter, holding piles of parchments and paints and laughing and blushing and standing way too close to each other.

really, have you no shame?

iv. biting your lips

james had a mission. to finally talk to you after two weeks of radio silence. to corner you, no matter what, and demand explanation for your recent rendezvous and the lack of his presence with said rendezvous.

but you were making it hard for him to find you, let alone talk to you. he can’t seem to find you in the map anywhere either. lately not finding you and not talking has becoming an unwelcome norm for him.

classes you two shared was almost non-existent since all of the classes you attended were all advanced classes.

he had hoped that during potions would be the time to talk to you but before he could even say hello to you, chalk had taken your attention and quickly pulled him down to sit with you during class.

you always seemed to be whispering about something whenever he sees you two. heads close to one another and soft laughter always leaving your lips. it’s like you didn’t even notice you haven’t talked to him for weeks now.

“oh there you are james! i wanted to discuss some strategy for the finals against slytherins.” john bell going into spiel of his tactics for the game.

did he do something that put you off? i mean, yeah, you two were only friends but he was hoping that he was starting to be more than that to you. at least, the same way that you became more for him too.

or was it just him?

“i heard evermonde complaining during breakfast that regulus black had to sit out of the game because he’s sick. so they replaced their seeker with a total novice!” bell excitedly recounted the information, unaware that their captain couldn’t be bother to listen at all.

if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, then you should’ve said so in the first place. instead of making him look like a fool!

and like some sort of miracle there you were at the end of the hall, alone.

breathing in deep and gathering all the courage of gryffindors and marched over to you with purpose and bouts of confidence blazing in his eyes.

“james, mate!” bell called over to james, his voice like water off of a dolphin’s back.

he was a bout to tell you off, maybe along the lines of how could you? or why did you miss my games? you always watch my games. or am i even your friend anymore? do like hanging with that cauliflower more than me? does he even play quidditch? can he even turn into a stag? is he even that funny. i bet i’m funnier.

“y/n!” he beckoned, jogging over to you in a hurry. you turned, books held tightly to your chest.

“james,”

once he was in front of you, breathing in deep. staring into your eyes and seeing your soft pillowy cheeks and soft smiles.

“how are you?” you breathed, shifting from one foot to the other.

he inhaled, how are you? after weeks of nothing—! he was about to tell you off real good but he forgot a crucial thing.

the slight tension and silence makes you nervous, so rather blabbing about nonsense to fill the silence, you opt to bite your lips and cheeks instead.

suddenly all thoughts seem to fly away from james. your nervous habit becoming more important to him rather than letting you how he feels. it seemed more interesting to him than anything he had ever seen before.

which was crazy, because this wasn’t the first time you did this! or is it because you haven’t been around lately that made his immunity to your distracting quirk lessened?

eventually the silence became way too unbearable, not to mention the staring from james getting too intense. you just had to get out of this really weird and quiet interaction.

“well, james, i have to go now.” you gave a polite and shaky smile, “see you ‘round.”

v. when you watch his games.

today was the last game of the season. everyone on the team was buzzing with nerves and excitement. john bell had made it his mission to let everyone know of what he learned about slytherin yesterday.

“ambrose greengrass is going to play seeker for the time being.”

sirius snorted out a laugh, “greengrass can barely get on his broom!”

“well talkalot was desperate for replacement so soon before the game.”

dawson rolled her eyes and smirked, “well, whoever they send out we’re still going to beat the crap of them!”

the team cheered in agreement.

sirius noticed the lack of quips from james, like he usually does before each games. he sighed, already knowing the root of it. if his mate’s wanly expression had anything to say about it.

going up to his broom at hand and grabbing james’ shoulder, shaking him rather roughly. as if to physically wake him up out of stupor.

“mate, this is your first finals as captain, what the hell are you doing moping like some grandma?”

james looked up and saw the entire team looking at him. breathing in deep. “you’re right, pads.” grabbing his broom and bellowing in his loudest voice, “let’s win this!”

as much as it pains james, he had to forgot about you for a moment and focus on the game. his teammates are counting on him. chanting in his mind that it wouldn’t matter if you were out there or not.

although a very tiny voice, had called out this lie.

it had already been 30 minutes in the game when you had finally arrived. a fragile thing held gently in your hands.

“john bell knocked out euane evermonde with a bludger!” you can hear the announcer scream, a disbelieving laughter echoing. “30 minutes into the game, it’s a blood bath out here folks!”

the crowds surrounding you in the stand were going wild with screams. the players zooming back and forth as they exchanged the quaffle. you looked up and saw james in the air, the wind tousling his already messy hair into knots. he was shouting orders to his team. eyes busy chasing players, all the while dodging bludgers too.

when he flew close enough to your area in the stands, you can see him subtly check out the crowd. your face warming against the cold at the thought of what you are about to do. his eyes quickly meeting yours and then physically stopping his slow glide in the air. as if he couldn’t believe you were there.

biting your cheek and slowly raising the large parchment, the written words charmed to glow and change every few seconds the words: i like you james potter! and go and win this!!! showing up interchangeably.

you watch him look at you dumbfounded until a dazzling grin erupted on his face once he read the words.

you see him spread his arms, and point at himself abashed, as if saying, me? you like me?

and you nodding exaggeratedly.

feeling the flurry of butterflies in your stomach watching him whoop and laugh twisting and looping on his broom. as if re-energized. you laugh too, his mirth too infectious. the others in the stand with you looks at the parchment in wonder and cheer along with you.

you can hear geoffrey shout profanities at james seeing him steady in the air not moving away form your sight, “not this again potter!”

it had taken you two weeks to finish this little project, the idea coming from a muggleborn friend that said they used to do posters when they watch games like these. that’s when you decided to do the same for james.

at first it was only supposed to be a simple parchment with words to cheer james on, for his first game as captain, against the hufflepuffs. but you decided to make it even more special and unforgettable.

granted, you weren’t all that creative in terms of crafts, so you enlisted a ravenclaw to help you put it all together. as much as you didn’t want to, you had to forgo watching the game so you can have some moment alone to get the poster started.

you were confident enough to know that the gryffindors will win and go straight to the finals. with hundreds of students coming to watch the game, you knew james wouldn’t notice your absence.

so the entire week you had committed your time into creating your first poster. trying desperately to hide your activities from james to surprise him. and when you had ran out of materials, you had gone to hogsmeade with charlie to guide you on what you should buy.

you knew james had caught on your weird behaviours. you were sure simple words from him and little pleas would get you to spill the beans but thankfully he had been distracted enough by something else that opened a way for you to leave.

now, here you were clutching the paper like a lifeline, the words you had written with so much care glowing through the fog. you had even drawn james on his broomstick along with his wild hair and glasses askew on his face. although charlie had helped draw it much nicer and life-like. each line moving and dancing across the paper to capture his attention.

with a new sense of motivation, james started to play the game the best he had ever played. zooming right above your area in the stand with a quaffle in his hand and a wink your way, he easily maneuvers over the other players and score.

with the slytherin keeper gone he had easily gathered up score after score.

and each time he did, he would stop a couple of feet in front of you and do a victory dance of some sort, eliciting a giggle and wide giddy smiles from you.

the crowd going crazier and crazier as james seemed like an unstoppable force in the field. eventually the brutal game ended with gryffindor as the winner by 530 points. breaking an all-time record.

gryffindors with some ravenclaws and hufflepuffs scatter to the field to celebrate the win. grabbing unto james, patting him on the shoulder, messing up his hair even more and cheering his name.

even with everyone around him, he managed to lock eyes with you again. quickly pushing other off him and running to you, a smile etched on his face.

you barely had anytime to prepare yourself as a sweaty, large, giddy man hurdled towards you. but james ever so gentle with you, grabbed your waist and lifted you up from the ground, twirling you around, looking at you with absolute glee. you can hear wolf whistles from the others but james barely acknowledges them.

he sets you down, hands still firmly on your side. the parchment now folded haphazardly, clutching it to your chest. wrinkling his nose in a low chuckle before looking down at the paper. “is this why you’ve yet to speak a word with me?”

you breathed, suddenly embarrassed. “i’ve been perfecting this for two weeks.” looking down on the paper leaning into him just a tad bit more, “i ran into some trouble with making the text stay on the parchment rather than fly away.” you muttered, cheeks aflame.

looking up at him through your lashes, having half a nerve to look bashful. “did you like it?”

“like it?” he scoffed, “i bloody loved it,” he grinned, forehead now leaning into yours.

you grin up at him, unaware of the still swirling questions he had for you. but for now holding each other like this, is enough answer for him.

[devilsainz]

It all started with a joke (Charlos one-shot)

second time trying to make sense of these charlos thoughts in my head. I dont take myself seriously so no one should take my writing skills either. I do these mostly for me, when i feel like it. English is not my first language either and i barely reviewed what i wrote so... read at your own risk.

.....

It all started with a joke.

"Hey, did you heard what everyone is saying about us? That we are the most handsome driver pairing in f1 history." Carlos said with a teasing smile that only handsome men that know theyre handsome men know, while he was scrolling through his phone, sitting in that red couch, in the free time they found when working together .

Charles giggled in return while he was in a distance from him, "come on, lets focus on the performance on the car for now, carlos, please!"

"No i was just saying, cabron, i think it might give us a boost, you know? in our confidence, and even better our ~performance~"

"you just love yourself too much dont you?" Charles said shaking his head lightly.

"Ehm... ok, now ill be serious. But its quite funny, i guess. i still feel flustered by it, actually, when the girls call me guapo out loud sometimes... i just try to get used to it joking, you know".

"I mean, theyre not lying. Youre indeed a very handsome, aaah- how do you say it? Cabron. A very handsome cabron, i'll give you that."

"Ok connoisseur of beauty, gracias for the compliment even though you just called me a bastardo"

"I cant make you get used to much to it, mate.-"

"Maaate! What are these people on?" Carlos said with a cackle in his throat.

"Ok, now you got me curious, bastardo, let me see what are you-"

"~he looks at him like he wanna kiss him so bad~" carlos said mocking in a over sweet toned voice.

"Oooh my god, these people are really going crazy nowadays" Charles commented between their shared laughter.

"Look at this one: 'i want someone to look at me like he is looking at Charlie's lips' -now where am i even look-"

"To be fair, it really looks like it, Carlos, sorry" he let escape a shy laugh.

"Shut the fuck"

"You have to look at the picture, carlos... try to understand their narrative, its very simple, come on"

Charles zoomed in the picture and showed carlo's eyes darting in the direction of his lips.

"Eh, cabron, now that looked really weird, to be fair" he grimaced. They looked into each other and there was a awkward silence until they broke into laughter again.

"Look, we have this effect on people apparently... cause we are so handsome, these weirdos just want us to start making out in front of the camera! I guess its something in their brain chemicals" Carlos said moving his fingers like trying to explain a magic trick.

"Oh mate, come on, get off of it now, this is too much junk for today" charles said with his breath apparently catching up now after laughing so much.

"Yeah, i think its enough, carlos closed the instagram app and put the phone in his pocket."

The awkward silence fell again.

Charles, desperate to break the unconfortableness, tried to start a conversation: "but like, imagine if there were actually, you know, gay-uh-lgbt people and they have to live a life like this, with people analyzing every move they make, in formula 1 in all places-"

"Yeah, you're right... like, we live in a such microscopic world already, and then having people to judge you because of, you know, something that is not even related to the job, like- yeah that must be though" Carlos complemented, now the conversation got into a more serious tone.

"I mean, that sucks. I heard about that guy called Adrian Sutil, and its not that i care, but i mean, we have no idea where he is now- i mean, good for him i guess- but its... i dont know how to explain but maybe its like these people dont even show themselves that much like we do you know?"

Carlos nods while listening and looking at what charles has to say intently as he speaks.

"Like, we and lando, we just go around kicking, punching ouselves in the groins all the time because we dont have to worry about it, you know?" Charles continued.

Carlos says now back to his joking tone: "Ah, this motherfucker is obsessed with my bal-"

Charles interrupts with his high pitched laughter as he squeezes carlos shoulders in his hand.

"No, but now im being serious: did you see how we went from joking, to then talking seriously, then we are just joking again?" Carlos said, self aware, like he just witnessed something he didnt before.

"yeah?"

"See, this is the ~chemistry~ Silvia keeps talking to us about... Cause we get along so good together and naturally... i think people just start to get, you know, hooked up on us! And... crazy, and to see we make out" He said very proud of himself and of charles while he gave some light pats on Charles back.

"Yeah... thats... true, carlos, thats true!" He said just realizing how actually good his relationship with his teammate was. "And ii meeann, we would make indeed a veryy- handsome couple!" Charles giggled as he always did when he feels like he just said something silly.

"But its true! You are a handsome fella. I mean i feel weird praising myself like this, but i am a handsome fella... we together, we would just be two handsome fellas, you know, its math" he said using his hands again, like someone enthusiastically explaining math.

"See, this is why i dont compliment you." Charles said with an harmless teasing smile. "But you ~are~ handsome, mate. If i was a girl- i'd problably try something with you, actually- not to sound weird or any-"

"Nah, dont worry, mate." Carlos gave a strong pat on charles back. "This is completely fine actually, i mean i think its nice that we dont have this uh, awkwardness, between each other, cause its very silly if we stop to think about it." Charles nodded agreeing. "And if i was a girl, i would try hitting up on you, too." Carlos said reassuringly, with a wink, which made Charles blush, not that its hard to make him blush, but...

"Thanks, mate".

"if you want a kiss, just tell me. These people may like it."

"Bastardo-"

Charlos kicked him in the shin, which carlos responded by grabbing and pulling, while charles tried to push his shoulders and get free off his arms holding his leg, making them fall off the sofa while carlos saw the opportunity to tickle him while he fell on top of Charles body.

"Stop mate, we are doing way too much in our free time" charles said trying to supress his giggles with the tickles.

"Stop what? Do you think ill kiss you or?"

Suddenly, the air in the room fell heavier.

The giggling stopped. Now Charles was staring at Carlos lips while he realized Carlos did the same with his.

"I dare you." The tone serious as his lust now.

Carlos went for it and kissed. Just like he kissed his girl for the first time, short and sweet, but now it was Charles. He pulled his head back, stared at charles for a brief moment, and realizing he was looking at him with that same look of discovery mixed with lust, kissed him again.

Charles just let himself be guided by the older man kiss, now going slower in rhythym, heavy with tongue, short in breath, thick in grunt.

After what felt somewhat between 15 hours or 15 seconds of a long kiss, they went back at staring each other, now the reality slowly bringing them back to their feet.

"Sorry, mate- i dont know what the fuck i-" Carlos said standing up

"No its fine i dont know either-" Charles stand up swiftly trying to make sense of what happened

"I just fucked up didn-"

"Pshh, dont say that. Its okay mate, its just a kiss. Nobody has to know."

"You really mean nobody, right? Like nobody."

"Of course, why the fuck would i do that"

"I dont know- i mean- i dont- i wouldnt think you'd tell anybody either way, i'm just-"

"And i wont." Charles said looking him in the eye and making him silent. "I give you my word. Nobody will know".

he extended his hand open in a handshake.

"I give you my word too, dont worry." He said back nodding, with a look that could only mean truth.

They shaked hands, firmly in their promise. After the silence settled in again..

"And... honestly... mate, your kiss was really good. I tell you that." Charles said all red as the ferrari color he was destined to wear, his face nervous but with a smile in his eyes that Carlos saw through.

"Thanks." Carlos said smiling shyly, blushing just as he did when people called him guapo in public.

And just like that, them standing in front of each other, there was two knocks on the door as a voice called "Carlos? Charles?". Time to go back to work.

[runtpig]

the usual of treating an ask game like a survey hehe <3 original is here and i stole this from @synnzzz technicallyyy so... ill send some numbers as well

What is your nickname?

baby, doll, lu

When is your birthday?

7/26/00

What was your longest relationship?

my current one :3 6 years!

What is your favorite book?

i have no mouth and i must scream by harlon ellison, misery by stephen king, gerald's game by stephen king ... i have bad taste

What is something you're insecure about?

my mean streak at times

5 Male celebrity crushes

trent reznor, brian warner, lars ulrich, dave mustaine, patrick stump

5 Female celebrity crushes

im not attracted to women ^_^ (sam reid)

What is your dream job?

my current job, a poet. but published.

What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

starting to produce my own music ^_^

What is a fact about you that nobody would believe?

i dont really like david bowie's music

What were your highs and lows for this last month?

we got groceries!

we were starving most of the time

Where is somewhere you'd like to visit?

norway and sweden

How do you de-stress?

sex and cigarettes :3

What are your favorite apps besides tumblr?

pinterest

Describe yourself in one sentence.

a flash of pink across the night sky-- zoom!

What do you think makes you attractive?

my charming purrsonality and captivating big eyes

What is something you're really good at?

visual aesthetics!

What is something you're really bad at?

learning instruments...

A time that you told a lie.

i told my teacher that my mom beats me in 2nd grade! ^^

What's a totally random and useless fact that you know?

ur more likely to believe someone whos levelled vulnerable info w you... i was lying in the last bullet point >:3

Who knows you the best?

not u!!! cuz i was lying in the last one too!!! she really did tho.

What is your most prized possession?

my engagement ring!

What is your longest friendship?

one of my irls! 16 years

When did you first feel like an adult?

when i had to comfort my mother after she picked me up from the hospital she put me in

Do you/ Have you played any sports?

no.

How are you feeling right now?

pretty good!! happie

Are you an early bird or a night owl?

both... what even is sleep

Do you believe in love at first sight?

yes!!

Favorite song lyrics right now?

What does self care look like for you?

taking a cat nap and smokin w the stray animals :3

Describe yourself with 3 singers.

hatsune miku, hatsune miku power, hatsune miku whisper

What makes you nervous?

sudden change and instability

What’s a pet peeve you have?

loud chewers

What will always make you cry?

parental abandonment/death

What kind of first impression do you think you make on people?

sunny! bubbly! approachable hopefully!

[that-terrible-writer]

Not Like This

I’m over trying to add this through Safari.

Part 3

Part 1 2

“You call yourself terrible but this, this is beautifully written and I need more.”

“This has got me on the edge!!!! I dont usually like reading series or even multiple parts but dude I wanna read more of it!!!!!!! Are you planning on writing more??? This is so fucking AMAZING”

Warning: Over 3.3k to make up for me sucking.

You felt you had an out-of-body experience. You could see everyone in the control room at STAR Labs, but you were only watching their lips move. No noise was coming out. It was pure silence. You were utterly dazed; you couldn't get the image of Iris crying out of your head. She seemed so helpless, not getting the answers that she wanted. What were you supposed to do? Confess to her that you were the other woman?

A yell snapped you out of your thoughts. Turning your head slightly, you saw Ralph getting closer to you, "Y/N!" Ralph yelled. You covered your ear, wincing at the volume of his voice. You swatted Ralph away from your space, taking a few steps back.

"What is your problem, Dibny?" You mumbled, taking another sip of your coffee. It missed your lips, spilling the hot liquid onto your sweater. You let out a groan, patting the stain in, slamming your coffee cup down on the desk. The group looked at you, not wanting to say the wrong thing; though, Ralph took one for the team.

"I didn't mean to annoy you, Y/N," He explained. Ralph cautioned himself, taking a step towards you, "It's just, now's not the time to be spacing out. You know, with Cicada still out there." You lightly nodded your head, understanding Ralph's point. You rubbed your eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry, Ralph. I didn't mean to take it out on you," You clarified. You glanced over at Barry, reading his worried look at you. Your heart ached when you locked eyes with him. A flash of Iris appeared, causing you to look away from him quickly. "Iris was over at my apartment last night, talking to me until 4 in the morning, so I didn't get much sleep last night."

You quickly saw Ralph's mood turned from concerned to being unsettled. You waved Ralph away from you, walking towards the doorway. You lifted your hand before letting anyone interject on what Iris was doing at your place. You looked over at them, "She's upset about the whole Nora thing. If you don't mind, I'm going to draft some weapon ideas and run them through Cisco." Cisco gave you a thumbs up, bringing the attention back to the Team, discussing ways to stop the biggest threat to Central City.

You walked by the weapon's room, heading straight to the lounge. You observed the room, seeing some things that Nora had left behind. You slowly made your way to the couch, plopping your heavy body onto it. You leaned your head back, letting out another frustrated sigh. You rethought your night with Iris when you knew you could no longer call yourself a friend anymore.

You brought over a cup of tea, sitting across from Iris. You thought that Iris would be out of tears, crying for an hour, and she still could go on for longer. You bit your thumb, trying to find the right words to say. Not to show concern for her, but to make sure you didn't let anything slip. Iris leaned over, cupping her drink close to her. She looked up at you, her face stained, her eyes puffy.

You grabbed a nearby box of tissues, handing them over to her. You watched as she blew her nose, sniffling the last bit. She collected herself, taking in a deep breath, "I'm sorry you had to watch that," She softly said.

You waved your hand, relaxing your shoulder, "Iris, it's okay. I would do the same if I were in your position." You waited until Iris took some time to drink her tea. You paused at first, not wanting to press on a sensitive matter. The curiosity was eating you alive, taking over, "Iris, why do you think Barry is cheating on you? Have you seen each other? You're the definition of couple goals." You clasped your hand over your mouth, not believing that you just asked her something so personal. Even if it did have to deal with you: you had to act like you didn't know.

Iris lightly laughed. You noticed the cup you gave Iris. It was the exact cup you were going to hand Barry when he interrupted you that night. You grew uneasy, rubbing your mouth and constantly moving your legs. You had to keep reminding yourself to calm down. You couldn't give away any tells.

"He's been more distant lately. He hasn't been relying on me as much. He used to come to me for emotional support; it's what a husband and wife do for each other, but when it came to Nora, he didn't want to discuss her." Iris explained. Her voice cracked, on the verge of crying again. Iris inhaled, calming herself down, trying to force a smile, "He came home this morning, and I don't know how to put it; he just seemed happy."

"Happy?'' You repeated. You furrowed your eyebrows together, shifting yourself on the chair. "How could he be happy? He sent Nora back; I would imagine happy is the last thing he would be feeling."

Iris shook her head, "I thought the same. Granted, I didn't know about Nora until he told me. He came home, all happy, then he informed me that he took her back to the future. I just can't figure him out anymore, Y/N." Iris placed her cup on the table to be able to put her head into her hands.

"I don't know what's going on, Iris. I'm in no place to tell you how to feel, but we need to remember Barry is going through a lot. Not only do we all have Cicada on our hands, but Barry also has to try and figure out Crisis. Then he learned that his daughter is working with the man that killed his mother. It's a lot to take in. We can't predict how someone could handle this type of thing." You tried your best to find a way to excuse Barry's behavior. You cursed under your breath, annoyed at how careless Barry was. You knew you had to speak with him, but you didn't need to grow any more suspicion.

"You're right; we don't know how Barry is handling all of this. Maybe I'm reading too much into this. It's just caught me thinking of so many things because he didn't come home last night. I've been just letting the worst come to mind." Iris confessed. You went over, sitting next to Iris, wrapping your arm around her. You took in a deep breath, having been heartbroken when you heard Iris let out her cries again.

Your stomach turned, remembering last night. Rubbing your face, you couldn't shake the feeling away. You noticed something at the table. A fresh cup of mocha had appeared, from Jitters, with Barry Allen staring down at you. His eyes lit up when they instantly locked with yours, a smile tugging on his lips; you could feel the spark that you both shared.

"Barry, we shouldn't be seen together." You mumbled, reaching over for the drink. You saw Barry shift his weight, but you stop before he could speak, "Iris came over: worried about you. I don't particularly appreciate lying to her, Bear. It would help if you fixed this with her. That's final."

In a blink of an eye, Barry had used his powers on you again. The room reminded you of an insane asylum. White covered every inch of the space. "It's Thawne's hideout," Barry explained.

"That makes sense," You joked, "Only a psycho would have a place like this." You looked around, seeing a stand against the wall, "Is it safe to talk in here?'

"It is," Barry confirmed. He walked over to the stand, hovering his hand over to reveal an artificial face. Barry saw you stiffen up, reaching out a hand towards you, "It's alright. This is Gideon. I created her in the future, and Thawne was using her while he was stuck here."

"Hello, Mr. Allen," The AI spoke, "Hello, Ms. Y/L/N." Your face didn't move. It was still showing the same puzzle expression.

"Gideon, can you pull up the article?" Barry requestion. Gideon pulled up the article that had you all worried.

THE FLASH VANISHES

"Barry, why do I need to see this?" You complained, "We are doing our best to find a way to avoid the crisis." Barry walked over to you, standing behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulder, turning you to face the article. He lowers his head to be close to your ear, trying to have you focus. Focusing: that was the last thing on your mind.

"Look who wrote the article," Barry whispered. You looked up at the name. Gideon zoomed in for you to make no mistake.

"Iris West?" You barely got out. You shook your head, pulling yourself from Barry. You turned to face him, crossing your arms, still in disbelief. "So, what does this mean?"

"That article used to say Iris West-Allen," Barry pointed out. He took steps closer to you while you did nothing to step away. Barry cups your face, rubbing his thumbs along your cheek, "It's now just West. Don't you see Y/N? We get to be together.

"The timeline is changing, just like Thawne explained. We can't stop the way that we feel. We can have a life together." Barry smiled.

"I don't know, Bear. I don't want to start a relationship based on what we did. Based on a lie." You confessed.

"Let me handle it then," Barry assured, "I will tell Iris everything. I will make sure that everything falls on me and that you can still have a friendship in the end." Barry kissed you. A soft and gentle kiss, telling you that everything was going to be okay. You stared at Barry, about to interject. Yet, a familiar flash came into view.

You gripped onto Barry's arm, seeing Nora at the other end of the room. Her eyes flashed red; she was panting, having red lighting come out of every part of her body. You should see the anger flowing through her. You turned Barry around, having him stare at his daughter. Barry reached out behind him, grabbing onto you.

"Nora, I need you to calm down," Barry instructed, stretching a hand out toward his daughter, motioning her to stop in her steps. Barry knew what was happening with Nora. She returned to the present using the negative speed force, rejecting everything he instructed her not to do.

"She's ruining our family," Nora yelled, causing you to wince. Nora looked at her father; disappointment came across her face. "Are we not enough? Was I not what you wanted?" Nora's voice cracked, causing you to have tears form.

"Nora, I didn't mean for it to happen," You plead. Your voice also cracked, feeling the heavy amount of guilt you had with Iris, just growing when Nora had to be the one to find out. You didn't mean for this to happen. You never meant for any of this to happen.

"She has to go, Dad," Nora ordered. She took a step closer, balling her fists, ready to take flight.

"Nora, we can talk about this." Barry tried to calm her. You felt the wind go through your hair. You thought it was Barry thinking quick on his feet, but he could only run for so long until Nora caught up. When you stopped, the figure placed you to your feet, helping you stand.

You quickly spun around, making sure Nora wasn't anywhere near you. "Don't worry. You're safe." The voice answered. You turned to see a young man in front of you, wearing a purple and white suit. "I'll always make sure you're safe." He had appeared to be in his 20s, wearing his hair like a certain Speedster.

"Barry?" You let out softly, confused at what you were seeing.

The young man laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He showed certain traits on how nervous he was before you: his hands were restless, flicking his fingers at the tip, rubbing his mouth, and biting at the end of his thumb. "You always tell me how much I look like him," He told you. You didn't know what to say; no words were coming out of your mouth. You looked around you, seeing that nothing looked familiar, "You don't know where we are?" He asked you. You slowly look over at him, shaking your head softly.

The young man rubbed his chin, muttering to himself, "Maybe it will happen later." That is what you were able to catch.

"I'm sorry, what?" You rebutted, "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Don't worry! You're still in Central City!" He assured you. You waved your hands as a disagreement.

"That's the last thing I am worried about, as I have an absolute stranger pick me up and take me away from my friends!" You yelled.

The boy placed his hands on his hip, and that instant: you knew where the dots connected.

Your phone rang; seeing it was Barry on the other line, you picked it up, "Y/N! Thank God you're okay!" Barry's voice sent a wave of safety through you. "Where did you go? Who took you?" You closed your eyes, focusing on Barry's voice, taking in deep breaths.

You looked over at the boy, seeing his ears perk. He stared at you, waving his finger at you, "Is that—is that really—" The kid couldn't finish a sentence. His excitement had taken over him.

"We got Nora into the Pipeline. We were able to knock her out with some anesthesia." Barry informed you, "You can come back if the speedster lets you."

You glanced over at the boy, "I don't think he's bad, Bear." You assured him, "I think—I think we know him from the future." You hung up the phone, walking your way over to the eager boy. "Do you think you could take me back to STAR Labs?" You questioned him.

"You serious?" He said. His voice showed the excitement he held, in a flash, taking you back to your previous location.

Your hair was a mess, standing in front of your friends: back in the control room of STAR Labs. Barry didn't think; he went over to you, pulling you into a loving embrace. You lightly tapped Barry's back, whispering to him so that only he could hear, "I'm okay."

Barry pulled himself away, turning to the boy. His face mimicked yours. He scrunched his brows, confused at the sight before him, "Why does he look so much like—"

"You." Cisco finished. Cisco walked over, taking a good look at the boy. He walked around him, examining his outfit and facial features. Cisco placed a hand under his chin, "The resemblance is uncanny."

"A little bit too uncanny," Ralph grumbled, looking over to your direction. You felt your stomach drop as you knew Ralph would quickly catch on to what you figured out.

"Are you here because of your sister?" Caitlyn mentioned, grabbing the boy's attention from you and Barry. He looked a bit confused and shook his head.

"No, Dawn doesn't know that I'm here. If she did, she would have my head," He joked. His smile grew wide, showing more of the Allen gene running through him.

"Dawn?" Caitlyn caught, tilting her head at the thought. "Don't you mean Nora?"

The boy shook his head again, "I think I would know the name of my sister."

You saw Ralph make his way over to you, pulling you to the side, "You need to take that kid away." He ordered you. You continued to stare at Ralph, your sight going over to the kid once and a while, "They may not see it, but it's only a matter of time until they catch on."

The boy wipes his hands on his pants, trying to straighten himself out. The smile he wore was the same smile Barry had. "Where are my manners. My parents did teach them to me," He chuckled, flashing his eyes over to Barry. "I'm Don Allen. I come from the future."

You and Ralph let out an annoyed sigh, quickly covering it up when the rest of the team looked at you. You make your way to Barry, tugging on his arm. Barry looks down at you, raising his eyebrows.

"Bear, we need to get this kid out of here. We need to speak to him alone." You informed him. It took Barry a while, realizing what was happening.

"Hey, Don," Barry spoke up, "How about we don't say anything about the future. We already have Nora in the Vault; we don't need any more future business involved." Don grew confused by Barry's remarks. He was able to read Barry's expression, understanding that nothing else needed to be said.

"Are you here to help us with Cicada? Like Nora was?" Cisco asked. Don looked over at the two of you, reading your worried expressions.

"Yes," Don said slowly; he turned to Cisco, pointing at him with a bit of a chuckle, "That is why I'm here. To help out with your bug problem. Me. Cicada. Yes." He was as awkward as Barry was; it wasn't helping.

Cisco let out a sigh of relief, having a smile on his face, "Great. The more help, the better. I'm close to the cure; we learned that Cicada's powers don't affect Killer Frost. I hope that enough recap for you because we can't waste any more time with this. We are a woman down, so we need all hands on deck!" Cisco clapped, getting everyone's attention. It was a signal to look busy.

Cisco left the room with Caitlyn to continue their efforts in completing the cure. Ralph followed behind. When Ralph was almost out of the room, you could see him mouth you some words: "Fix this!"

Barry waited a few moments, placing his hand along your lower back to guide you out of the control room. Don caught up, but the moment he tried to say anything, Barry placed an index finger to his lips to silence the kid. Barry put his hand on the wall, opening up a door to go back into Thawne's room.

"What are you doing here, Don?" Barry demanded the moment the wall sealed up. Don rubbed his hands, looking at his angry father. His mouth twitched, from going into a frown to just a thin line. "Don, you can tell me."

Don was pacing the room, "I don't understand," Don muttered, looking over his shoulder where the door was. He pointed towards the door, "They don't know?" Don asked both of you. You looked up at Barry, who had the same action, looking back at you. Don went over to you, grabbing your left hand to examine it.

"You're not married?" Don questioned you. You shook your head. Don ran his hands through his hair, getting more and more restless. "This can't be happening," He grunted. He turned to Barry, pointing his finger at the Red Speedster, "Why aren't you married to her?"

"Because he's married to Iris," You informed Don. Don looked over at you, the look of disappointment he had shown. "They've been married for a few years now. We're just friends." You felt Barry's hand resting on your side, his grip tightening. You took a moment, knowing what Don was going to say.

"Mom, you can't be serious," Don finally told you. The moment you knew the truth, you felt your breath leave your body. You felt faint, but with Barry holding onto you, you were able to stand. "You and dad need to be together! My being, Dawn's being, everything is disappearing in the future. You two not being together is destroying the future!"

You turned to look up at Barry. Barry looked at you, still calm over the revelation. Barry had to decide which future he wanted to have and had to choose which one had to go; the very thought made you sick to your stomach.

Tagged: @randomfanders-blog​ @ibe-anne @my-soul-is-the-moon

Permanent Tagged: @sxturn-stars

Some of the tags aren’t working and I’m sorry 😢

[quietlyimplode]

I dont really have the words for this one, except to say this is a story that's really close to my heart. It's one that was written of experiences and fueled by the movie being released. I wasn't sure if i wanted to share it, but I think it's a story I would like to tell.

Please heed the tagged warnings, on posts - there is nothing particularly kind or gentle about this series. It will move between Clint and Natasha's point of views and doesn't pull any punches. To those who have supported me with this one, I owe you a one shot, collect at any time. Thanks so much for the encouragement.

As always, take care of yourself. <3

summon your courage

1/6 (2137 words)

.

The television is split into four screens, each with a different room in the sparse apartment. He stirs his yogurt and clicks the remote to zoom in on the room the Black Widow currently sits in. He’s been watching her for just under a week now, having put the cameras in, invading her privacy in order to gather information for his employers.

At times, he feels dirty; like a creep; which in all honesty he is; watching a woman when she thinks she’s in private, all the private and intimate moments. He didn’t expect her to stay here for so long but he’s been glad for it, it’s almost respite for him.

Watching.

Waiting.

There’s a lull in her work, obviously; and she seems almost human, doing regular human-like things. Not at all like the dossier that’s laid out like a map on his left. All the information he has on her is stuck in his head. Death and destruction follow in her wake and there’s been certain kills that even he’s had to fold the page on and forget.

This is different.

She’s reading a book in French, he can’t make out the authors name from his view point, but he can see the title; Arsène Lupin is written in block letters.  Her knees are tucked to her chest and he can also make out how her foot taps, like she’s listening to music. He doesn’t think it’s a nervous tic and he can’t hear music; so, he assumes it’s in her head.

Sighing, Clint turns the sound up, and heads to the kitchen to make some coffee and dinner. Looking quickly at the clock, he marks the time as 9.15pm. She’s been reading since 7. If she follows her usual routine, she’ll be up in 15 minutes and get changed and go for a run, be back by ten and then get ready for bed. He’s assuming the run serves as a perimeter check, he often runs it backwards after she’s gone to bed, doubly making sure what she already must know.

The Russians are watching.

.

9 days in, she’s seemingly despondent. She hasn’t followed any of her usual routines, and has stayed in bed. He pulls his laptop closer and chews on fresh apple, watching as her eyes open and close and sleep. She has not moved once today. He wonders if what he’s been watching over the past eight days has been functional depression, she can do things, clearly. He has a bit of experience with that, according to his employer's psych team. She can take care of herself, but this, today, all together feels like giving up.

Maybe it’s a bad day, he rationalizes. She’s terrifying enough that the Russians have not made a move, suspects that they don't even know. He wonders if they’re hunting her, watching her or protecting her; it’s not something he’s made clear just yet; and to make matters worse on his run last night, he noted DRSD agents. Their walk as distinctive as their Russian counterparts. So, it seems that his presence here is not the only one. American, French, Russian, all vying for her attention and here she is, lying in bed. He focuses in, making sure she’s still breathing and marks the time. 1pm.

He loads the camera up on his phone and heads to the roof, craving the fresh air. He flips through the cameras he’s set up around his apartment to watch his own back, his own surveillance footage of his surrounding area. He’s satisfied enough that nothing is amiss and that his French is passable to not have alerted anyone, and then flicks back to watch her. She’s still not moved from the bed.

.

Day 12 hits and they’ve not had another day like Day 9. He doesn’t report that one to his seniors, reports it as a day in which nothing was amiss. French intelligence has moved on, but today, the Russians have made contact. It wasn’t anything big, a chalk mark on the pavement, a change in path on her run and dead drop of a post card from what he can make out when she came back. He writes it up, emails quickly and await orders on what happens next, wonders if he’ll be given clearance to wherever she goes next.

Some sick part of him hopes so, he wonders what that makes him.

.

He’s been pulled and sent to Barcelona with a fool of an agent that’s so far beneath his skill level, he sees it as agent training. Coulson must know. He makes it a point to be an asshole, he doesn’t want a partner and after this job, this man won’t want him to be partnered with him.

The whole time he thinks of her.

Wants to know what she’s doing, reading, if her routines changed or she’s completed her mission. He sighs hard on the plane home. He’s definitely a creep.

He can’t stop thinking about her.

.

Coulson is kind enough to put him back on surveillance. A reprimand of punishment for being a dick to the young agent. He’s gleeful as he heads to his apartment and bids Bonjour to the woman at the bottom of the stairs. He airs the room, and sets up the computers again, reactivates the cameras and waits for her return.

If she returns.

The apartment is lived in, still, her meager belongings scattered around the house.

He has hope.

.

He doesn’t have to wait long and within the day she’s back. He sucks in a breath at her appearance when he zooms in close. Black eye, split lip and he’s sure of unseen ailments by the hitch in her gait which she only allows inside her apartment. He watches her undress and walk around in her underwear; ribs are wrapped and he can see a stitched wound that goes from her neck to shoulder. At least she’s taken care of herself, enough to tend to her wounds.

He pays attention as she starts to punch her punching bag, her fighting style is clearly Russian, and there’s no clear compensation for her injuries. Her shoulder wound weeps blood down her arm, and still, she hits just as hard.  It’s impressive if not masochistic. It’s almost 40 minutes before she stops, drops and then starts with her usual routine of push-ups, sits ups and squats. At least some things don’t change. He marks the time and settles in.

It’s nice to be back.

.

He runs the perimeter nightly now, focusing on his own routines, now he understands hers. Marks all the Russians easily. Babysitting he decides. They’re babysitting her. By the run she takes, she knows exactly where her handlers are, makes it a point to run near each of them as a check in. It’s smart, but feels contrived, like she wants them to know she knows. He believes she can run circles around them, and likes watching her do so.

.

It’s a bad day again. She’s not got out of bed. He wants to shake her, tell her to get up. Do something. Punch the bag, read a book, eat something. But she does none of it. He watches her closely and makes sure she’s breathing. Hopes that tomorrow is better.

.

The next day seems worse. He didn’t go to sleep, just in case.. He doesn’t think she’d do anything to herself, but didn’t want to take the chance. He wonders what he would have done if she'd taken the knife to her skin. He calculates the quickest way there and waits. She doesn’t get up. Her eyes are open and no one's home. He wonders if she’s wet the bed, because he hasn’t seen her move once in two days.

It’s panic inducing. One day was enough. He almost wants to break cover and knock on her door to see if she’d open up. Instead, he hacks her phone and calls it. She makes no move towards her phone; the only response is a slow blink and recognition of sound.

He keeps calling. She doesn’t move.

In desperation, he contacts Coulson and asks what he should do. Since the apparent end of the mission will end in her death or the makings of a double agent, Coulson is non-plussed.

Watch and wait is the official lines. The feeling of dread curls in his stomach and settles like a stone.

.

They must know something is amiss. Obviously, she's not run her checks and hasn't touched base in almost 2 days.

They come for her in the middle of the night. It’s not something Clint had anticipated.

They put a bag over her head and drag her out. She doesn’t fight, and allows the men to inject her with something. He loads the cameras quickly to his phone, and sprints to her apartment. He feels like he breaks all speed records getting there, but he’s not quick enough. They’re gone by the time he arrives.

Breathing heavily, Clint pushes his body to run to the locations of Russians, the ones he passes nightly. They’re gone, except, god, he’s a fucking idiot. He has all their number plates and can track them. He calls through to Shield and is patched to tech. He fucking loves those nerds. It’s nearly 4 hours later but he’s been given three locations where she might be, where 3 of the cars have stopped. He only hopes she’s in one of them. Coulson hasn’t said anything, and he’s not explicitly said no, so he takes it as a yes; go get her and bring her in.  

.

The first address leads him to a dead end. Literally. The van is wiped down and abandoned. He holsters his gun and sits in the front seat. He feels ridiculous, his surveillance has led him to.. This. Chasing cars for a woman who when he catches up to her, if he catches up to her, he’ll have to recruit or kill. He 100% second guesses himself as he hot wires the van and heads for the next address. He just hopes she’s not dead when he finally gets to her.

And then wonders why he cares.

.

At the failure of the third address, he’s frustrated. He’s driven for over 10 hours and is tired. His back is hurting and he longs to lie down. Calling tech support again, he gets the location of the vans that were still on the move, they’ve all stopped now and he has another three leads to go on with. He’s got some choices to make. If he sleeps, he risks her being dead on his watch. If he stays awake, he risks becoming dead because of a stupid mistake.

He grunts and kicks the tires of the van, pulls open the back and unfolds the blanket from his backpack to create a makeshift bed. He sleeps on a 45 degree angle, gun in hand, legs out straight, relaxing his body and focusing on all parts of the blanket touching him. He goes through muscle relaxation and forces sleep to come. The three hours is definitely not long enough, but it makes him feel at least functional, as he lets caffeine and chewing gum do the rest. At least he gets to watch the sun rise.

.

The second to last address leads him to warehouse almost in Belgium and he rolls his eyes at the cliché of it. He’s strung on coffee and energy drinks, sugar keeping him going and he knows at some point he’s going to have to eat real food. He’s compartmentalising everything he does. It’s been 3 days and he hasn’t had a proper meal, barely any sleep. He just concentrated on the next thing. Fill up the car, drink coffee, next location, fill up the car.. it’s monotonous but serves a purpose, and got him here.

He knows this is where they’ve taken her. Knows it like the curves on his bow. It’s what he would do for wet work. Scouting the location, he tags five Russian’s pacing and one Black Widow tied to chair with a bag on her head. He can make out barbed wires not handcuffs holding her down, he closes his eyes to the barbaricness of it all but in the same moment the stones of despair in his stomach ease.

She’s not dead.

The little voice asks again, why is he so invested. It’s kill or recruit. Maybe he should shoot her from here and just divest them all of the responsibility of choice.

But he can’t.

He knows he can’t.

Knows that if she chooses death, it can’t be him.

He doesn’t want to wonder why.

Clint calls in, gives his location and an update, even if Coulson doesn’t want to know.

The reproach is significant, followed by a sigh and a be careful.

The rest of the series will be posted up on Ao3 with all my fic, maybe here, idk? As always any encouragement is lovely either here or Ao3. <3

[blxetsi]

modern sasha braus dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!sasha braus x gn!reader

had to write something for my queen 😌✨

- she shares her food with you. I Dont Care She Does

- also since this is a modern au i dont think she would have such an obsession with food as she does in the canonverse (if we can even call it an obsession) i still think she would have a big appetite (and she'd be proud of it tf 😏🙏) but i just dont see her always being hungry as the fandom makes her out to be

- really likes to hold hands with you

- i think itd be really cute if she was studying to become a baker ?? maybe taking a culinary course at the university you two attend ?? maybe you somehow met there or through a friend

- i think she'd still be insecure about her accent (ig if this is au is set in america she'd be from the south 😐🤚) and would speak kind of like a robot to people she didn't know that well

- connie and jean ALWAYS bring out her accent tho,, like with them she can really be herself

- i think when you were starting to get to know her she would be speaking very formally, and youd take it like shes being kinda stand offish or like,, just doesnt wanna talk so youre thinking "okay maybe she doesnt wanna be friends 😁👍" and would back off

- now sasha's upset because you are so cool and unique and she just wants to know so much about you but youve been very distant lately ?? like did she do something wrong ??

- she tells connie, jean, marco, and niccolo one night and connie and jean are on the side of "find y/n and demand to know why their behavior has changed" while marco and niccolo are on the side of "respectfully dm y/n and ask why they havent been wanting to see sasha recently"

- sasha goes with the latter of the two and dms you after passing you in the dining hall, you two literally keep glancing at each other, texting while you sit with your respective friend groups

- after everything gets cleared up sasha is immediately inviting you to hang out with her crew, and even getting some of her other friends like eren, mikasa, and ymir and historia to come join too

- if she has all the people shes comfortable with there, itll be less scary talking with her accent !

- You Love It. You Think Its Adorable.

- you guys would definitely have a friends to lovers type relationship

- like friendly hugs turn into slightly longer hugs, and now sasha will constantly ask to sit next to you during movie nights

- loves to rest her head on your lap while she spreads across the couch

- i think you two would have your first kiss in niccolos apartment

- you two were sitting in his kitchen, with sasha munching on the leftover food he made that night for your get together

- his mom had called him so he decided to leave to go to his bedroom to answer it

- and slowly you guys just kind of,,,, leaned in 🙈✨

- it was slow and really romantic, kinda rough with the crumbs that were around sasha's lips but you didn't mind

- niccolo barged in and ruined the moment 😐🤚 good going pal 😁👍

- you two were so shocked that you two tried to leave

- ended up just walking down the road in silence like wtf i thought yall were trying to get away from each other 😭😭😭😭

- sasha ended up staying the night 🤩‼️

- NOT in a sexual way

- but in like a,,,, rue and jules kinda way where jules comes in through the window (but only sasha didnt come in through the window she came in the front door with you) and you two held each other and gave each other smooches for the rest of the night

- sasha woke up late and missed her morning classes 😐🤚 didnt even care and went back to sleep with you

- i think for the most part you get along well with her friend group

- youre definitely closer to connie, jean, niccolo, marco, and historia

- ymir teases you guys a lot and you cant tell if what she says is just jokes (it always is) or if shes completely serious

- eren, mikasa, armin, annie, along with reiner and bertholdt are more of aquantances to you, just because you dont see them as often as you do the others

- she has such a weird relationship with her english professor

- will literally complain how much work he gives his class and then the next day will gush about how great he his bc he gave her a granola bar for her effort in her assignment

- girl pick a script and stick to it 😐🤚

- has a collection of stuffies on her bed. i dont make the rules.

- anytime theres a carnival in town she drags EVERYONE there.

- you all agree to split up into groups so you can all check out what you want, but you always agree to meet up and eat funnel cake together 🥺

- sasha tries to get you to win her new stuffies

- if you cant do it, or just want some for yourself, shes calling connie and niccolo up PLEADING with them to come find you guys,

- then she claims theres been an ACCIDENT and that you two need help

- niccolo is zooming bc he cares abt his besties 😌✨

- connie texts jean and marco to come find you guys too 😭😭😭

- who gets a kick and a lecture for lying courtesy of niccolo ? sasha. but who also gets a bunch of stuffies won for her courtesy of niccolo ? sasha.

- for your anniversary i think she'd want to do something really fun with you

- she'd set up a pillow fort and have a bunch ot string lights and stuff, have all of her favourite stuffies (which are the ones she thinks of you when she sees) in there too.

- she has chips, she baked little pastries and cookies, and she ordered your favourite takeout

- you guys just watch whatever you want on netflix or whatever and its such a nice night

- it becomes a tradition for you guys, but you two always take turns with setup

- one year sasha did all of the planning, baking and whatnot ? okay now its your turn 😁👍

- you guys even started doing themes now 🤩

- if you guys play board games with your friends youre on sasha's side whether you want to be or not.

- shes also the kind of person that says "i can win fair and square !" but then when bertholdt starts kicking her ass in monopoly her script changes real quick 🙄

- now its "y/n,,, give me some of ur money" and "y/n, buy this property for me" like girl,,,, what happened to playing fair 😍⁉️

- will try and do all of those s/o pranks you see on tiktok

- its hard to get a genuine reaction out of you bc you can TELL SHES RECORDING but she tries anyways

- we love a perservering queen 😌✨

- will call you at random times of the day asking if you guys can see each other

- "y/n ??? are you there ??" "sasha its 2am wtf do you want 😐" "do you wanna ride your bike with me down to the park 🥺"

- also is very observant, knows when youre overworking yourself

- will try and pull you away from what youre working on like "lets go get you something to drink, or maybe we can watch an episode of that show you like before you continue working !"

- if youre persistent that you just HAVE to finish it tonight and cant stop and take a break she'll respect that, until you stay at your laptop for over an hour 😐

- just softly pulls you away like "no lovebug, lets get some sleep okay ?"

- is also very protective of you

- overheard someone making fun of you ?? talking shit ??? her besties better hold her back before she gets suspended 😤‼️

- and since connie and jean absolutely ADORE you, you better believe theyre helping their girl sasha out

- those three are the LEADERS of the "protect y/n club"

- it just becomes niccolo and marco trying to dissolve the situation before it gets physical, and then reiner and armin joining when they walk directly into the chaos

- armin tells you what happened and as much as youre thankful that sasha cares about you so much that she'd defend you like that, you lecture her, jean and connie on not making scenes like that again

- sasha's love language is kind of like,, a mixture of quality time and physical touch

- she just really loves spending time with you, but also very much enjoys being in your arms

- she doesnt shy away from it, and is usually the one to initiate those things

- will hold your hand PROUDLY down hallways or on streets

- always hypes you up too, shes very much so your personal hypeman

- "oh lovebug you look SO GOOD rn oh my god" "sasha pls im in my pyjamas" "and you look like a model baby !"

- sasha is very stubborn however, and if you guys ever fight she is NEVER the one to apologize first, or seek you out to talk about it

- even if shes in the wrong she cant bring herself to admit it, she dug herself into such a deep hole with the stance she took that she doesnt want to take the walk of shame in admitting that she wasnt right

- this can cause a lot of problems in your relationship, but after you explain how much it affects you, shes trying to change

- will always work on her stubborn-ness and pride

- and it actually makes her feel a lot better being able to admit defeat, or being wrong

- she really likes being communicative and honest, especially with you

- i think overall your relationship with sasha is very very fun, filled with good memories, good food, good friends, and most importantly, love.

no bc i really do love her 😐🤚 lemme marry miss braus rq 😏✨

hope u guys enjoyed !! remember requests are open so if you have anything youd like me to write DONT BE SHY ❤️‼️

[mypimpademia]

Bakugo and Todoroki w a black s/o that they spoil

Bakugo x black!F!reader x Todoroki

TW: Swearing

Note: College AU

Bakugo

He treats you like the queen you are (as he and everyone should, youre a queen)

At first, you tell him not to, but he does it anyways

Takes you shopping every weekend

If you see something that you like but its too big on you, he'll offer to tailor it for you (ik damn well this boy can sew and do everything clothing related)

You say no, and then it magically ends up in your closet in the perfect aize

He makes you custom clothes too

You dont even know how he knows your measurements, but you dont even question it

For your birthday, you told him you didn't want anything

But what did he do?

Everything

This dude dragged your ass into a fucking Louis Vuitton store

Gucci

Prada

You name it, he took you there

If you like gettin your hair done, takes you to the best hair stylists and you have some of the best god damn braids a black person could wish for

If you try and buy him something or try to buy yourself something, he'll start hiding your cards

"Katsuki, did you take my fucking card again?!"

He lovess the way you look in gold/silver (honestly, pick which ever is your preference, I personally like the way i look in silver more)

So if you like jewelry, you have so many necklaces and bracelets

If you dont like jewelry, you at least have a couple

Yall were out on a date once and people kept staring and the waiter was flirting with you

He took the food to go and you guys left so he could get you a chain with his name on it

"Dont ever take that off unless you're about to fight, and its real so you can wear it in the shower."

100% takes pictures of you in whatever outfit he bought you that day and posts it with a zoom in on the necklace

Where is he getting this money???

Who the fuck knows

Todoroki

Not as rough about it as Bakugo

But definitely splurges on you

Prefers using his money over yours to buy things

90% of the time, he manages to coax you into not paying

Because how can you say no to him??

You caught him trying to buy you a Birkin once

The thought of owning one was nice

But you've never intervened so fast in your life😭

Even his sad face couldn't make you change your mind

It ended up on your dresser the week after

"SHOTO TODOROKI, WHAT THE HELL HAVE I TOLD YO ASS ABOUT BUYIN ME THINGS THAT ARE WORTH SEVERAL THOUSAND DOLLARS?"

"I mean, shittt, I don't know."

Plays dumb when you confront him about it

Jealous hoes at school thought you were lying about dating him so you told him but you were totally cool about it

He didn't say much

But next thing you know, hes rounding up his Shoto groupies just to come up to you and give you a diamond plated necklace with his name on it

All his fangirls were screaming and crying in fucking despair

Everyone wants to be you too bad

Mina sees it and she's just like

"DAMN BITCH TODOROKI REALLY ICED YOU UP-"

Uraraka: "youre wearing my rent around your neck-"

He took so many pictures of you in that necklace

Especially at Golden hour

If you didn't read my last headcanon, he loves seeing you at Golden hour because it makes your skin glow

Youre already his goddess

But at golden hour??

Shoto the s i m p

Once you had to take it off because it got stuck in your hair somehow

You left it off for 4 seconds afterwards and Todoroki started staring at you like the pic above-

You put that shit right back on😭

He gave you a lil kiss on the forehead then smiled at you after you put it back on

Sadist little shit-

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part two

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: thank you guys so much for the incredible response i got to part one!! it made me so happy so thank you. let me know wha yall think of this bit, we’ve got some plot going on which i always enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one

You don’t hear from Bucky for a while after the party. It’s disappointing - you’re self-aware enough to admit that. But you also aren’t stupid enough to expect anything else. Bucky asked you to that party as a favour, you got a one-night-only special being in his life and you’re not expecting anything else.

You had hoped it wouldn’t have impacted your nightly rendezvous, but those had stopped too. You suppose Bucky decided not to trust you after all.

Almost three weeks later and you’re at work, thoughts of Bucky barely a buzz in the back of your head compared to the job at hand. You’ve always been able to let your work consume you, and it pays off in your line of business. Being a private investigator requires attention to detail, lateral thinking, and a questionable moral compass. Your patented paranoia doesn’t hurt either. Your dad tells you every time you visit that he wishes you’d get into something more stable, something less dirty, but you’re not really good at anything else. Considering the majority of your clients are partners trying to figure out if their significant other is cheating, it also pays well for quite minimal effort.

Quick rule of thumb for aspiring PI’s: they’re almost always cheating.

Today is one of those clients. You’ve tailed the guy in question to a tattoo shop in Red Hook, which is already a red flag. He’s an investment banker and buys Louis Vuitton cufflinks for his ugly work suits. He stands out like a sore thumb in this grungy neighbourhood. You snap a few photos of him outside the store, very obviously checking left and right for a tail before entering the place. People suck at being subtle, you’ve come to realise over the years. And at being observant, because all you’ve bothered to do to hide is sit at the cafe across the road and pretend to be taking photos of the latte art on your coffee.

Entering the tattoo parlour is a no-go, even if your grunge aesthetic would fit in with the clientele more than your straight-laced prey. There are other ways, though. You leave some bills on the table and cross the street into the alley beside the tattoo shop, wrinkling your nose at the dumpster smell. There’s a fire escape which you can reach if you stand on the lid of the offensive dumpster in question, leading to a window you hope will get you some insight into what Mike Shorditch of suspected-cheating fame is up to. Maybe he has a tattooed, lip-ringed young girlfriend he meets here? Or a heavy-set biker boyfriend? Or he just wants a tattoo and his wife is as paranoid as you are.

Squeezed uncomfortably between the bars of the fire-escape, you manage to aim your camera lens at the window and zoom in - jackpot. It’s a small window near the ceiling of the high-roofed shop, letting in minimal light to ruin the dark aesthetic of the place, allowing you a somewhat clear view of the shop inside. It’s really nice, you notice, and they have good taste in music. Slowly Slowly bleeds minimally through the glass and you try focus your lens on the faces inside, catching Mike among them like a unicorn in a goth reunion. He’s talking to someone, waving his hands around dramatically while the guy he talks to towers over him, arms folded over a ginormous chest.

You know that face, you realise as you aim your lens a little higher. The shock burns, almost makes you drop your camera and fall off the fire escape you’re precariously lying on. It’s Steve, blonde head unmistakeable as he glares at your target and dismisses whatever Mike says to him with an eyeroll. Without questioning it, you snap a few photos of Steve’s imposing figure - so at odds with the friendly, downright cuddly man you met at the party a few weeks ago. Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of thoughts about that night, they show up at your work. How is this possible?

None of this sits right with you. This strange coincidence, the weird behaviour at the party towards Bucky and his friends, Bucky’s general evasiveness and the feeling you get of being watched just being around him. Nothing is adding up and you’ve never been the kind of person to leave well enough alone. You snap photos of the shop, as much as you can - Steve’s tattoo sleeve that had been hidden under a jumper at the party, the stencils lining the walls, the locks on the front door, the counter where a scrawny kid in glasses bends over what looks like genuine high-school homework and ignores the adults in the shop. There are too many variables - you have to start making sense of one of them.

The easiest thread to pull is Mike, and he’s the one you’re being paid to solve, so it makes sense to start there. Clearly it isn’t cheating his wife should be worried about, but the meeting he’s having with Steve and the others doesn’t look like a friendly catch up with friends either. His personal cybersecurity is poor enough you figure you’ll be able to solve that particular mystery easy enough.

Bucky and his friends, however? That’s going to take a bit more digging.

***

According to Mike Shoreditch’s bank records, he owes somebody a lot of money. You get this from an account his wife doesn’t even know he has, believing all their money goes into a shared account with a completely different bank. Mike has a lot of secrets but cheating isn’t one of them - the print outs of his secret bank account statements and the pictures of him at Steve’s tattoo parlour would be enough for you to close the case and get your money. But you don’t. Not just yet. You have your own itch to scratch, now.

You’ve taken to watching the tattoo shop’s comings and goings, snapping pictures here and there. Steve comes in at ten in the morning, ready to open the shop up by lunchtime for customers and doesn’t close it until midnight. His customers are the usual sort you’d imagine at a rough tattoo shop in Red Hook - heavy set guys with full sleeves and chest pieces, grungy couples who probably live upstate but are rebelling against their trust-fund parents, random walk-ins who’s nerves you can sense from across the street at what’s become your usual table. There are a few, though, who stand out. Leather jackets and motorbikes they park in the alley beside the shop, using the back entrance you snap a shot of one night once they all went home.

You’re not jumping to conclusions just yet, you’ve learnt the hard way from doing that, but you’re also not stupid. Whatever Steve is into, whatever Bucky is by association a part of, there are some shady looking people involved as well.

It’s one of those days where you’re watching the shop from the cafe, camera left on the table in favour of devouring an almond croissant and cataloguing the people you’ve now dubbed regulars at Steve’s as they enter the shop. You should probably be doing your actual job but you can’t bring yourself to, too caught up in the shady business across the street from you. Absorbed, in fact, so you practically jump out of your skin as your phone rings and you send it flying to the pavement with an errant elbow.

You pick up without checking the ID, and boy was that a mistake. Heart pounding painfully in your chest, you answer, “Hi, hello, hi, this is (Y/n) speaking,” all in a rush.

A familiar, honey-warm laugh rumbles down the phone to you and your previously racing heart all but stops beating. Bucky says, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Does he know? Had Steve caught you spying and called Bucky asking why the random girl he brought to a party that one time was stalking him? You glance around the street, half expecting Bucky to be standing behind you and catching you red-handed. He’s not, of course he’s not, you’re just losing your mind a little bit.

“No, no, sorry,” you say, running a shaky hand through your hair. “I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Bucky says, sounding amused, and you hate how the rough catch of his voice through the phone all but erases the suspicions you have for him, warning you to stay away. You had missed him, is all. He says, as if plucking the thought from your brain, “I was missing you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glad he can’t see the grin you send to the table. “That why you disappeared after the party?”

“Let me explain over drinks?” Bucky asks, dodging your jab with ease. No, no, no, don’t be stupid, he’s bad news and you’ve got the proof, don’t-

“You’re paying,” you say instead, silencing the smart side of your brain.

“Always do,” he says, which is blatantly not true but whatever, “Nine at Joey’s?”

“See you there,” you say, and hang up before you can do anything else stupid.

You bury your hands in your hair, leaning your elbows on the table and letting out a frustrated sound probably inappropriate for a public place. How are you going to go meet Bucky and pretend you aren’t, essentially, investigating his best friend? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you use this to get more answers, full-stop some of the question marks that have been playing havoc with your head all week.

And sex. You’re not going to pretend you won’t be ending up in Bucky’s bed again, shady secrets be damned.

***

Joey’s is a divey, underground bar you absolutely adore, and you’ve met Bucky here multiple times. He introduced you to the place, actually, a week or so into meeting up him. He’d laughed at how excited you were over the movie posters they used as decor behind the booths, the bartender who squeezed fresh apple juice into your shot of Jameson, the dirty bass-heavy music you eventually convinced him to dance with you to. Bucky is clearly trying to win you over by meeting you here, and you can’t say it’s not working. Just a little bit. You’ll still make him work for it.

Bucky’s got a booth at the back when you arrive, two whiskey apple’s already waiting on the table as he stands up to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, not letting you set the tone at all, but you can’t find it in you to mind as you’re crushed into his chest and he rests his stubbly chin atop your head. He smells nice, reminding you of spiced rum or something else warm and comforting, and his hands feel real nice as they dip under your top to press against your bare skin. Had you really missed him this much? You squeeze him tightly, ignoring the thump of your heart as he starts rubbing circles into your back, and you stand there in his arms for far too long to be appropriate.

Pulling away, though, feels like you’ve lost something.

Across the booth from you, now, Bucky slides a drink towards you with his usual cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at him, popping the straw in your mouth and looking out at the bar so you can pretend not to pay attention to him. He bumps your foot under the table but you ignore him, hiding your smirk in the rim of your glass.

“Doll,” he says, exasperated, and reaches across the booth to place his giant hand on the arm you have resting on the table. You look at him then, scrunching your nose up at the pet name which makes him smile. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, all soft and blurry blue, and you feel yourself forgetting why you’re supposed to be mad at him in the first place.

“What,” you say, mimicking his tone just to watch his jaw clench. His frustration is hot, what of it? You love winding him up like this.

“Brat,” he retorts, and oh, that makes you feel something you probably shouldn’t, all low and coiled hot in your belly. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

“You were avoiding me,” you correct, raising your eyebrows at him. He hasn’t let go of your arm, now taking to rubbing his thumb back and forth across the leather of your jacket. You refuse to let it melt you.

“I was away,” he says, eyes sparkling. He’s practically laughing at you, which is- rude. You huff, barely believing him, and he says, “I was! Did you want me to tell you I was going or something?”

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. You sigh - he’s right, what did you expect? Nothing, and yet you were put out anyway, but that’s a problem you’ve got to deal with on your own. Bucky doesn’t owe you anything and he knows it. You relax, finally, putting your drink down to cover Bucky’s hand with your own. You smile, say, “I’m just messing with you, Bucky.”

“Sure you are,” he says easily, but you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s dropped, then, forgotten as you sit there staring at each other in the dim light of the bar. You really had missed him, even if you still barely knew him. His stubbly jaw, the close-cropped sides of the new haircut he’d gotten since you’d last seen him, the glint of his dog togs against tanned skin disappearing under his t-shirt. The swirl of his chest piece peeking out from the neckline, and you can fill in the blanks because you’ve seen what’s under that t-shirt. You’ve traced your tongue over it, as well as every other inch of him you’re trying to memorise in case another month passed before you saw him again. If you ever saw him at all.

“What?” you ask when you realise he’s starting to smile at you, holding back a laugh. He shakes his head, looking down to pick up his drink and take a sip. You lean back, retracting yourself from his grip and folding your arms across your chest - he’s making fun of you, you know it, but you don’t know why. He does laugh then, also leaning back in his seat and regarding you with that head tilt that infuriates you.

“Nothing,” he laughs, eyes saying the opposite. “It’s just- it’s nice to see you.”

“You going soft on me, tough guy?” you tease, but he sobers at your words, the smile dying on his pillow-plump lips. He stares you down, that deep thing that reminds you how easy it is to get lost in him (if you aren’t already).

“Maybe I am,” he says, and that surprises you. You had been joking, but the heady way he’s looking at you turns it serious. “Would that bother you?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. You don’t even know if that’s a good response or not, but you’ve done it now and Bucky nods, downs his drink, all without ever breaking eye contact with you. You get the distinct feeling you’ve just agreed to something you don’t entirely understand, entangling yourself further into Bucky without even trying to. Given what you’d been uncovering about his friends the past week, you should know better. You should leave.

But you don’t. You lean across the booth, coming to him this time, and peel his hand off his glass to entwine your fingers with his. The cool metal of his signet rings offsets the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way he grips your fingers tightly signs the deal. Bucky is too enticing to stay away from, and you are too tired of trying to.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you ask, but it’s not really a question. You watch his eyes dart across your face, tongue flicking out over his lips, stalling for time. You wonder what he’ll say. My friends run dodgy business deals out of a tattoo parlour? I’m involved in that, too? I’m dangerous, I’m a liar, you should stay away?

“I’m a mechanic,” he says. You try not to show your disappointment, but still, this is information you didn’t have before and you’re greedy for anything. “I have my own shop in Queens. Natasha helps me out, helps me run it. I’ve been obsessed with cars and bikes and shit since I was five.”

You smile at that, imaging little Bucky running around a car yard trying to convince his dad, or whoever, to teach him how to drive even if he couldn’t reach the pedals yet. You imagine him now, the hand you’re holding all greased up and elbow deep in a car’s guts, maybe with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back. You’ve got to see that one day before you die, you decide right then. That’s too hot to just stay in your brain.

“Your turn,” he says, shit-eating smirk in place like he can read your mind. You blush, despite yourself, and scramble for something to say that’s not I’ve been investigating your friends all week and it’s not looking too good for them.

“My dad,” you blurt out, and Bucky give you a funny look like he thinks that’s your fact - you have a dad, isn’t that something. You curse yourself for starting this, you could’ve gone with anything and you said ‘my dad’? But you’re here now, so, “He raised me on his own, like, I don’t know my mum at all, but he always said he wanted me to have something of her so he taught me Russian. She taught him, apparently, and he taught her English. Now it’s like our secret language.”

“Russian, hey?” Bucky asks, and he seems far too surprised for the anecdote you’ve just given but you suppose it is the first actually personal thing you’ve told him. He doesn’t seem off-put by it, though, like you have expected him to be because you don’t do personal. In fact he just leans closer, almost unconsciously, baiting you to tell him more.

“Yeah,” you say, compelled to keep going. “We’d leave each other notes around the house in ‘code’, y’know, but it was just in Cyrillic. Thought it was so cool.”

“It is cool,” Bucky says, smirking at you again, “You’re cool.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, kicking his ankle under the table but immeasurably grateful for the tone change. You don’t know why you’ve just told him that. You don’t know if you’ve ever told anyone that - Russian isn’t exactly a handy language to know. You feel drunker than you should be after a tiny bit of whiskey, high on the rush of unleashing a secret. Drunk enough that Bucky unlatching his fingers from yours to grip your wrist tight, a bit bruising, tugging you close, makes you flush from your scalp to your toes.

Bucky looks at you, dark and heavy, and asks, “Want to?”

You nod, throat suddenly very dry, and Bucky tugs you out of the booth without another word. Usually you wait a bit longer before getting on Bucky’s bike, have a few more drinks, maybe dance a bit if you can coax Bucky into it. Not tonight. You’re both on the same page - it’s been too long and you need his mouth on you about five days ago.

He pushes you into the apartment by the shoulders, rough enough you stumble but you’re quickly righted as he strides through the door after you and grabs you by the hips. Bucky crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your needy whine with soft lips and velvet tongue as you fist his t-shirt and drag you both backwards, going and going until your back hits a wall. His palm slams into the drywall by your head but you don’t flinch, only groan as he smudges his spit-slick mouth across your jaw and down your neck. Bucky bites down, sharp teeth on soft skin, and you rake your nails down his stomach as payback for the mark you’ll have later.

“Off,” Bucky grumbles as he shoves at your jacket, getting it stuck at your elbows and trapping your arms by your sides. He seems to like like this, eyes flashing something dangerous in the dark of his hallway. You hold his eyes, heart thrumming something wild in your throat at being caught, pinned, vulnerable. With Bucky, though, you like that.

You want to reach for him but you can’t, so you wait for him to come to you. Kissing you breathless, hand fisted in your hair, other undoing the front of your jeans. God, you wanna touch him so bad but Bucky has you in his grip, yanking your head back to kiss that same bruised spot.  He sucks another under your chin as you cry out, pinpricks of pain-turned-pleasure bursting at the base of your scalp.

He gets his hand in your jeans, in your panties, runs two fingers down your cunt so easy with how wet you are already before rubbing bruising, slow circles on your clit. Your whole body jerks against Bucky’s hold on you, his thighs bracketing your body into the wall and his hand still fisted in your hair. Your mouth drops open in a soundless moan and you feel, rather than hear Bucky laugh against your throat. All executive function has diverted to the radiating ache of pure pleasure from Bucky’s fingers on you.

Bucky lets go of you hair only to press his hand on your throat, cold rings digging into your burnt-up skin and pressing you back into the wall. Long fingers tilt your jaw to look at him, increased pressure warning you against looking away, but you don’t want to anyway. Bucky’s eyes are dark like a sea storm, molten blue, and he squeezes his grip just once before saying, “Still think I’ve gone soft?”

Jesus christ, but you can’t answer him like this - not with your pulse thundering against his palm and the way he picks up the pace on your clit, making your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up. Bucky grins, boyish and crinkly, and it’s so at odds with the way he slides his two fingers down and pushes into you, twisting to the knuckle, that you think you might be losing your mind. Unravelling, Bucky pulling at the threads, and the only thing holding you together is his hand on your throat.

“Bucky,” you say, his name a broken breath as you start to lose focus. Everything’s hazy, glassy, your toes are going numb and tingly so you know it’s coming, building tight in your stomach as he rubs his fingers back and forth inside of you. At his name Bucky makes a sound almost like a growl, pressing his body against yours and somehow further into the wall. You need that contact,  the press of his muscles holding you up as it gets harder and harder to breath with the heat coiling up inside of you. He presses his forehead against yours so all you can see is blue edged out by black, claiming your every breath and moan, drawing you in deeper and deeper because you’re his, now. There’s no way back from this.

He presses his thumb to your clit, thrusts his fingers deeper into you, mouth parting with yours as you moan as if he means to swallow the sound. You’re there, you’re right there, and then he kisses you so soft you might’ve imagined it and you’re coming, your whole body clenching up and whiting out while he finger fucks you through it.

Trembling muscles come to leant against the wall, barely holding yourself up as Bucky extricates himself and allows you room to breath. He gently tugs your jacket all the way off, freeing your arms to come up sluggish and heavy around his neck, holding on. He laughs, just quietly, letting you nuzzle your way into the side of his neck and breath in that warm honey Bucky smell as you try and regain mental functions. It’s hard. You think Bucky’s just blended up your brain with a swizzle stuck and sucked it out through a straw.

“C’mon,” he says, gravel rough, and nudges his nose against the side of your head. “Not done with you yet.”

“Hmph,” you say, but let yourself be picked up under the ass and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck you can reach with every second your body comes back online, digging your teeth in a little when he squeezes your ass as he walks. You’re both still fully clothes, basically, but you don’t plan to be for long. You’ve got tattoos to kiss and a dick you want anyway Bucky’ll let you. You’ve got all night, after all.

***

It’s late, you should be going, but you steal a few more minutes lying on Bucky’s chest. He’s sat up against the headboard, trying to braid little pieces of your hair with the cutest look of concentration on his face. The way he goes from dirty to dork always makes your heart do complicated things in your chest. You’re drumming your fingers on his chest, right next to his dog tags, and before you can overthink it too much you pause your drum solo to pick them up.

Bucky doesn’t pause in his hair-braiding but you can feel him watching you as you turn the worn metal over in your fingers. They’re well loved, a bit bent in places and the letters starting to rub flat  but you can still read it. His birthday, March 10th, and his name. You’d never thought to read these before - they always seemed part of Bucky’s past, something you weren’t allowed into yet. But tonight has made you bold, and you run your thumb over the letters of his name so you can memorise the feel of them.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, words half said into his skin. Bucky hums but doesn’t respond, so you say, “I always knew no mother could look at their newborn child and call it Bucky.”

“Watch it,” Bucky warns, but without any real heat. You don’t ask what the tags mean, which war he fought in, when he got back. You lay them back on his skin carefully, straightening out the chain, before turning in Bucky’s arms to prop your chin on his chest piece and look at him.

“I should go,” you say, as you continue to lie there with legs tangled and Bucky’s hand now resting idle, cupping the back of your head. He bites his lip, strokes his big hand down the back of your hair and making you close your eyes for a second. You’re enjoying his touch too much, you’re getting too close for a man you don’t know. A man who you know has secrets you probably don’t want to uncover, but you can’t stop yourself.

“You could stay.” Bucky’s words hang there, suspended in the space between you. He’s never said that before. You never thought he would say that, ever. Bucky looks at you, face unreadable, and you don’t know why you feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden but you do. There are lines being crossed that you can’t backtrack from. You’re not ready to make that step yet.

“Not tonight,” you say, and it’s not a no but it’s not what Bucky wants to hear. He withdraws his hand from you, letting it drop uselessly to the bed beside him. You take that as your cue to go, rolling off the bed and dressing silently with Bucky’s eyes burning a hole in your skin.

You’re pulling away, trying desperately to regain some distance and control from his man who already has you swallowed whole, he just doesn’t know it yet. Even still, you can’t stop yourself crawling back on the bed and straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him. You want him to remember this - not you saying no, but the way your body will always say yes to him as he holds your hips and keeps you there, kissing you back as desperate as you feel.

But now you know you have reason to climb through the laundry room window that night and sneak away from Bucky’s apartment building, that you’re not just being paranoid because you’ve got photos to prove it. It’s that thought alone that makes it bearable to leave him, even if your heart is begging you to stay.

Part 3

[notmymainblog]

Bets

Sirius Black x Reader

Masterlist

y/n won't be capitalized for the sake of those fancy y/n to real name websites

words: idk how to find out how many words there are

Warnings: FLUFF?! And blood and bruises just run-of-the-mill Quidditch injuries, lol, but obvi you can't see it. Swear words (not that many tho)

your eyes are blessed. you’re welcome.

Ah, Quidditch season. In your opinion, the most anxiety-inducing season (Remus would agree). You waited anxiously and even placed bets on whether Sirius or James would eat shit flying off their brooms first. Things seemed to be going in your favor. Sirius was steady and diligent, zooming around the pitch.

‘Merlins beard, he's gorgeous,’ you think to yourself. ‘WAIT NO, DONT THINK THAT YOU DUMB BITCH. You're just friends. Best friends. ONLY FRIENDS.’

You were interrupted by the crowd groaning. You looked over to see Sirius lying on his back, broom halfway across the pitch, sticking out of the sand.

“Thats gotta hurt, ” Remus muttered.

“Why isn’t anyone helping him?” you questioned.

It turns out James had fallen just before Sirius did, and there was only one Madam Pomfrey to go around. She motioned for you to help, seeing as his other best friend was out cold.

You made your way down the stairs of the Quidditch stands and out onto the field, and he was...fucked up, to say the least. His nose was bleeding, and his skin was stained purple with bruises. The sight broke your heart.

You knelt next to him. “Sirius, ” you said quietly, “are you alright?”

“y/n, ” he groaned, looking up at you before giggling, “you're so pretty, ” he reached up to touch your face and traced his finger down your forehead, tapping your nose.

He was very coordinated for someone who just got chucked into the sand. You sighed and held up three fingers.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” you said

“Three is a little much for my first time don't you think?” he said plainly.

You resisted the urge to punch his arm. “Are your ears ringing?” you asked

He smiled wide “only with wedding bells, my love, ”

“Sirius, ” you said quietly, “are your ears ringing or not?”

He shook his head, “nope, ” he grinned “however the wedding bells-”

You cut him off by shining your illuminated wand in his face. You moved it around, and his eyes followed.

“Congrats Sirius, you don't have a concussion, ” you announced.

He sat up slowly as you helped him “why would I have a concussion?” he wondered out loud.

You sighed. ‘Hes not concussed, but there's something wrong.’

Madam Pomfrey came up behind you. “I gave him some medicine, so he's quite loopy,” she said

You nodded, relieved. She walked away. Sirius had scooched closer to you. You felt him grab your chin before kissing you in front of most if not all the students and teachers in Hogwarts. His lips had sand stuck to them, but it was still very enjoyable.

To your surprise, they cheered, though you're sure a few girls jeered. He giggled before accidentally knocking you over in a hug. You cradled his head with your hands before he hit the ground.

“Sirius, ” you groaned, “at this point, you will give yourself a concussion, ”

~Time skip~

You sat in the hospital wing as Sirius came to, considerably more aware of his surroundings.

He groaned “what the fuck happened y/n”

You pursed your lips before saying, “well, first of all, you fell off your broom, and secondly, you umm well, you kissed me in front of the entire school.”

He smiled “finally.” your eyes widened “it's about time I kissed you. I mean, I've been in love with you since what? third-year?”

You sat there dumbfounded. ‘Wow. That went much better than I expected,’ you thought.

“I mean, were you ok with it? Did you not like it? If you don't like me, it's fine, but if you do would you like to be my girl-” you cut him off by kissing him gently.

“Yes, ” you said, “I'd love to be your girlfriend, ”

“ITS YOUR TURN LILY, ” James shouted from across the hospital wing.

“IM NOT DATING YOU, JAMES, ” she yelled in frustration.

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

Welp, that's it. I'm also on Wattpad as messyeyeliner (ik it's a lame username)

[wonnoy]

life long besties (?)

i have returned master kageyama

[][]

warnings: i guess insults for people who (i dont know. )

[][][

1 | 2 | 3

Oh god how you hated him. It didn't even matter what you hated about him, it was just everything.

Kageyama Tobio was the most insufferable person on the planet to you and the feeling was mutual. It wasn't instant hatred mind you, it was more like one action triggered the entirety of the downfall. And it all started with Hinata.

Last year of high school, your last year to make memorable memories. Stuff that would make you look back and hopefully not regret or be embarrassed by anything. Much harder said than done really, being outgoing wasn't the strongest suit you could wear.

You looked around the classroom, it was just buzzing with activity and you were the only one left out of it. A little bit of an outcast, you had spent the better of your time studying. The only semi friend you really had was Tsukishima - and even he was too busy with volleyball to actually spend any time with.

Any time you did spend with him was when the two of you were studying at each other's houses. He preferred it that way, there were less distractions there than at school.

Tsukishima was currently sitting by himself too, but you didn't think he'd be by himself for long. Yamaguchi, if you remember correctly, was always dragging him away from the classroom.

You scoffed and slunk your body further down into your seat, was it worth the hassle to go and try to talk to him? At least once without it being about a certain topic or anything? You sighed internally to yourself, probably.

Scooting your chair back, you started to walk over to him. He had his headphones in and a book in his hands, the usual set-up. You gave him a tat on the shoulder and he took his headphones off.

"Isn't Yamaguchi coming soon?" you leaned up against the desk.

Tsukishima scoffed at that, "I'd rather bite my fingers off," and he looked back down at his book. You would have normally took that as a sign to shut-up and go away but-

"So that does mean he's coming by soon right?" you smiled down at him and Tsukishima only sighed muttering 'any second now'.

The doors to your classroom bust open and in came Yamaguchi, smiling wide and eyes already landing on his friend.

"Come on Tsukishima, we gotta go," and Tsukishima only groaned before sinking into his chair, hastily pulling his headphones back on. But Yamaguchi was having none of it, already keen on moving him out of the chair.

You were still leaned against his desk and tilted your head, go somewhere? It was barely lunch time and you knew for a fact that volleyball practice doesn't start until after school.

Curiosity bit at you while Yamaguchi tried dragging his friend out of the chair.

"I can help," you got off the desk and could feel the burning stare of hatred Tsukishima was sending your way.

"Ah thank you y/n," he sounded relieved and began tugging while you started pushing. With great effort, and a couple minutes later, Tsukishima was finally standing but as an upset toddler.

"Where are you taking this big lug?" you leaned against the desk once more. You needed it a bit more for support this time rather than comfort because of the slight exertion you just did. Tsukishima grumbled at you and rolled his eyes. You ignored him.

"We're off to hang out with some other third years at the gym," he explained and stopped thinking for a second, "you're welcome to come with."

You looked behind you to gaze at your desk and the ones surrounding it, they were all empty. It would have been better than staying here alone, you didn't even bring your headphones today. You turned back to Yamaguchi, you were just complaining about being alone and not having enough memories.

Yet when given the opportunity you want to run away from it? Like hell.

"Sure, lead the way,"

__

Yamaguchi talks a lot, but you kind of already knew that. The fact that Tsukishima and him are close friends is insane, polar opposites those two were. The terrible friend and then the mediocre-ly kind friend, a wild dynamic.

"Someone called me Spongebob yesterday because of my freckles," Yamaguchi said. He went and dotted the freckles under his eyes for emphasis and Tsukishima snorted.

"Does that make me Squidward then," he pushed his glasses up, "the one that makes your life hell?"

Yamaguchi paled and nervously laughed. Tsukishima didn't stop his insult there, he then looked at you, "and I guess that makes you Patrick," and you immediately began to beat on him with your hands.

"I'll show you Patrick, you damn squid," you spat. Tsukishima and you lagged behind whilst Yamaguchi kept strolling ahead to the gym doors.

There was already a racket going on inside and it didn't surprise him much. He looked behind him, you were still pulling furiously at Tsukishima's ears as he continued verbally assaulting you.

Yamaguchi opened the doors, "hey guys, I brought a friend!"

There were only two boys inside yelling at one another, Hinata and Kageyama. Ukai was in the corner reading a magazine, he offered to be the 'parental guidance' last night when the third years asked if he could watch over them.

Doesn't seem like he was paying much attention though, which may or may not have been a good thing.

Hinata was bragging about his jumping when Yamaguchi announced his arrival, immediately turning away from Kageyama. Kageyama was fuming in front of him and Hinata turning away only made it worse.

"Ah, Yamaguchi!" Hinata jogged up to him, "took you long enough," he smiled and slapped his hand on the back of Yamaguchi. Sputtering forward, he grumbled from the stinging on his back from the slap that Hinata gave him.

Yamaguchi pointed behind him, "it's because I had these two in tow," pan-zoom in to you now tugging Tsukishima to ground and claiming that 'he was now Plankton in your eyes'.

You stilled when looking over at the doors of the gym - first impressions were already going down the drain and you quickly climbed off of Tsukishima whilst brushing your skirt down to manageable levels.

You waved, "hi," and the orange man smiled really wide at you. You think you remember him, you believe you actually watched one of the volleyball games after Tsukishima mentioned it at the end of a study session.

Hinata Shoyo, and the one fuming behind him was Kageyama Tobio. They were the star duo when it came to 'quick attacks' if you could remember the term correctly.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you outside of the hallways," Hinata laughed. He was already striding towards you and gripping your wrist, dragging you to the gym with him. Protests were choked back as you slowly skid to the doors and into the gymnasium. You haven't really spent a lot of time in here, normally you were in and then you were out.

It felt uncustomary to be standing here.

You looked over at the last third year of the room, Kageyama. His hair reminded you of a weirdly shaped q-tip and his face seemed to always be holding a permanent look of anger on it.

"Dumbass!" Kageyama bellowed out and you immediately puffed your chest at him like some weird peacock. Did he just - did he just call you a dumbass?

Hinata behind you was about to say something back but you beat him to it, it could have saved you this entire mess of hatred. But no, your fat mouth just had to open.

"I'm not the dumbass, dumbass," you shot back. Your brows were furrowed and fingers were clenching. Hinata still was holding on your wrist and he let you go, setting you free to swing your arms right back down to your sides comfortably.

Kageyama looked taken a back a little bit because it was you who replied and not Hinata. But it definitely didn't grind his gears right when you called him that, if his stiffed posture didn't indicate anything other than that.

"Alright let's just-" Yamaguchi began but Kageyama cut him off.

"But you're clearly the dumbass," Kageyama snuffed at you. By now, he had taken a couple steps closer to you so he could do some sort of intimidation stance to show off his height compared to yours.

You grabbed your forearm and began pushing up the already short sleeved shirt, "call me Sandy Cheeks because I'm about to karate chop your ass," you could hear Yamaguchi stifle a laugh to the side but no further fuss than that.

Kageyama couldn't have looked more disgruntled after you said that phrase. But instead he only mimicked your movements. You clearly took this as a threat.

So because of a tiny misunderstanding in communication, the ten year long feud between you and Kageyama raged without fail.

[][][

this is going to be one of my longer fics - as you can see it's got 3 parts

this is part 1, i wont be posting part 2 for a bit because im doing my first collab.

see you soon, im writing for futakuchi.

[honiboyyoon]

The CEO’s Son (M)

Your relationship with your boss’ son was never one HR would approve of...

Pairings: Jungkook x reader

Word Count: almost 4k

Warnings: smut, dont let someone talk to you like this at your work, jungkook having a size kink

A/N: LITHEN rayan wrote a jungkook size kink blurb and lotte kook came for my fucking throat and im not sorry!!!! reni get the four loko,,, bete.., i inked

When you first landed this internship, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. The internship was actually well paying, incredibly insightful to your field once you graduated university, and you would even go as far as to say-although incredibly nerdy of you- it was very fun. Overall this internship at Jeon Enterprises was a dream come true. It was almost too good to be true, and that’s because it was. The bane of your existence as of late was your boss’ overly flirtatious, pompous, and ridiculously attractive son. Jeon Jungkook. With his stupid shaggy hair, God you simutanilousy wanted to run your hands through it to sniff it but also shave it off his stupid head. Then there was his stupid face, and his stupid body. You didn’t think a guy in a suit could affect you as much as it did, but here you are, ogling him from your desk as he’s stopped at the water cooler. As if sensing your stare, Jungkook turns his head and you two briefly make eye contact before you redirected your gaze to your computer screen. Yes, pretend like you’re doing work, he definitely didn’t catch you staring at him. As if he could hear your thoughts, Jungkook saunters over to you with a shit eating smirk plastered onto his face. I would give up my employee discount to slap that right off you think to yourself.

“How do you get any work done when your staring at me all day, baby?” Jungkook coos, he’s leaning against your cubicle divider, and his crossed arms are pulling his already tight fitting shirt more taught against his muscles.

“How do you have so much money, yet still can’t find a shirt that’s actually your size?” Your tone is falsely sweet but it has Jungkook grinning wider.

“Y’been staring at my bod that much to notice huh, Y/N?” This is your relationship with your CEO’s shit head son. He flirts, you sass and flirt back, you go home insanely sexually frustrated, rinse and repeat.

Your thoughts are interrupted by one of your supervisors reminding everyone of a meeting in five minutes. Everyone around you slowly shuffles to the meeting room down the hall, and you get up from your chair and begin your way towards the boardroom when you hear a low whistle, “damn, have I ever told you that that’s my favourite skirt on you? Your ass looks amazing, babe” Jungkook is still resting against your cubicle, chin poised on the palm of his hand. Of course he didn’t have to go to the meeting, he was the CEO’s son.

“In your dreams” you’d be lying if you said your heart did beat a little faster when these exchanges occurred.

“Oh but we do!” he mockingly groans and grips harder onto your cubicle wall, “at least four or five times a night!”

You only answer back with a scoff and a shake of your head as you make your way down the hall.

Once the meeting has begun, your supervisor informs the interns that those that are the most promising and likely to be hired on once graduated, will be given more work, to better prepare them for what life is really like and Jeon Enterprises. After a few grumbles your supervisor assigns days to each one of you, stating that you will work a sort of “over-time”, to get you used to times of the year where the typical 9-5 just simply isn’t enough hours in the day. You’re assigned Tuesday nights, and will begin tonight. Forcing a smile on your face as you accept your that your plans tonight are now ruined, you thank your supervisor for the opportunity. It’s not until you’re walking back to your desk do you realize that you in fact, did not actually have plans anyways, you never really do, but the option to make plans is always nice to have.

As you near your desk you notice Jungkook is poised against your cubicle wall again, as if he never left.

“Are you stalking me now, Jeon?” You tut, a smirk finding itself on your lips without you even realizing it.

“Just wanted to make sure your seat was clean,” he pulls your chair back for you as if he’s an actual gentleman, as you sit down in it he comes around to the front of you and sits on the edge of your desk, “and this one of course.” He circles his face with his hand.

“Well, it’s good to know you at least recognize the importance of giving good oral when you have the world’s smallest dick.” You turn to your computer before you can see the dark look that flashes through Jungkook’s eyes. He leans down closer to your ear and quietly says, “oh, you have no idea.” And with that Jeon Jungkook leaves you with a tingling ear and damp panties.

It’s about ten minutes later when you hear a ping and see a message bar show up on the corner of your screen. Clicking the flashing bar, your heart does a little flip as once you see who the message is from.

Jeon Jungkook

8=========D

“What the fuck?” you chuckle under your breath, hands already typing a reply on their own accord.

Y/N L/N

Did you just send me a dick pic??

Y/N L/N

As an emoticon?

Jeon Jungkook

Big isn’t? ;)

He’s lost his fucking mind, you think to yourself. This is hilarious, but Jungkook has actually lost his mind.

Y/N L/N

I had to increase my screen zoom to see it, but its cute ig

After hitting send, you hear a dramatic “Ha!” from the direction of Jungkook’s desk before you hear another ping.

Jeon Jungkook

Remember that im the supervisor thats overseeing you on your overtime nights ;)

You didn’t, infact, remember that. But now you’re rubbing your thighs against each other trying to relieve some strain as your imagination begins to run wild of what it’d be like to be the only two people in the office.

Y/N L/N

fuck you

Jeon Jungkook

thats the plan baby

Oh my God.

Your relationship at the office has always been one HR wouldn’t approve of, you two always took things most would consider “too far” but it never lead to anything. You said shit like this to each other all the time, but this afternoon felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something told you tonight may finally be the night you don’t have to go home and touch yourself thinking of your boss’ shit head son.

Two hours later, it was finally the end of the day and everyone was packing up to head home for the evening. Some of the other interns give you looks of pity before they leave, but you don’t feel an ounce of dread about having to stay late. Your mind keeps wandering to that stupid conversation with stupid Jungkook. You guys were always talking to each other like this, but now it felt different, and you couldn’t help the butterflies that started abusing your stomach.

It’s now half an hour since everyone’s gone home and you’ve continued to work through the extra load given to you for tonight, when suddenly a familiar ping sounds again. You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together when you read the message from none other than Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook

Come to the board room

You didn’t know what was louder, the squeak escaping your lips or your desk chair being pushed back as you abruptly stand up. You don’t dwell on that too much as you quickly make your way to the board room. You try to calm yourself down, you and Jungkook heavily flirted all the time, his dumbass probably broke the screen in the meeting room or something, yea, yea that’s it. Just because your last conversation was a bit more heated than usual and ended with him saying he wanted to fuck you, didn’t mean he was about to plow you in the board room.  You slow your walk as you get a few steps before the closed door. Quickly running your fingers through your hair to tame any stray hairs, you glance over your clothes before taking a deep breath, hand clutching the door handle. After a brief pep talk, you’re pushing through the door to find Jungkook sitting at the board table seemingly working on something on his laptop. As soon as you enter, he stops typing and leans back in his chair as that devilish smirk appears on his face again.

“Close the door behind you,” holy shit this was really happening, you were really about to fuck Jeon Jungkook, and in the office of all places. “Lock the door behind you” he’s racking his eyes up and down your figure, when they finally reach your eyes he says barely above a whisper, “only if you want to, that is.” Oh, holy shit. This was him giving you a way out, to get a sense of whether this was more than just back and forth flirting and banter, to see if you really wanted him.

With a speed you didn’t know you possessed, you locked the door behind you without breaking eye contact. Jungkook stands up from his chair and gestures for you to come closer, as you do you can feel a blush already heating up your cheeks.

“I’m surprised you wanted to have sex with me,” his voice is still a quiet whisper, and his hands are now at your waist, pulling you closer until you can feel the beginnings of his arousal through his pants, “y’know, with me having such a small dick and all.”

“Well…” lord, girl get it together, you’ve been dreaming about this since you started your internship, “that may be true, so I thought I should see how your much your oral makes up for it.”

He crushes his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything else. The kiss is rough and hurried, clearly the several months long sexual frustration was mutual. He spins you around and grinds his hard on against your ass. You can’t help the few whimpers that escape you as he starts to suck at your neck, “gotta mark you up nice, huh baby? Can’t have anyone in the office trying to take what’s mine.” You shake your head in agreement as Jungkook pushes you forward so your hands are against the table and your ass is bent up, the sight has him groaning. No one’s ever really manhandled you like this, and it’s gotten you more worked up than you thought it would’ve.

“Fuck, I really do love this skirt on you, but I really want to see what’s underneath more.” Jungkook stops his aggressive groping to push your skirt up around your waist and you quickly dispose of your blouse and bra. Bending down, he places open mouth kisses along your ass cheek, as his hand continues to roughly grope the other one. The unoccupied hand is now rubbing you through your panties, and you feel like your about to loose it from all this pent up frustration.

“Please, Jungkook.” You beg, your voice already sounding strained and whiney.

“Please what baby? You need to tell me what you want,” you gasp as he applies even more pressure, “use your words.”

“I want your f-fingers, and your mouth. I want you to eat me out.” Your practically panting, and Jungkook’s erection is now painfully pushing against the fabric of his pants after hearing and seeing you so submissive, so different from your normally sassy attitude, and it make Jungkook want to wreck you. You only hear a low chuckle from Jungkook before one of his fingers is pushing past your underwear and straight into your wet heat. He doesn’t start off slow, he immediately starts to quickly finger you, your arousal already starts to drip down his hand as he harshly sucks on your clit.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” Jungkook coos, licking up your folds, “I guess since my dick is so small you only need one finger, huh?”

Before you can protest, Jungkook removes his finger from your pussy and begins to pull you back up so you’re now chest to chest. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, and without having to be told you open your mouth and begin to suck on the digit. Jungkook chuckles at your submissiveness and switches his thumb out for the finger he used to finger you. He stares with such intensity at his finger disappearing behind your lips, that it only make you suck faster, harder.

“I really want to fuck your stupid little bratty mouth,” he’s almost mumbling to himself, but you continue sucking on his finger, this time he speaks louder, more controlled, “but I really just want to fuck your bratty little pussy already.” You’re furiously nodding your head, as he retracts his finger form your mouth. He’s roughly kissing you again, as he grabs underneath your thighs and sits you on the table. Your hands are roaming over each other, although his are much more dominating. He’s grabbing your hand and placing it over his clothed erection, and your mouth waters from the sheer size of his bulge. Jungkook, of course, notices this immediately and with great pleasure.

“What, not big enough for you, baby?” He’s taunting you because he knows he’s big, he’s fucking huge, and you can’t move your hands fast enough to unzip his pants. Jungkook’s hands are turning your hair into a makeshift ponytail when you pull his underwear down and his hard on practically smacks you in the face. Oh, holy shit. You never would have thought you would use this word to describe a dick, but Jeon Jungkook has a monster cock. You don’t have much time to dwell on this thought before Jungkook is tapping the tip of his dick against your cheek, and you’re now just realizing that your mouth had been agape since you first had your hand over his crotch.

“On second thought,” Jungkook tightens your hair in his hand, “I really do want to fuck this pretty mouth.” You manage out a whimper before he’s guiding his cock into your open mouth. You’re swallowing around his cock, trying to take him all in, but you’re only about half way down and there’s an obscene amount of spit seeping out of your mouth, and you’re about to run out of air. You pull away from his cock, desperately trying to fill your lungs, and you notice a trail of saliva connecting your mouth to the angry red head of his cock. Jungkook catches the trail as well, and he’s darkly huffs out a laugh as he grabs his dick to tap against your face again, “what? Can’t take it you stupid little brat?”

The degrading catches you a bit off guard and has you pouting back, “‘m not stupid.”

“Huh?” He taps his cock a bit harder against your cheek, “What was that baby I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I’m not stupid!” You huff, your lips are spit slicked and pouting and your eyes are almost adorable when they look up at him. God he can’t wait to wreck you.

“Of course you’re not stupid baby,” Jungkook probably should’ve asked you want your kinks were beforehand, but he takes note that degradtion probably isn’t on that list for you, at least not yet. “You’re not stupid, no. You just can’t take my cock.” If you didn’t want him to fuck you so badly you would’ve smacked the shit eating grin right off his face, but you’re shaking your head furiously at him. “No, please fuck me Jungkook, please. I promise I can take it, I promise.” Jungkook could’ve blew his load just from finally hearing you be so submissive towards him after months of attitude. He kisses you again and he guides you to lay back on the table, hand guiding the tip of his dick to your heat. He doesn’t enter, just simply rubs the tip against your clit and you feel like you could explode.

“Think you can handle it, baby?” he whispers in your ear, and a quiet uh huh is his green light to enter you. All the dominating behaviour aside, Jungkook, much to your happiness, actually enters you slowly. He enters inch by inch, allowing your aching pussy time to adjust to his massive size. When he’s fully inside you, you both let out a pant and Jungkook waits for you to give him a signal to move. Although you teased him about having a small dick, you never really thought Jungkook did, but you never would’ve dreamed he was hiding a fucking python under his designer dress pants.

After a few moments, you feel relatively adjusted to his size. If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think you could ever fully adjust. But, nonetheless, you breathe out a soft move and bite Jungkook’s ear lobe. You both groan as he slowly pulls out, nearly all the way. He sets a moderate pace at first, and although your grateful due to his size, you’re honestly a bit surprised he isn’t rougher with you. As if sensing this, Jungkook smirks down at you, “need to get you a bit more adjusted, baby, can’t have me accidentally ripping you in half huh?” and that has you moaning out as he hoists your legs up higher and he plows into you. Honestly, you really do think he could rip you in half.

Your moans are pornographic as he fucks into you with such speed and power your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. His chiseled muscular body is glistening so beautifully under the fluorescent office lights that you don’t even wonder when his shirt came off, but fuck you’re happy that it did. Your transfixed watching his ab muscles move as he fucks you. You don’t really know where to look, he’s just so hot. His shaggy sweaty hair dangling in front of his eyes, his half lidded eyes watching your tits bounce every time he fucks into you, his slightly parted mouth that occasional lets out a guttural moan. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and he’s just so hot and you just need more. When you voice this, Jungkook just smirks and wraps his arms around your legs to keep them parallel to his chest, and he’s fucking into you even harder.

“Fuuuck, your pussy’s so tight and wet for me baby, shit you’re hot.” Jungkook pants, and when his eyes drift down from watching your tits bouncing, that’s when he notices it. With every thrust, Jungkook can see a little bump come from the inside of your lower abdomen, and something inside him snaps. He’s fucking into you even harder now, and you’re nearly crying at how animalistic he’s being.

“Fuck baby, look at you. Your little pussy can barely take my cock, look at it sticking up inside of you.” He thrusts a little extra hard to really make his dick protrude and you’re nearly seeing stars. You couldn’t believe it. Jungkook was actually so big that his cock would poke up your belly. You’re nearly gushing around him at the revelation, and Jungkook just keeps fucking you nice and hard, his hips a rough stactoo against yours. He’s groaning and panting while he watches the bump come up with every thrust. “Shit baby, look at you, your bratty little pussy can barely handle my cock, it has no room for it. I bet you love my fat cock don’t you, baby? Huh?” His hand reaches forward to slap your bouncing tit, “You fucking love my huge dick don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I love your fat cock Jungkookie, please fuck me with your fat cock, I love it so much!” Your screaming, and you honestly don’t care if the late night office cleaners can hear you.

“Tell me how much you love it baby, c’mon, tell me how much you need my huge dick, tell me how big it is”

You don’t know if he’s being this rough because of your earlier comments about him having a small dick, or if it’s because he can visibly see that your pussy can barely handle the size of him but you don’t care either way. “It’s so fucking big Jungkook, you’re stretching me out so fucking good, baby oh my gosh.” You feel like you’re about to cum any minute now, and when you voice this Jungkook pulls out of you and flips you so your hands are on the table once again. You nearly scream when he enters you again, the pace just as brutal. His hands are now roughly gripping your ass cheeks, the occasional blow being delivered to them. He’s panting into your ear telling you how much a good girl you are for taking his cock so well, how he bets you won’t ever say his dick is small again, how he’s going to ruin your tight little pussy every Tuesday night in this board room. “You’re not going to be able to listen to a single thing they say during these meetings, your just going to be thinking about my huge cocking stretching you open.” You slip a hand down to play with your clit as Jungkook continues his assault on your pussy. You’re so close to almost hurts. “C’mon baby, show me what you look like when you cum, I wanna hear you” He delivers another smack to your now cherry red ass, “cum all over my huge cock, baby, c’mon.” A few more powerful thrusts and you’re coming harder than you ever had in your life. Jungkook follows quickly behind you, unloading onto your ass, moaning at the erotic sight.

You think you might’ve black out in all honesty, but the next thing you know, Jungkook is wiping his cum off your ass with a tissue and gathers you in your arms. Looking down at his now soft dick, you nearly laugh at the fact that, even when soft, Jungkook is above average size. Apparently you said that out loud, because now Jungkook is laughing as he hands you your clothes. You see him tuck your panties into his pocket and when you question it, he casually replies with, “you’ll just have to get them back next Tuesday.”

You definitely love this internship.

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Covid has really been hitting people hard, but today, as a University student in her third term, I'd like to talk about schools spesifically

I remember last year in my second term when classes got moved online. I had an anxiety attack week one because I just couldent do it. I just cant do school things while I'm at home - I cant even read for leasure (something I really enjoy doing) at home. Theres too many House things to do at home, that's why I designated spesific things to do elsewhere. But now I cant leave my house except for work.

My english teacher too, told me of the day it was announced the whole college was going online, that he saw teachers crying in the hallway. If I were teaching that year it would have been me aswell. But instead, I took the 2020 fall term off, picking up more hours at my essential worker job with my terrible boss who somehow hadn't gotten fired yet. I took the term off, hoping to avoid the chaos of online learning while it was at its worse. But I couldent avoid online school forever, if I skipped a second term in a row i would have to re-enroll; an unnecessary spending of 50$.

This 2021 spring term, I was talking with my counselor about the due date to drop classes; he said the final day to drop without getting marked down for it AND fined for a late fee was feb 17th, a good 3 or 4 weeks after classes start. Great. Except today I got an email saying a 3% late fee would be applied by the first of February.

That was 17 days of class I could have spent figuring out if I had too much on my plate or not. I was already prity confidant I would keep astronomy and psychology, but Spanish Film became a big issue today. The teacher was sick the first 2 days, so today was our first real lecture. Her native language is spanish, and thus she has an accent. An accent I just cant understand (none of which is her fault).

It's hard enough paying attention to the zoom lectures, but now I dont even know what the teacher is saying? How am I supposed to deal with that. I tell my mom and shes completely unremorsful - saying I should just turn up the volume (I have sensitive ears and would like to actually be able to hear when I'm her age so hard pass - it also genuinely just does not work for me, I did try it) or I should just drop the class. But then I start wondering what if this spanish film is the one class for its UCORE requirement I can actually pass? What if the other options are harder and I make things worse by dropping it? What if - what if - what if -

And I feel myself start to spiral. But I dont - I cant have another anxiety attack over online school. This is only the beginning of the term, I barely made it though the last 4 weeks of last years term. Pull yourself together and just email her

I finally gather enough courage to press send on the email I typed up asking her to see if she can figure out how to add CC to help me pay attention and focus (and also just genuinely know what the fuck she is talking about cause I was so lost today). A few hours after I send that email, she posts the next film and assignment along with graphic scene warnings for the film. I cant even read the warning sentence without almost getting triggered.

At first I thought telling her about it would be out of the question, considering she still hadent responded to my previous email - that would be asking for help twice in one day on 2 different subjects. But as I keep thinking about it, weighing my options, I cant stand it anymore. The warning sentence alone was too triggering - and if I watched the scene I would surely get worse and worse symptoms of my irrational fear. I cant watch that scene. So I email her again telling her as much, asking for an alternate film to watch (as she stated she would do if students needed one) or if I should just try to skip past the scene and watch the rest of the film.

She emails back rather quickly, saying not to worry and I dont have to watch it. But she doesnt say anything about an alternative and still hasnt responded to my other email. I start to worry again. How bad of a student must I be to ask for help/special circumstances on 2 completely different areas of the class to put me on an equal playing field in less that 12 hours. Now I'm that student that's always asking for special things to help me. What if it turns out I'm lying about needing them and I'm just doing it to be lazy and get out of extensive work? How terrible of a student must I be then?

No. I remember in 8th grade my math teacher told us about 2 students he used to have that raised their hands and asked a lot of questions every day in class, and one day they came up to him and said 'we must be your worst students, huh' and he was all 'on the contrary, you are my best students'

They asked questions. They asked for help when they were confused, and they learned a lot more by asking than doing otherwise - I'm sure a few other students learned at least a bit from their questions too.

So no, I am not the worst student for asking for accommodations. I'm a responcible adult who genuinely wants to learn from that class and not fail or need to drop it. I want to be successful. And if that teacher wont help me, it's not worth taking her class.

So go forth, and ask your teachers questions with the youth of a 6 year old asking random off topic questions just for fun!

Tl;dr you arent the worst student ever for asking for help no matter what kind of help or how much you ask for - it just makes you a better student, and better than the teacher if they refuse to help you :)

[alltheselights]

Hey Emma. Sorry to bother you and making this anonymous is the only way I think I can say it... I'm not okay, I haven't been for a while. I most of the time pretend I am, or sometimes I rwslly feel like in a good place, but lately it's been really difficult for me to cope with everything and what's going on around me. I'm just so down and work's been so hard and tiresome. I don't know what to do with life anymore. I want to stop everything and just dont waste my energy anymore. Is that so bad?

I’m really sorry you’re feeling this way, bub! And though it probably doesn’t help much, I can assure you that you’re not alone in feeling this way, especially this year when so many bad things are happening and so few good. And as much as you may want to give up, I hope you don’t.

When I’m feeling really down, I try to do things that will distract me and I’d recommend trying to do the same. Find a new hobby that you enjoy - take up knitting, doing puzzles, crosswords, or something else that will occupy your time. Do something that will take your mind off of everything - watch a movie, start a new series, read books, watch comedy shows on YouTube, have Zoom dinners with friends or family members, or something else that you find occupies your mind instead of allowing you to focus on your negative feelings. Sometimes, it really helps me to schedule my time so that I’m not just lying around feeling useless and sad. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taking time to relax - I will schedule in time for things like naps, lounging around and watching TV, or taking a bath - but it at least it provides me with structure and makes me feeling like I’m doing something, as small as those things might be.

I’d also recommend talking to someone you care about on those days about whatever you’re feeling - a family member or a friend. You may find that people close to you are feeling similarly, and even if they’re not, they can be a voice of comfort and support when you’re struggling to put one foot in front of the other. It sometimes also just helps to put your feelings into words after spending so much time locked inside your own head where you’re suffering alone.

Also, make sure you’re getting regular exercise, plenty of sleep, and eating as well as possible because that type of thing can definitely affect your mood. The physical aspect of depression is HUGE and it’s something that we don’t pay enough attention to. Make things easier on yourself by taking care of your body even if you're struggling with your emotions and mental state.

And of course, if you’re feeling really down one day, please call a hotline and reach out for help because there are so many resources available. (U.S. numbers/more localized U.S. numbers/International numbers.

I’m sending you so much love right now! I hope you know that there are people who understand how you’re feeling and want the best for you, even random strangers like me. You’ll get through this and come out the other side. ❤️❤️

[moonlightjeno]

so like when youre free maybe you could do roommates!au + enemies to lovers + “you have the emotional capacity of a brick.” from the prompt list with im-not-even-gonna-say-his-name-because-you-know-it? hopefully with a happy ending idk maybe theyve both been burying their feelings for some time? dont push yourself and you dont have to do it if you dont want to 🥰 ly so much bubs ❤❤

asdfghj im so so so sorry this took me ages to actually write !! i do hope you like it’s seriously like just pure fluff and some small tiny angst but basically I want a jeno after this and you know why. 

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬: [roomate!au] +  [enemies to lovers] + [“you have the emotional capacity of a brikc”]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: f l u f f and full on crackheads. this is a mess

creds to @mozartwasajungkookstan ,, ty for the help on how to start this!

Having a roommate or really lack thereof was nothing like the movies, especially when lee jeno was involved. It’s not like you saw him often, he seemed to spend most of his time either in his room the only sound coming either grunts or the click click of the video game controller that he seemed to be attached to dearly. You were almost sure he talked more to the tv screen in his room and his phone was six other voices would at times come through, seeping through the door. 

When your old roommate had suggested you move in with jeno, you had initially agreed. From what you’d heard from her he wouldn’t get much in your way, loved animals so wouldn’t mind you bringing your cat and he was cute. Jeno was the epitome of a perfect roommate according to the paper in front of you and Jaemin who’d had to leave you and therefore make you move because of a modeling gig he’d been presented halfway across the world. The boy at least had shown you pictures of the boy who you’d be spending the rest of the year with and when you’d first seen them you couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eye. The pictures that jaemin had shown you had done him no justice, had been your first thought when you’d the boy who’s black hair had been pushed back, clothes clinging to his body from sweat, a result of what you had later learned was from a late dance practice you had been stunned. The initial stun of his beauty quickly faded the moment he opened his mouth only to close it back up again, and turn around leaving you in the entrance hall. 

The relationship between the two of you didn’t grow much from the initial encounter. It seemed that jeno would either spend too much time outside and come back to your apartment marks left along his neck where he would maybe wave a hi to you, and if it was a good day wouldn’t complain about you taking up most of the space in the living room. On your defense, he never used it either way. At least that’s what you thought, it had never occurred to you that the boy was to shy to disturb you, or that anytime he would come in the living room only to find you concentrated, most of the time scribbling over papers across the desk that he didn’t want to bother you. Especially when you looked kinda cute, all concentrated on whatever it is you were working on, he never asked never dared to. 

Three months into the rooming and it seemed that you had traded the boy you loved and had grown to be one of your closest friends for a stone-cold dark-haired boy. Jaemin was a foil to jeno in every way possible that the english dictionary could come up with. Where jaemin would greet you by the door almost every day, and was ready to give you a hug and talk about your day to no end jeno wouldn’t. The most jeno would do was tell you what the weather was outside on the occasion you went out to get the groceries, but in the times of a global pandemic, those were few. No relationship seemed to blossom, not that either of you put much effort into making any sort of conversation, the most you would get out of jeno were vague nods or “mmhhhmmm” that always had you questioning if he was agreeing or disagreeing with you. It had seemed to become a sort of talent to be able to distinguish between the different noises that jeno would make, most of them when you were involved in the speech were negative. That is what one would gather from the low tone that would come from grunts, half of the time it was jeno not every really knowing what to say on the subject of the human body and it’s many muscles, he was a dance major he didn’t know. 

Five months and quarantine hits your city. It’s during moments in quarantine that you are grateful for it and the organized chaos it brings with it in the apartment. Well peace is you considered music blasting through the household as jeno practiced his dance and choreographed new routines while zooming with his even louder group of friends. The pumping music though made up because when you would see jeno a smile or the ghost of one would grace his features, and you two would at times, very small times would make conversation about the weather. Talking about the weather had truly just become a joke, as neither you or jeno could actually leave the apartment. Nevertheless, jeno never failed to remind you when it was going to rain, it was both sweet and slightly annoying you couldn’t quite decide. It was on rare days, when you would get back from a daily grocery shop run you would find dinner prepared. Too much of your surprise it had been edible the last two times he has cooked, and though not much conversation flowed between the two of you it seemed this hate to hate relationship had become a more of acquaintances to acquaintances. It was progress, and you couldn’t help but smile at it.   

There were times when you looked at him, times when you two though wouldn’t talk to each other but would decide that on that night you would maybe attempt to get along better. These scenarios tended to end up happening from the constant nagging that jaemin put you both through, a constant “just talk” and “i swear they aren’t as bad as you think” and you couldn’t forget his most recent one that drove you nuts to no end “are you sure you don’t just you know like him?”. The phone conversation tended to end with a beep the second those words left his mouth, only for jaemin to text you about it continually. You were happy when that jaemin lived so far away in those moments if not you were sure he would have died either from you or jeno. It was one of the rare things you two agreed on. 

“So… what movie do you wanna watch?” you posed the question, not expecting much of an answer apart from maybe a shrug or a complaint on why were the two of you doing this again. 

 “Ummm, are you good with avatar? I haven’t watched it in a while and the sequel is supposed to come out” the suggestion left you gaping at him, eyes wide at the fact he had directed more than five words to you.

“Hold up” the awe in your voice was very much present which caused jeno to turn around and look at you, “did you just actually give me a sentence?” you couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on your lips and it only grows when you see jeno, biting his lip a small attempt to stop his smile from showing. 

“And…” you move closer to him, sitting in front of him one hand pointing slightly at his lips, “are you smiling?” you can’t help the laughter that leaves your lips, and soon jeno has joined you. Though he stops quickly the moment you see him looking at you, a genuine smile on his face. 

“Whatever. Just play the movie” he grunts, shifting his boy to face the tv and hugging your cat next to him. If it weren’t for the fact that you were almost sure you’re cat loved jeno more than he loved you, even if jeno was allergic to them you would have tried to rob him back. But this was the most you’d gotten out of jeno and you sure as hell wasn’t about to ruin it.  

“I’m on it, i’m on it” you mumble, as you search through your disney+ account expecting to find the last few shows and movies you’d been binge-watching cars a childhood favorite of yours right at the top and avatar which at this point you almost thought you watched religiously right next to it. The moment the screen showed Cars, you heard a cough from beside you. Your glare on jeno made him look at you slightly eyes narrowing before he chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

“Why is Cars on here?” the question seemed to mock you and you only smiled. 

“Nostalgia. Why?” the movie brought up the fun and happy memories from when you were younger, you had watched it so many times the dvd had broken. 

“So it’s not because it’s just a bad movie and you wanted to make fun of it?” and just like that, you’re ready to fight jeno, even if the way his hair fell slightly across his eyes from not being cut in months, and the way is he moved just slightly you could see the muscles shift from beneath his white shirt. 

“Are you mocking Cars?” 

“Maybe. It has no emotional value” is his response, followed by a shrug as he turns again to face the tv eyes darting from the tv to you from his side-eye. Oh that’s it. You think bitterly before grabbing the pillow behind you and hitting jeno full face, your power yell leaving your lips. The thud the pillow makes as it collides with jeno’s face and the yelp that leaves his lips and you smile. 

“The fuck was that for?” he’s looking at you again, arms crossed against his chest, your cat no longer in sight.

“Because you” the emphasis on the word is caused by another hit in the shoulder, “have the emotional capacity of a brick.” jeno’s face is the only answer you need before you settle back into the couch, a proud grin adorning your face, until you are pulled by the waist a shriek leaving your lips. In some way you can’t fully understand you are now sitting on jeno’s lap, his face only centimeters from yours, and you can see the light specks of gold that swirl in his dark eyes. 

“No” the word is a whisper, and he moves closer to you, “i” you can feel his hands on your waist holding you in place “don’t” the movement is too fast for you too process but one moment your breaths are mixing and a noise you can’t place is in the background, and the next he’s kissing you. 

kissing jeno like everything related to jeno is nothing like you expected but everything you wanted. It’s slow and warm, and your hands come up behind his neck playing with the loose strands of hair. Kissing jeno is a new feeling, a way of conveying emotions when words between you two have always failed, and maybe just maybe it’s a confession because when you pull apart foreheads touching each other love-struck smiles on both of your faces you realize jeno isn’t that bad. 

“See?” a small peck to the lips, “my emotional capacity is beyond your reach” a grin replaces the small smile, “and i like you” another kiss, this time to the corner of your mouth and you thank the dark lights in the room from hiding the warmth from your cheeks. A small hmmm leaves your lips in response before you kiss him again, “i guess i like you too”

[k-meshus]

Ecstasy

Chapter 1: Prologue The lukewarm air coming from the vent above me left a tingling sensation on my face. After I got used to the rippling effect, i brought my self to bring my eyes open with great difficulty. Though the room, that I didn't know how I got into was dimly lit, every refraction of light was a great pain to the eyes, everything felt a lot bright. After my eyes adjusted to the surrounding light, I found out I was lying on a hospital bed, getting fed through a small tube they call a glucose, which I found its constant dropping very irritating. I was alone. There was nobody that came to check. Maybe I've been here for weeks, months or even years. And they all just gave up on me. As that freakish thought crept upon me, I heard footsteps hurrying towards the room I was in. I saw the white gown of a tall, middle aged doctor enter. Closely followed by my mom, whose face was showing a mixture of emotions. Fear, relief and anxiousness. Which all turned into a face of disappointment the next second. Maybe that explained it. Whatever it was, whatever I did...it was not good. Chapter 2: Tickets To Nothingness 4 months ago I grabbed the bottle of pills from under my bed as I hurriedly tried to leave for school. I'm not a morning person. I dont get up early, always late. I hear my mom repeatedly shouting my name from the other room. The pounding pain in my head was too obstructive too answer her. I made a low groaning voice to let her know I heard her. I dragged myself down the stairs and into the car after I kissed her bye. The ever so annoying questions about my mood from dad were what always greeted me when I entered the car, or anyone and anywhere for that matter. "Nothing," I gave my usual reply. Unsatisfied with the answer as always, we drove out. I got in to class swerving the everyday rant about my lateness from various teachers. But I first made a detour to the bathroom to take 2 blue, round pills and went to class. I made my way to the back of the class and sat back. Felt a tugging to my right. I turned to see the smiling face of Mary. My first friend I made when I moved to this school last year. She was short, a bit chubby and almost always in a good mood. You'd always see her laughing or talking with anyone she thinks is fun. She was very approachable. "Look alive!" She said laughing for whatever reason, grabbing her seat next to me. "I would if I was" i replied, beaming at her. She knew I was on some thing from my slurred speach. She didn't make any comment about it, as it was the norm to go to class high. "Ugh. Math and physics back to back on a monday! Its the Worst" she exclaimed. I nodded in agreement. I was never the one to talk, bring up ideas or getting involved on pretty much anything. I'm just there to give my opinions and observe other's. And see them get to a decision whether i agree or not. "They never fail to bring the days to the worst," I said. "And there you go," she said, softly laughing and setting up her books. "What do you mean?" I asked even though I knew where this was going. "Your thoughts, and these things you say that are generally not...uhh what's the word here? Not bright I guess" "Did I lie?" I asked. "Well no but, you know? Somethings are better not said. Better kept in. Whether the truth or not," she said, still smiling. "Yeah yeah. Whatever you say," I replied The dreadful monday classes finally came to an end. As I was lifting my bag to leave I heard my name and turned around. It was Nate. A shorter than average guy with face as clear as milk. "Wanna go to the game zone? Get your ass kicked on some playstation soccer?" He asked. "Sorry I got places to get to. Been a really tiring day." I lied. "Alright maybe tomorrow then," he said, heaving his bag to leave. "Sure" I replied to his back. I didn't have places to go. I just honestly wanted to get home to my bed. Not that it was better than school, but at least I'll be alone. Nor was it a much tiring day than the others. I don't notice the days passing by. They all seem like an endless hour. They've all merged together to create an endless loop. Their lines blurred. As I was running low on my tickets to nothingness, I made a detour to my friend Lukas's house. He was my plug. I don't know by exactly how much but he was a bit older than me. Tall, dark skinned and fit, he was a cool dude. He wouldn't sell anything he doesn't believe in. Or anything you can easily overdose on. He was one of those rare dealers thats not in just purely for the money, but also for other people's timely joy. I rapped on the door thrice. I saw his face emerge from the kitchen through his cracked window. He opened the door to let me in. The place was shabby but enough. Light coming from two lamps on either side of the house, a ragged mat was what greeted you on your first step in. But a bright white light shines from the kitchen. That was where he usually operated. He never really seeked much luxury. He was a simple guy. As I entered, the smell of multitude of pills in all different shapes and sizes was suffocating. There was a small bottle of yellowish liquid on the small table that supported itself against the couch. Whatever it was it clearly was not orange juice, since there was a syringe lying next to it. "I thought you met your creator," he said making his way back to the kitchen. "I figured you might come so I was just prepping your stash" his voice came, through the sounds of opening and closing drawers. "Yeah, been a week right? Didn't have much time to get around. Your stuff been lasting longer" I said, Grabbing a cigarette from his TV stand. "I keep telling you, quality is what I seek," he said, coming from the kitchen holding a small plastic bag with smiles on his face. It was true, his supplies were never disappointing. After I lit the cigarette and took two, long, well deserved draws from it, I asked, "So what's in the bag?" "A bottle of xannys, small bag of mollys, 3 tabs of 450ug acid, and on the house, two rolls of mj." He answered. I took another drag, grabbed whatever money from my pocket and gave him. We both know it wasn't enough. But he also knows I'm never late to pay my debts. "Don't get yourself killed Luc. Or worse, go to jail," I joked, as i got up making my way to the door. "You'll bail me out homie," he said, before I closed the door. Mine and Lukas's relationship was not a dealer-buyer relationship. It was more like "a friend who sold drugs and I buy it from him but we don't hang out much" kind of relationship. I dropped the cigarette on the puddle by his door and made my way home. "Where were you?" Was the question that came from my mom as I got in. "I met a friend from my old school and we were catching up," I lied. "You better not be up to something funny," she warned. "I never am", I said proudly opening my room door. She never trusted me. She once caught me smoking a cigarette on the backyard. Well, not exactly caught red handed but she smelled it as I was making my to the bathroom to wash up. I knew it was obvious so i didn't bother lying. I just admitted it. But even before this she never trusted me. I don't know what she thinks I'll be doing but she wants to know where I am and what I am doing every second. "Dinner!" she yelled. "I've eaten," I yelled back, as i started crushing a pill which Lukas didn't tell what it was. I made it's way through my nose and lied back on my bed. I heard a message from my phone and took it out to reply. But I couldn't type a word. Something from inside me was holding me back. Then I realized it was the pill doing its job. My muscles were uncontrollable. My jaws clenched and I histerically laughed at my own disability. It was a little scary since I've never taken anything with similar effects. But I completely trust Lukas on my life. He wouldn't sell me anything he thinks is harmful on small doses. Getting to the bathroom was difficult but manageable. I sprayed some water on my face, and saw my eyes were dilated and bloodshot red. I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and saw my dad was there. "Hey," I said, through a slurred voice walking past him to the sink. I always talked in low and slurry voices even when I'm not high. And people can't tell the difference anymore. "How's class?" He asked, for the sake of it. "Good," I replied for the same reason. "Dont forget your homeworks," mom warned. I ignored her and went back to my room. I laid back again and stared at the cealing. It appeared to be zooming in and out. Colourful patterns everywhere on it, easing my anxiety filled and overthinking brain. Whatever this drug was, whatever it cost, it gave much of the feeling I look for. Not exactly joy or laughter or a general euphoria. But the feeling of nothing. Yes that feeling where your mind doesn't proccess anything. Your entire body is just resting. Or better yet, completely turned off. Where you lie where ever you are and think of... nothing. That feeling. Whether it lasted 2 seconds or 2 hours was what I sought. And what I currently got.