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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

288 notes · View notes

wholesomemendes · 3 years

Note

Omg congrats on 1k🥳🥳 concept- a blurb about love languages and like ur guys styles are diff lil angst pls heheheh

Author's Note: Hiiiiiii. How are you lovies? I know you probably all hate me cause I just disappeared but hopefully this will kinda make up for it for those of you who are actually still here. Fun fact never used the queue before so we'll see how that goes. Also I vaguely remember the read more thing not working that well with asks, but I don't remember what I used to do to fix that so hopefully this works. Love all of you and miss you *mwah* please interact with me so I get more motivation lol

The second the door shuts to the condo you share with your love, you can already hear his unmistakable voice call out for you, “Baby, come here! I have a surprise for you!” You roll your eyes, knowing that some insanely expensive gift was probably waiting for you around that corner. Shawn wasn’t the type to randomly spend a large portion of his money on things he didn’t need, but when it came to you, there was no limit to his spending. Anytime he saw something that reminded him of you or that he thought you’d look stunning in, he couldn’t stop himself from swiping his card. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate the copious amount of gifts he gave you; you knew he meant well and that one of his love languages was giving gifts. However, as someone who was raised to be independent and not accept “handouts” from anyone, you found it hard to be constantly given things you didn’t work for and you didn’t believe you deserved yet. You didn’t find it fair that you weren’t at that stage in your life where you could gift Shawn something as expensive as what he gives you, but you constantly get those things from him. It wouldn’t have phased you as much if it was just for holidays, but this was an almost every other day occurrence and no matter how many times you told him not to buy things for you, he never seemed to listen.

You sighed, putting your purse on the table and making your way towards the bedroom, desperately wishing you could just relax into a warm bath after your hard day at work instead of facing whatever your loving boyfriend had in store for you. Opening the door you were met with Shawn’s smiling face, a large box with the word Gucci written in bold lettering across it. You put on a fake smile as your heart sank. This couldn’t be what you thought it was could it? “Hey,” he put the box next to him in favor of pulling you onto his lap, “How was work today?” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and for a moment, you let yourself get pulled into the utter bliss that was Shawn Mendes.

“I won’t lie, not the greatest,” you sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why, what happened?” he asked, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer.

“It was just insane today and my boss was in a bad mood and...I don’t know it was just bad and I’m exhausted.”

“Well, I think I have something that might cheer you up!”

“Shawn…,” you said in a mix of a whine and a stern tone, “I told you no more.”

“I know, I know,” he rushed out, placing the box in your hands, “I just want to spoil my girl. I can afford to do so and there’s no one else that deserves it more than you do.” It hurt your heart to hear him talk like that when not a single part of you felt you deserved it. You were nowhere close to where you wanted to be in your life career wise and you certainly weren’t near Shawn’s level of success. “Just open it, please?” he gave you his softest puppy dog eyes that always made you cave.

“Ok…” Opening up the box your heart stopped. There lying in the delicate paper was one of the most beautiful handbags you had ever seen; the one you had secretly been saving up for for almost a year now. You thought you had hid it from him so well, always looking at it when he wasn’t there to make sure you could still get it, and even putting together a small envelope of extra money to use towards it. This was supposed to be your first big designer purchase in honor of your huge promotion at work a little under a year ago today, but of course Shawn had to go and ruin it all for you.

Meanwhile, Shawn was oblivious to the disappointment and resentment brewing inside of you. “Do you like it?” he asked with the biggest smile, “I noticed the tab open on your computer last week when I borrowed it for those pictures and thought you liked it!”

“Why would you do this?” you whispered, a crack forming in your voice.

“What?”

“Why would you do this?” you almost snapped at him, looking at him with tears that held mixed emotions.

“B- because I love you,” he stammered, not having prepared to have this reaction. In his head you were going to come home, see the gift, smother him in thank you kisses, and maybe, just maybe, you would make love to him for the rest of the night. Never in his wildest dreams did it end up like this.

“If you loved me you would have listened to me and not bought this, or anything for that matter!” you exclaimed as you stood up off his lap, “I’ve told you so many times I don’t want you buying anything for me but you never listen!”

“I- I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“No that’s the thing, you didn’t think! I just- god, Shawn, this was it, the one thing I was going to do for myself after all these years. I was only $100 away from my goal, I was right there! But you can’t just think with your head for one second and think about how your girlfriend who always tells you that you don’t need to buy things for her might be planning on finally achieving one of her goals of having enough money to spend it on something like this!”

If your eyes weren’t filled with tears and you weren’t so blinded by your emotions you might have been able to see Shawn’s heart visibly breaking on the bed, leaving him looking like a hurt puppy. “I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll, I’ll return the bag or or you can pay me back for it so it’s like you bought it yourself!”

“You don’t understand because you’ve never had any problems with money. It’s not the same anymore, Shawn. No matter what, all I’ll be reminded of is that you bought it first and not me.”

“What can I do? I, I swear I’ll do anything,” his voice cracked as his own tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t know. I need to go.” You knew you were being dramatic, but after 2 years of the same thing with Shawn over and over again you had reached your breaking point.

“No please, I’ll fix this I promise,” he pleaded, standing up to face you.

You successfully avoided him so you could grab a small bag with your things, “Shawn, I need space for at least one night.”

He reached out for you this time, his large hand grabbing your arm desperately to turn you around, “Please, don’t go. I won’t buy you anything else, I swear!”

“It’s not that I just, I don’t know. I’m upset and I’m tired and my head is all over the place and…” His large hands cupped your jaw and pressed his lips hard against yours, giving you no space to pull away. The slight taste of salt from both of your tears on your lips broke your heart more than it was before. It was hard to explain why you weren’t fighting him on this kiss; it was almost as if he was kissing you so that it was easier to let you go for the night.

His lips released yours reluctantly with a sigh, “I’ll pack my things for the night. You stay here.”

“Shawn…”

“No, I was the one who messed up so I should be the one who has to leave. I still have a backpack I never unpacked from when I got back from LA last week and I can stay with my parents for however long you want. I- ,” he looked down shamefully, his hands finally dropping from your face. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy, but I wasn’t even thinking of what would really make you happy. Just, just tell me when you’re ready for me to come back home.”

He made his way through the bedroom, grabbing his phone, wallet, backpack and guitar before making his way through the door. Your heart cried out to go after your love, but your feet stayed planted almost in shock of everything that just happened. You were still mad at him, upset with him, and if it was possible, even more upset and mad at yourself. So as much as you wanted to run after him, you let him walk away with half your heart in his hands.

____________________________

“Mom?” you sniffled as you sat on the edge of your bed, the infamous handbag discarded next to you as if it was taunting you.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” the soft voice of your mother filled the speaker.

“I messed up,” you confessed, “I really messed up and I don’t...I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath, dear, and tell me what happened. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“I don’t know if it can. I’m a horrible person!”

“You are not a horrible person. Now tell me exactly what happened.”

She listed carefully as a mother does while you went through moment through moment of your lash out with Shawn, up until the point where he left. “I feel terrible, Mom. This was just the one thing I had planned to do for myself and he never took into account how I would feel about this even though I constantly tell him how I feel about gift giving.”

“Sweetheart, I know you so badly want to be an independent woman and there’s nothing wrong with that. But you’re in a relationship now which means not everything you do can be independent. Think about it from his point of view: all of these things he gets you he gets out of love. He doesn’t do it because he wants you to rely on him for money, he knows you’re not with him for that and it’s probably one of the reasons he loves you so much; you treat him like a regular person. Not someone who is just a pretty face that can buy you whatever you want and get you fame. However, he is someone with money and that means he can afford these things for you. It’s not to belittle any of your accomplishments in your career or financially because we both know how supportive he is of you. It’s simply because he wants to show you he’s thinking about you and spoil you to make you happy. I know gifts aren’t one of your main love languages, but it’s definitely one of his. I bet if you had told him about this bag and how much it meant to you instead of hiding it from him, he would have never dreamed of taking it away from you. I understand your immediate frustration, but maybe think about if you’re truly upset with him about this or if you’re upset with yourself for not being able to reciprocate.”

“You’re right, Mom.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m your mother!” she let out a light hearted laugh, “But seriously, go apologize to that boy. He’s probably beating himself up over this.”

____________________________

“Are you and Dad home right now?”

“Yes, why is something wrong?”

“Can’t I just be coming over to say hello?”

“Of course you can, but I can tell by your voice that something is wrong.”

A sad smile formed on his face at the fact that even over a car speaker, his mom was still able to read him like a book. “Y/n and I got into a fight.”

“Oh no,” his mother gasped, never hearing many difficulties between the two, “What happened?”

“It’s my fault, Mom, I was being selfish,” he replied defeated, his guilty heart weighing down on him, “You know how I love to give gifts right? Well, Y/n isn’t always the biggest fan of it because she loves being independent. But I can’t help it! She’s the first person who hasn’t been overjoyed over every gift I give her and I never understand because I just want her to be happy and I know they’re things she would like so...I just don’t think! I don’t know why I can’t take a hint and just do what she wants me to do! I just want to make her happy, Mom, and feel loved and all I’ve done is annoy her and upset her!”

“Ok, before you keep going on this self-deprecated spiral, I need you to tell me what happened. And no more blaming yourself until I’ve heard everything.” So he did. And just like the conversation unfolding back at his home, his own mother listened to every word he had to say.

“From my understanding,” she began, “And I’m not saying this to try to defend you, but it sounds like she is battling some problems of her own.”

“No, you don’t understand, I wasn’t listening to her…”

“Oh will you hush! I wasn’t finished. Could you lay off the gifts and make them every once in a while? Of course. However, I believe her outburst today had something to do with some financial conflicts she is facing and maybe just an overall bad mood. You’re not perfect, obviously you need to tone down the gifts just a little bit, but you were definitely not in the full wrong here. There was no way she could have expected you to know about her intentions and plans so you can’t blame that on yourself. She definitely felt that she had to hide it from you in fear that you wouldn’t listen, which might be another issue if she believes that you aren’t willing to budge on your point of view. But you should not go beating yourself up over this! She’ll come around to her senses and you two will be fine.”

“Thank you, Mom. I hope so, I miss her already,” Shawn pouted, wishing so desperately that he was driving back home instead of away from it.

“Of course. Now I’ll make sure your room is all ready for whenever you get here and I’ll stay up to give you a big hug. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, I’ll be there in…” the sight of your name popping up on his center console broke him from his thoughts, “Wait, Mom, she’s calling me. I’ll call you back.”

“Good luck honey!”

With shaky hands, he hit answer on the phone, “Shawn?”

Even just hearing his name out of your mouth brought him comfort, “Yes? Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean I’m not fine, but physically I’m fine. Anyways, I’m going to ramble so I’ll just try to say this quick before I stray too far away from what I was going to say and before I get myself even more worked up again because who knows how long…”

“Y/n,” he stopped you, knowing you would ramble on forever, “Why did you call me?”

“Please come home.” His heart nearly lept out of his chest at your words, not needing to hear anymore. “I’m so sorry, Shawn. I should never have lashed out at you and…”

“Don’t say anything else. I don’t want to do this over the phone. I love you, please don’t apologize and I’ll be home in half an hour.”

“But, Shawn…”

“I love you and I’ll see you soon.” With that he hung up the phone and sped his way back through the Toronto streets to the girl he loved most.

____________________________

The second you heard the door open you ran to launch your body into his arms, abandoning your previous post of walking holes in the floor. He gladly accepted you against him, holding you tight in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” you pleaded, new tears rimming at your eyes, “Please forgive me.”

“Shushh, we both can apologize in a second. I just want to hold you.” Shawn maneuvered the two of you back onto your bed with you in his lap, still clinging onto him for dear life. He felt your tears wetting his shirt and while it broke his heart to know you were

hurting, he hoped that being close to you for these few more moments would show that he wasn’t mad at you. After a couple minutes passed, he loosened his grasp on you, “Y/n look at me.” You did as told, revealing your tearful eyes to him. “I’m not mad at you,” he promised as he wiped your tears away, “I’m not upset with you in any way. I forgive you for whatever you feel you need to be forgiven for and I hope you can say the same with me.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you protested, “You did nothing but try to show me love and make me happy and I’m so sorry I couldn’t look past my own selfish issues. Talking with my mom made me realize that the reason I have always been so apprehensive to receiving your gifts is because I’m not at the point in my career that I thought I would be and I'm letting out my resentment at myself on you. I know how wrong that is of me and I am so sorry for it. There’s nothing wrong with you expressing your love through gifts and I can’t express how sorry I am for making you believe that you were the issue.”

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have talked with you about this and taken into account how you didn’t respond the same way as my friends and family when I give them things and should have taken a step back. I realize my gifts are excessive and I will work to tone them back so they are more special. I love you, Y/n. Even being away from you for an hour after a fight was too much for me to bear.”

“I love you, too. I hated being away from you more than anything.” He kissed your lips passionately, transferring every emotion he had for you into that kiss. Hands caressed your body as yours held him tighter in fear of him disappearing and neither of you wanted to relive this night ever again. “Shawn?” you whispered against his lips, receiving a hum in response, “Thank you for the bag. I can’t wait to tell everyone how my loving and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me.”

“You don’t have to, I can return it.”

“Return it? This is my dream bag and the fact that you wanted to get it for me because you could tell I wanted it means a lot even though I had the absolute worst way of showing it.”

“Stop,” he kissed you again, “I don’t want you to worry about it any longer. Let me just love on you how I had planned tonight.” And while it might not have been the way Shawn had planned the night to go, he was ending it exactly how he wanted to.

164 notes · View notes

themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

When It’s Cold (6)

*We stan open communication, patience, and informed, enthusiastic consent when it comes to acts of sex baby! That being said I have gotten a lot more comfortable and better at writing smut (imho) so compared to smut I have written in the past this is more detailed and thus a lot raunchier sounding than anything you may have read by me before. Just wanted to put that out there before we go diving into this. Also, if I have not somehow made this clear enough already: SMUTTY CHAPTER AHEAD!*

~~~

Felix woke up a little stiff but otherwise happy. You were still asleep next to him. At some point in the night you both had turned over so he was spooning you. You fit into him like a puzzle piece. He really could get used to waking up like this.

You shifted in your sleep your back nestling further against his body. Felix froze as he realized that there was another part of him that had woken up this morning. Of all the days he could wake up with morning wood it had to choose the morning he was sleeping next to you and your ass was pressed right up against him. Okay. No matter. He can just move back so it isn’t touching you.

Felix slid his hips back from you but your body followed when he tried to pull away. He couldn’t push you away either since you were holding his free arm to your chest. Now that he was thinking about it Felix could feel exactly what it was his trapped hand was touching. So it seemed he was in a very awkward position. Your ass pressed against his erect dick and refusing to put space between it and his hand resting over one of your breasts where you kept it held. He really didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment that would come if you were to wake up while you two were like this.

He could just push you away and make a run for it. No. You didn’t deserve to be woken up like that. He started thinking of things to get his erection to go down but it persisted. It really wasn’t helped by the fact that you kept wiggling your butt against it either. If you kept squirming around it was never gonna go away.

“Hmm,” Your voice whined and pressed against him harder. You kept making small little noises as you squirmed and it suddenly dawned on Felix what was happening. You were having a dirty dream and were using the feeling of his erection between your thighs to get yourself off.

Oh this was conflicting.

He could either stay in place and let you ride this out, pun intended, and hope that you didn’t wake up or if you did wake up he could pretend to still be asleep and you could deal with any embarrassment on your own. There was also the chance that he could wake you up and you two could be mature about this situation and laugh it off in mutual embarrassment. Hell, it might even evolve into actual sex if he played his cards right. Then again he could still just run away and you two would never need to speak of this morning ever again.

He needed to make a decision soon because you were only getting more eager in your motions. Your breath was coming harder and he knew you would wake yourself up soon if he didn’t do anything. Damn it. Why did this have to feel so good?

“Hey,” Felix whispered, “Wake up. Time to get up, little girl.”

“Huh?” Your eyes were bleary but open, “Ugh…” You pressed into him again, still not fully awake. “Felix?”

“Right here,” He said, “You need to wake up now. You’re kinda...um...you are kinda rubbing…” Felix couldn’t get the words out. His face felt red hot.

“Rubbing?” You squinted over your shoulder at him. He sighed and glanced down at the lower half of your bodies. You looked down too and with a yelp leapt away from him. “Oh my god! Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay,” Felix mumbled. He grabbed a pillow from the armchair to cover his lap. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You had your face hidden in your hands. Felix took a deep breath. You were so beautiful in the morning. Your bedhead and rumpled pajamas was the softest thing he had ever seen. He really wished he could have enjoyed it longer.

“Did I…” You whispered, your face still pointed away from him, “Did I cause it to be like that?” You pointed lamely to the pillow on his lap.

Felix gulped and clutched the pillow tighter. This line of questioning wasn’t helping to get rid of it.

“No,” Felix said, “Not in the way you’re thinking. It was already like that when I woke up you just kept it like that.”

“Oh god!” You groaned. You grabbed one of the blankets from the floor and pulled it over your head to hide. “This is mortifying.”

“Is it?” Felix said before he could think better of it. “Is it so bad to think that you may desire me the same way I desire you?”

“You what?” One of your eyes peeped out from your blanket cocoon.

“You heard what I said.” Felix took a deep breath. “I like you. I find you attractive. Why does it have to be embarrassing? It’s like you said: it’s just us here. Can we be honest without shame?”

“This is a lot to process first thing in the morning.” You were dodging. Felix didn’t blame you. He was trying to have a conversation you just weren’t ready for. Even though he knew you desired him you just weren’t ready to admit it to him yet. It hurt but he wouldn’t push you.

“It is rather early,” Felix sighed in defeat, “I’m gonna go get a shower.”

~~~

Felix walked past me and went up the stairs to his bedroom. My face was still uncomfortably hot as I replayed the morning’s events back in my mind. I had been having a pleasant dream about Felix. Instead of the hot and heavy dreams I was used to it was softer. Still sexual but it wasn’t dirty. In my dream he was making love to me. Sweet words whispered in my ear as he kissed me. When I woke up I almost didn’t realize I wasn’t dreaming anymore until Felix told me I was rubbing my ass up against him.

I had never felt more embarrassed! It also didn’t help that I was still turned on to the point I couldn’t even look at him lest I crawl back into his lap. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. What must he have been thinking when he woke up to me doing that?

But that wasn’t the entire story, was it? Felix had said he desired me. He wasn’t mortified by the experience like I was. He had been so sweet and honest about the entire situation while I cowered under my blanket. Why am I trying to avoid this? It’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks! He practically told me I’d be more than welcome in his bed and I turned him down. What is wrong with me?!

I need to fix this.

I shot to my feet and ran upstairs. I paced outside of Felix’s room for a few minutes before swallowing back my nerves and going in. Felix wasn’t in the bedroom. I heard the sound of running water and remembered that he said he was gonna get a shower.

This felt eerily familiar.

I lingered in the doorway debating if I should leave and come back in a few minutes when he was finished or stay and wait. As I was trying to think of what to do the water turned off and Felix emerged from the bathroom.

It didn’t seem like he had noticed I was there as he strolled across the room over to his dresser.

Keep my eyes up, do not look down at his naked torso. Everything will be fine.

“Uh Felix?”

“Geez!” Felix jumped. The towel around his hips started to slip and he grabbed at it to keep it from falling. “Damn it woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing skulking in my door?”

“Sorry, I just…” I entered the room and let the door fall shut behind me. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And this couldn’t wait until after I got clothes on?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think that through. I just wanted to say that I didn’t feel right about the way things were left downstairs. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about liking you. Probably because I haven’t ever liked anyone like I like you before. I certainly have never really wanted anyone like I want you and that scares me too. But I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want you to think that I’m pushing you away because I’m ashamed of what I feel. I do find you attractive and I do want more out of this relationship but it’s daunting. I don’t know where I would even start.”

“Darling,” Felix sighed, he cupped my face in his large hands and bent down to kiss me. “We start right here. We start by admitting what we want. We can take it as slow or as fast as you want to. We have more than enough time to explore together. Okay?”

“Okay.” I stood on my toes and pulled him down for another kiss. It was quickly turning heated and Felix pushed me away. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m still only wearing a towel.” He said, “And you are turning into a tent if you get my meaning.”

“Oh…” I blushed. I gazed into his pale slate blue eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

Felix’s eyes went wide. “You can’t just say stuff like that to me.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I might end up taking you up on it.”

“That’s exactly why I said it though.”

“You know what you’re getting yourself into, little girl?”

“I hope so.” I threaded my fingers with his, “And for your information I am not a little girl. Not in height and certainly not in age.”

“Are you sure about that, small fry?” Felix chuckled, “Looking kinda short from up here.”

“This is a perfectly normal height!” I protested, “You’re just freakishly tall! You know what? Forget it. I rescind my offer. Have fun of taking care of that on your own.”

“I’m sorry,” Felix tugged on my hand keeping me close, “I can’t help but tease you. Come back.”

He ran a free hand through my hair. His gaze searching mine. “I want you to. God knows how much I want you to but I don’t want you to do it if it isn’t what you really want. Don’t go thinking you have to jump into the deep end to keep me happy. I’ll still want you regardless.”

“I’m not behaving irrationally, Felix.” I told him, “I want to do this and, y’know, maybe in exchange you can...help me…?”

“Brave girl,” Felix smirked before kissing me again. He was leaning back against the dresser. His hands wandered from my hips up into my hair and down again. I felt something poke against my stomach and tried not to squeak like was my knee jerk reaction.

“Still want to do this?” Felix whispered. His voice was a lot deeper than before. It sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.

“Yes please.”

Felix took a deep breath and nodded. With trembling hands I untucked the towel from his hips and it fell to the floor. I was staring directly into Felix’s chest. I wasn’t sure what to do now that I had him naked. I had many fantasies but trying to re-enact them had me trembling with anticipation and fears of inadequacy.

“Need me to help guide you?” Felix spoke softly.

I nodded dumbly. Felix tilted my chin up to kiss me. His other hand rested over my dominant hand and pressed it to his chest. Slowly he moved it down lower, all the while his mouth was still on mine. I felt wiry hairs touch my hand and I flinched.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Felix whispered against my lips, “You’re alright, darling. Nothing to be scared of here. Just keep your eyes on me.”

I took in a deep breath and relaxed once more. With his hand still over mine he guided it along his cock. Letting me get a feel for what it felt like to touch it. His breathing was calculated and slow, trying to retain a sense of composure as he moved my hand over him and palmed the tip. He hissed through clenched teeth and kissed me again a bit more desperately.

“Are you good to keep going?” He asked.

“Yes.” My own voice felt faraway.

Felix moved my hand back down to the base and wrapped my fingers along the shaft. With his hand still around mine he moved it up and down his cock in sure slow movements. His wrist flicked and twisted slightly as we went. He was breathing hard now and I could tell he was trying not to moan or buck into my hand.

“Felix,” I kissed at his shoulder, “You can enjoy yourself. Don’t be so worried about scaring me off. Let me take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

I bit back a smile as I removed his hand from around mine so it was just me pleasuring him. I watched his face closely seeing what he liked and how to respond. It was so strange seeing this boy who was usually so stoic and rigid release his inhibitions and react how he wanted to in my grasp. I felt a surge of power as I started pumping him faster, the sound of his moans getting louder. Half mumbled words as his hips bucked against my fist. He kept one hand gripped on the lip of the dresser while the other held tightly to me.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his eyes were screwed shut, a small bead of perspiration gathered on his brow, “Fuck, I--” He broke off into wanton moans again.

“It’s alright, Felix. I want you to.” I trailed my lips along his chest, “Please Felix.”

He roared my name and bucked harder into my hand. Warm spurts of milky cum coating my hand in the process.

Felix panted as he rode out the tail end of his orgasm. Our eyes met and he pulled me to him crushing his lips to mine. “So I did a good job?” I chuckled against his lips.

“You were perfect, darling.” He collected his towel from the ground and wiped the cum from my hand. “Sorry about the mess. Looks like I got a bit on your pants too.”

“They needed washed anyway.” I shrugged.

“It’s your turn now.” He said. My eyes widened and he snorted. “Did you forget about that part?”

“A little. Got caught up in the moment with you.” I blushed harder. Felix brought me to him again for a sweet lingering kiss. “But I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” He grinned, “Chuck your pants in my hamper and sit on the bed for me.”

“Okay.” I turned to go.

“Oh, put this in there too while you’re over there.” Felix threw his towel at me. I caught it and tossed it in the bathroom hamper before stripping out of my pajama pants and tossing them in as well. I sat at the edge of Felix’s bed wearing only my panties and a sleep shirt.

Felix had pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt while I was waiting. My whole body was growing more jittery with every step he took towards me. It was a good kind of jittery though. My body thrummed with anticipation.

He sat down next to me. His hands caressed my face and left small kisses along my nose and cheeks. “I guided you, now you need to guide me.” He said, “Show me what to do. What you like.”

“Right,” I shook off my nerves. Shouldn’t be too hard, I just need him to do what I usually do when I’m alone. I can start slow. No need to rush.

I leaned closer and kissed him. As we kissed I moved his hand down to the hem of my shirt and slid it under so he was touching my bare skin. My skin tingled in the wake of his touch. His other hand followed as I encouraged him to touch my breasts. I moaned into his mouth.

“Soft,” Felix murmured, “I knew you’d be soft.”

“And your hands are rough.” I laughed slightly. Felix grimaced and started to withdraw before I pressed him back to me. “It’s okay. I kinda like it.”

I let him go so he could rub and play with my breasts. My shirt was hiked up and I quickly took it off so it was out of the way. He groaned next to me and after a nod from me he started peppering kisses along my chest. He took one of my nipples into his mouth and sucked on it.

The ache between my legs was getting stronger. “Felix,” I took one of his hands and started leading it lower down my body. “I need you to touch me now.”

“With pleasure, darling.” We laid down against the bed. “Show me what to do.”

“First, I like to play with my clit until I feel ready.” His hand slid beneath the band of my panties and I whined when he touched my clit. He rubbed it in sure slow swipes, circling it with care as I moaned next to him.

“You’re really wet,” He said. “Do I make you feel that good, little girl?”

“Yes,” I gasped as he sped up slightly. I clung onto him tighter, my face buried in his shoulder. “Want to make me feel even better?”

“Of course,”

“Slide one finger inside me,” I instructed. Felix listened and I let out a moan that was half yelp.

“Did I hurt you?” Felix asked, concerned.

“No, it’s just um,” I shuddered around him, “Your fingers are longer than mine so you can get deeper than I normally can. It feels really good.”

“Good, now what would like me to do?”

I instructed him on taking me slowly. Curling his finger and letting my cunt stretch before he added another. I was starting to lose coherency as he began pumping his fingers in and out of me. Curling and scissoring my wet, aching cunt until I couldn’t form words anymore. He kissed my neck, whispered words of praise in my ear as my pleasure was driven higher and higher. I risked a glance down and nearly came at the sight of Felix’s hand in between my legs. It was so strange to see something I pictured so clearly in my mind actually happening.

“Felix,” I moaned, grasping onto him like my sanity depended on it. “Feels good...almost--almost--need more!”

“What do you need? Tell me how to please you.”

“Clit. Rub my clit.” I begged.

His other hand went down and started rapidly swiping and circling my clit. I shouted as stars danced before my eyes. I was gonna cum any second now. “Felix! Fuck Felix, I’m gonna--I--”

“Do it,” His voice was dripping with desperation, “Please darling, I want you to cum. I want to know you feel good. Please cum for me darling.”

“Felix!” I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as my orgasm washed over me. My pussy clenching tight over his fingers which were still coaxing me through my orgasm to draw it out as long as possible. I rocked against him, my shouts turning into whimpers as tiny post orgasmic shockwaves rolled through my body.

“I got you,” Felix whispered, “I got you. You were so wonderful for me, darling. I’m glad I could make you feel good.”

“Not just good,” I mumbled happily, “Fucking fantastic is what it felt like.”

“Happy to hear it.” He popped the fingers that had just been in my pussy into his mouth licking the juices off. He licked his lips with a smile. “I knew you would taste good too.”

“I cannot believe you just did that.” I hid my face in his chest, “Why did you do that in front of me?!”

“Because as splendid as this morning has been I have not had anything to eat yet today and I figured I had a good enough snack right here.”

“Felix!” My face felt like it was on fire.

“Stop hiding, if you can’t take it when I lick you off my fingers how are you going to handle when I have my head between your legs drinking it up straight from the source?”

“You what?!” I snapped my head up so fast I hit him in the jaw. “Ow, sorry,”

“Okay, that might have been a little too intense for an after handjob pillow talk. I concede that.” Felix rubbed his jaw, “How about we cool things down for the rest of the day? You go clean yourself up, get a shower, put on something comfy. I’ll go make us something to eat and we can watch whatever movie you want. Sound good?”

I rolled on top of him and kissed him. I didn’t care if I could taste myself on his tongue (It was kinda hot if I was honest with myself). I just wanted to express these deep feelings stirring inside that I couldn’t adequately express. If this wasn’t love then I don’t know what else it could possibly be.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Felix chuckled, “Now can you get off me? As much as I would love to keep you here in my bed for the rest of the day I did promise you food and a movie.”

“If I must,” I rolled off him and collected my shirt from the ground. With a final look at Felix I smiled and scampered out of the room back to my own. I think this has to be the best morning I’ve ever had.

---

(Previous) (Next)

#now if you will excuse me i am gonna go stare at a wall #felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #roommate au #smut

90 notes · View notes

versegm · 4 years

Text

It starts, as many things do, with a letter.

White paper, messy handwriting. Folded in half in a small envelope and slipped under her door.

Of course, the letter itself doesn’t matter so much as the words written on it.

“A love note?” Nitocris raises both eyebrows in surprise. “Who is it from?”

“It wasn’t signed.” Ereshkigal answers. “But it was, uh. Quite generous in compliments.”

“As it should be. You’re a queen, after all.” Nitocris nods to herself. Ereskigal wishes she had the same confidence as her-

“Hey, girls!” A preppy voice rises from the door. “How y’all doing?”

“Great! Just great!” Ereshkigal hurriedly answers. She turns around with a wild smile, eager to change the subject. She can’t let them know she can’t let them know “How about you, Astolfo?”

Ereshkigal doesn’t know who the writer of these letters are. She does know, however, who she’d like them to be.

Because the thing about Astolfo, is-

“You’re staring again. Do I have something on my face?”

they’re handsome.

Pretty. Beautiful. Asu-shu-namir shaped Ereskigal’s taste in people for her whole life, sue her. She can’t help feeling weak before this smooth skin, this perfect hair, this high-pitched voice. She can’t help feeling weak before these strong arms, this broad chest, this sharp jaw.

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“The Underworld? Yeah, I’ve been there once! Not Kur, obviously. The one I went to was neat, though. It was fun.”

they’re soothing.

There’s something about them, the unmistakable mark of the Underworld, just below their skin. Not like the undead. It’s much closer to her or Nitocris. Someone with ties to down there, even back when they were alive.

Ereshkigal loves the Overworld, and loves living beings. But she can’t deny that they’re a little… overwhelming. A bit of familiarity is, welcome.

(“Aw, thanks! You feel the same, actually! A fellow Moon-dweller.”

“I… never went there, though?”

“It might just be that you don’t remember. The Moon is where everything lost lies. People can end there too, when they’re lost or forgotten. It’s hard work getting them back down.”)

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Oh, do you need help with that? Here, let me!”

they’re kind.

Overwhelmingly so. They get into trouble more often than not, and many think it’s because they love chaos, (which, to be fair, they do,) but Ereshkigal knows better. Astolfo cannot see someone and not help them. They’re very similar to the Master, in that way. A complete disregard for their own safety in the face of a troubled face.

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Ah, almost forgot myself here. Sorry!”

they’re so considerate.

Ereshkigal isn’t… good, with touch. She’s working on it! But the sheer warmth- the pressure- the knowledge that someone is touching her, the queen of Kur, mistress of the dead, willingly touching her-

it’s. A Lot.

Astolfo is nothing but touch. Always hugging others, always patting a shoulder, holding a hand, elbowing rips. That’s their default way of showing affection.

And you’d think it’d be a problem, you’d think there’d be friction, but-

Astolfo… doesn’t touch Ereshkigal.

Oh, they want to, that much is obvious. Often, they reach out for her. Often, they raise their hands, to pat or hold or pet.

But they always stop themself, inches away from her skin.

She knows it has to be really counterintuitive to them. And she knows it must be hard for them to remember not to touch her everytime. (It’s hard for Astolfo to remember a lot of things.) Yet they try. Yet they do. For her. For her comfort. And when they forget, they apologize, always, always.

It’s been a couple months, and Ereshkigal has now worked her way to simple touches. Yet Astolfo rarely ever initiates. They wait for her to touch them, and even then, she can see how much they scrutinize her when they reciprocate, ready to back down at the first hint of discomfort.

For her. All of this, they do it for her.

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Huh. I don’t really get it, but you’re welcome!”

they’re not scared.

Of anything, in general. But most importantly, of her. Ereshkigal, goddess of death. Ereshkigal, chaotic evil. Ereshkigal, ruler of mesopotamian Hell.

They’ve never even flinched. From the first day they’ve seen her.

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“You… remembered what I said? You actually listen when I talk?”

they’re so, so deeply lonely.

Well. No. Lonely isn’t the right word. Astolfo has quite a lot of friends. They’re a social butterfly, always jumping from newcomer to veteran servant, chatting up even the Chaldea staff.

But there’s… something, like a gap, between Astolfo and others. It’s in the way they laugh Astolfo off as a naive idiot. It’s in the way they get frustrated when Astolfo forgets things.

And it makes Ereshkigal angry, so angry, that righteous fury that make gods tremble.

Because they don’t get it. Because they don’t try to get it. Because sometimes Astolfo talks about one thing or another, and pauses, and then apologizes, as if their thoughts were a bother, as if they were a bother. Because whenever she mentions something Astolfo talked about in the past, they get surprised- always, always, without fail.

Because Astolfo is so good, so kind, a ray of sunshine barely dressed in flesh. Because Astolfo deserves so many things, because Astolfo is so important, and they’re convinced that they’re nothing but a side character.

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Hey, check out that new card game Nobu gave me! Wanna play?”

(Fingers trembling over the door frame. Stiff shoulders. Forced smile. It’s subtle, but it’s there. It’s subtle, but something’s wrong.)

they trust her.

She hadn’t known what to do, that night. Something had clearly been… off, about Astolfo. But she’s never been the social one; they were. The best she could do- the best she did- was humor them. Play, and talk, and fill in the silences. (Sometimes, she hears people joke about wishing Astolfo would speak a little less. She wonders if they know. How downright disturbing it is to witness Astolfo being quiet.)

Her bed is small, and touch is difficult, but she’d tried really, really hard, and their back had been burning hot and impossibly broad against her own, but for them she’d endured it. She’d wished she could have hugged them, back then.

Astolfo hadn’t complained. As she’d drifted off to sleep, she swears she’s heard the softest “thank you.”

The next day, they’d been back to normal.

(She’d checked the calendar, afterwards. That night had been a new moon.)

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Hey, look! I made you a plushie of Hippo-kun!”

“This nail polish looks SO good on you. Give me your other hand!”

“Hey! I found these flowers earlier, and I thought of you!”

they’re her friend. They’re her dear, important friend.

And Ereshkigal is in love with them.

(In her opinion, they’re an easy person to fall in love with.)

Because the thing about Astolfo is-

“Oh, hey! Great timing!”

that they’re standing right in front of her door.

“Here, take this!” They hand her something. “And I’m off. Have a nice day!”

A small envelope. It contains, Ereshkigal is sure, a white paper folded in half, filled with messy handwriting.

She can feel her face heating up.

“W-wait! You don’t get to just leave!”

“Huh? Why? Do you need me for something?” They tilt their head. Genuinely confused.

“This is a love letter!”

“Indeed it is!” They nod, pleased with themself. “I worked hard on these, I hope it shows.”

“... But why?”

And now they’re back to confused. “... Because I’m trying to court you? I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“...” Ereshkigal stands here. Dumbstruck. Because they just said it. Because Ereshkigal never, in a million years, thought this’d be a possibility. That anyone- yet alone the person she herself fancies- might actually reciprocate. Because they make it sound so simple. Because they make it sound so obvious.

“I… the letters weren’t signed.” She says stupidly.

“...” Astolfo blinks. “Oh. It genuinely didn’t occur to me to.” They chuckle sheepishly. “My bad.”

My bad.

And it’s such an Astolfo thing to say, Ereshkigal can’t help but laugh, too.

“I should have known it was you.” (Couldn’t believe it could be them)”... Do you mean them? The things you wrote?”

There are a few seconds of silence. Astolfo looks at her, as if wondering how to best answer, and she can feel dread starting to gather in her throat and-

Astolfo suddenly gets on one knee, like a knight.

“Ereshkigal.” They sound solemn all the sudden, with that tone they use when they’re trying really hard to focus. They raise a hand, and, gently, seize just the tip of her fingers, and they’re so warm, warm, warm, “You’re one of the gentlest souls I’ve ever known. You’re pretty, and strong, and kind, and.”

A pause.

Then, really quietly.

“You listen. People don’t usually listen.”

(That loneliness with no name, this gap with no words.)

Slowly, so that she can pull away at any time, Astolfo raises her hand, and softly kisses the back of her fingers. For a few seconds, Ereshkigal forgets to even breathe.

“So, yes. I meant everything I wrote. And if you’ll allow me, I have plenty more praises I’d like to write about you in the future.”

They tilt her hands on the side, and their lips are on her wrist, and their eyes are on her, and there’s a look on their face, something like adoration, something like worship. A knight bowing before their queen.

Love.

“So, will you?”

“What?” Her face feels so hot there must be steam coming out of her ears.

“Allow me to write more to you?” They run a thumb over her knuckles. “I will stop, if you want me to.”

(Always. Always. If you’re comfortable. If you want me to. An inch over her skin, begging to touch her, yet stopping for her sake.)

“You could be writing to me about rocks you found on the side of the road and I’d love it.” She blurts out. And it’s true.

Astolfo laughs, with that beautiful voice of theirs that gets her head spinning everytime. (Happiness is such a good look on them.)

(They still haven’t let go of her hand.)

“See? This, right there. This is why I love you.”

#fate #fate grand order #fgo #astolfo #ereshkigal

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cherrydreamer · 3 years

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Fic writer question meme

Tagged by the always lovely @ihni (thank you! I loved reading your answers, your WIPs all sound so interesting, I can’t wait to see them bloom!)

How many works do you have on AO3?

44- although a LOT of those were mini Cocktober Prompts that I posted as separate fics rather than collecting them into one (which would’ve been a lot more sensible!)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

219065. WHOA! That is a LOT of words. I bet most of them are ‘just’ and ‘little’ and ‘uh’.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only Stranger Things (so far!)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. BBQ Wings for Satan

2. 'Cause He's In Love With The Boy On The Hawkins Family Video Checkout Desk

3. It Starts with a Scrunchie

4. Don’t Leave Me (Hanging on the Telephone) (WIP)

5. 5 Times Hop Found Billy Doing Something 'Dangerous' (and One Time He Sorta Encouraged It...)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to, although sometimes I’m not great at getting back to ones on older fics cause time passes and then I feel like I’ve left it too long. I LOVE it when people ask questions or pick out their favourite parts and I like to say thank you.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I do angsty endings, not really. Sea Turtle is probably my angstiest, with lil kid Billy crying over Lego and Neil being an ass, but it’s part of a series that will have a happy ending eventually!

Maybe Satantic Panic? Max trying a ritual to bring Billy back from the dead. It’s more of a cliffhanger ending than angsty though...

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t...yet! I have a lil Gilmore Girls one in my WIPs but it’s more like an Diner!AU with the odd cameo from some GG side characters!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Only a few little things, nothing harsh. I think it was the same person commenting on a lot of Harringrove fics at the time so I got off very lightly compared to other people.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Sometimes. I dabbled for Cocktober because, well, I HAD to try! It’s definitely not my strength.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I doubt it!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really co-writing, but I’ve done some fics based on art. Usually the art came first and inspired me, but Mono and I did a lil collab of Steve in a 90s plastic choker (and Billy being utterly turned on of course!)

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Harringrove stole my heart but it was the fandom that kept me there. Such lovely lovely people! So now the ship is all wrapped up with the friendships I’ve made here!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The aforementioned Gilmore Girls AU with asshole prep school Steve. I have so much of it written, I just don’t know if it’ll ever see the light.

What are your writing strengths?

Fluff? Maybe? I like thinking up the softest situations and throwing Steve and Billy right into them so they can get some love and comfort and happiness!

What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh god there is still so much I’m working on! I struggle with descriptions, I tend to give the vaguest idea of a location, and maybe some items there, but that’s it. I definitely compare myself to other writers and their gorgeous scene setting and find my own lacking, but it also gives me a push to keep on experimenting and seeing what works for me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I haven’t done it, I don’t think. The only other language I have much experience with is German (and a few words of Welsh!) so it’s never come up.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Writing and posting was Harringrove (cause everyone was so nice I actually felt confident to do it!)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I quite like Bring This Ship Into the Shore because it’s just me stuffing a fic with my favourite tropes and hamming them up! 80s music, mix tapes, hospital recovery, protective Steve etc. etc.

And it’s not exactly written yet (well it IS, mostly, but it’s not posted!), but I have such a soft spot for Don’t Leave Me (Hanging on the Telephone) already. I keep thinking up new little bits for it when I’m in the shower or out on a walk, and it’s already grown so much!)

Tagging

oOOooh there are SO many amazing writers I would love to know more about @passivenovember @lazybakerart @flippyspoon @heck-in-a-handbasket @adecentsizedcabbage @smashmouth-hargrove (no pressure of course!!)

#tag game #writer stuff

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

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ok time to break my silence caused by the fact that i spent all day making this lol too many feels

so.. palm springs thoughts !! and there are manyyyy so buckle up and feeel free to hit me up with either matching or contradicting thoughts or whateveer!! i would LOVE to nerd out about this movie with someone:’)

here comes thoughts and pictures!!

we basically start off with a mr. samberg sex-scene okAYYYYY the mood is set. we love the view

nyles aka. mr. samberg is the most gorgeous man alive and it was a true pleasure to admire him for 90 minutes straight

CURLS!!????! THEY ARE UNREAL. i shall dedicate an entire post to them

Cristin Milioti is perfect for her role. her acting? *chef’s kiss* I love that she’s not the stereotypical female rom-com lead.

Her chemistry with Andy? Gosh.. Can’t believe Nyles x Sarah is my new main movie-ship!! They play off of each other SO. WELL. Their characters are equally stone cold and bitter, but then again not really, and they both portray it so well!!

“You don’t ned a leg up.” *moans* “Hold my leg up!” i SCREAMED

“Don’t you kiss me.” “Don’t you tell me what to do.” hoW DARE THEY!

Ok ur basically on love already stop it

The fact that they were just gonna fuck on a blanket on top OF ROCKS?!

but then again in this movie’s already insane universe it’s prob pretty normal:)

The overall dark, existential humor?? This is what I live and breathe for on a daily basis. Basiaclly both main characters are a BIG MOOD

Nyles not giving a shit vs. Sarah severely freaking out in the beginning is an iconic dynamic

“I am the antichrist” and then the rock falling? For a hot sec I literally thought the movie was gonna take a turn with Nyles being some magical/scientific creature that’d created the timeloop or something idkkk ahhha

Nyles in the suit... ridiculous(ly hot)

The torture methods Roy uses on Nyles and the fact that he’s not mentally scarred?? How??

On that note I love that Nyles and Sarah keep their memories even if the day starts over. Would’ve been a completely different concept if they had to “meet each other for the first time” every day and it wouldn’t’ve allowed their relationship arc to evolve as it did

Darla is the fucking shit

Nyles in the baseball cap, amirite?

THE BARTENDER TALKING ABOUT HITTING A GUY WITH THE CAR SHE’S CURRENTLY GIVING NYLES A HANDJOB IN IS COMEDIC GOLD

“You fucked Jerry Schlieffen?” “Well he fucked me.” Yes SIR. Andy Samberg’s characters are all bottoms and we’re here for it

Sarah’s tongue click and “nice try” when Nyles asks her about her sex life??

IDK WHY BUT SO GOD

Randy is hella annoying. That’s it. That’s the tweet.

THIS ENTIRE SCENE:

the fact that they both start waking up smiling because now at least they have each other 🥺😭🤯

uhm i love a good ship that’s like... best friends to lovers and the montage of them basically becoming besties killed me

this outfit Y E S:

sarah falling off the car and nyles laughing it off is relationship goals

the crashing plane I LOL’ED

okay so... big moment... the DANCING AND MATCHING OUTFITS? THEY ARE MY DREAM TEAM. Also how excited they are running away from the bar 🥺

IM POSITIVE THIS IS THE MOMENT NYLES KNOWS! LIKE HE DOESN’T ADMIT IT TO HIMSELF COMPLETELY BUT HE KNOWS

the bomb in the cake and french pirate-skit? so fucking random but i lovee it because it’s so them

*DRUM ROLL* PERHAPS MY FAVORITE MOMENT IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE:

STORYLINE WISE AND VISUALLY A++++

the deep talks by the fire were SO well written. they were actually deep and genuine, allowing the characters to grow and opening up to us as viewers but also remained fun and witty

sarah trying to get nyles to admit he cares for her and him joking it off??? the flirtinggg

really wish we’d gotten to know more about what nyles meant with “it drifts away: just like they all do.” because it really seemed to trigger something within him. Like WHO “They”???

the dinosaurs lmao no comment but at least they got a cute cuddly moment

from the very first millisecond inside the tent you can CLEARLY tell Sarah is just dying to do something about them!!!

the disbelief on nyles’ face when sarah says “lets just get it over with” because she’d clearly stated he didn’t want to and even though he obviously did he’s respected it and not done anything further about it oh babey

we love some good making out:’)))

NYLES HALTING TO TAKE IN THE MOMENT EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM INTO THE VOID

i will die for a post-sexy timez cuddle and how sarah is trying to staying awake to be besides him is just *explosion*

this has to be *the moment* she realises

and they’re both sooooo fucking happy when they wake up after damn love me like that pls

THE GROOM BOOO FUCK OFF CAN’T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO REMEMBER HIS NAME CHEATING SCUM

THIS FACE:

Baby is trying so hard and is so cute and nervous about it. SARAH LISTEN TO HIM HE LOVES YOU.

HE FELT GOOD WAKING UP BECAUSE OF YOUUUU, GIRL. DO NOT CALL IT “FUN”, SARAH

“Going to bed maybe just got a little better” 😭😭😭😭

The entire cop scene is just pure insanity, very Lonely Island and I’m here for it even though I just want Sarah to rEALLY LISTEN TO WHAT NYLES IS TRYING TO SAY

“Pain is real” oh babey that means SO MANY THINGS 🥺💔

“I followed you into that cave because I liked you!” like jake would say: don’t love how we got here but we’re going where i want

“pretentious sad boy” me

not shocked that they’ve hooked up before because c h e m i s t r y but don’t like how it got out :)))

why is nyles’ one sleeve shirt rolled up? im triggered

drinking pure vodka? oh babey its gonna be okay

WE LOVE A SMART BOI WHO RECOGNIZES HIS GIRL’S PERFUME

Sarah’s parents singing:)) i would cry too, nyles

"I love her.” “I see... That’s interesting” lmao savage

I actually really love Roy’s character. It turns out to be very humble actually and he has some insightful and lowkey poetic that lines i love. Besides that he’s hilarious.

SO the whole time i was wondering how they’d get out of the whole “same day forever”-thing, if they were to. and I LOVE LOVE LOVE that they had such a logical way out of it: science. Not anything cheesy like “a true love’s kiss” or “you learned your lesson”. Pure logic and Sarah’s hard work to get there. Huge fan of this.

I will never get over how good Nyles looks waking up and Sarah is xtra pretty in that scene:’)

Nyles just wants to stay in a loop forever because it means for sure that he gets to stay with Sarah forever and I’m lowkey into it but also like lowkey LISTEN TO HER AND GO WITH HER PLAN, NYLES

“I wanna stay with you” *sniffles*

“I love you. How about that?” PRETTY FUCKING GOOD

I love Nyles’ character development. He started off so nonchalant and cold, closed off and by this point he’s the softest, smiliest in love fool I’ve ever seen and Andy does it so good. SAMBERG HEART EYES!!

“Nothing is real in here” YES SARAH UR LOVE IS

I’m taking Sarah’s asking Nyles to believe in her and leave with her as her first “I love you” because it’s very clear that she wants to leave with him rather than without.

just- this entire scene i ugh <3 <3 <3 <3

BREAKING. UP. WITH. MISTY ! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

glass of wine filled to the brim? sarah’s my type of gal

the speech was really beautiful and sweet without being too cheesy and kudos to cristin for really delivering it like a pro! especially her “abe, don’t fuck this up” like yes girl kill him, chop him to pieces with your eyes!!! also camila is such really pretty bride

nyles looks like a cockatoo here :

nyles taking the shot and smashing the glass into the ground got me 🤭😵😏🥵

“I’m your son” I SCREAM

GIVE THE MAN A WHITE HORSE DAMNIT

Gotta admit Sarah looks like a bomb (lol nu pun intended) ass super hero in her bridesmaid dress and C4-gettup

The sentence ending up being total grammatical gibberish but Nyles trying so. damn. hard is the sweetest thing ever and should and will go down in rom-com history. It’s super romantic but also well-balanced by humor and I just.. so good. This is the kind of characters and relationships I love and wanna write myself

“you’re my favorite person that i’ve ever met” 🥺🥺🥺

“i’d rather die with you than live in this world without you” WHY AM I SO SINGLE SOMEONE LOVEE ME LIKE THIS

okay so idk but “what if we get sick of each other?” “we’re already sick of each other. it’s the best.” is so so so soft, the way nyles says it like it doesn’t matter and is honestly another key moment for me: they’ve experienced basically everything imaginable during their time in the box/loop. they’ve liked, disliked, loved, hated each other and still: he loves her. the fact that nyles knows no matter what happens it won’t stop that because it’s them?? ouch my heart.

this chaotic mess of a pairing?MESSY BOMB BRIDESMAID AND CURLY-HAIR HAWAII SHIRT-BOI!! MY OTp

Them dissing Nyles’ mom on their way into potential death? that’s love, baby

the fUCKING KISSSSSSS MANNNNNNNNNN!!!! SO ICONIC AND THE EXPLOSION IN THE BACKGROUND AND JUST WE DESERVE THIS THEY DESERVE THIS EVERYONE DESERVES THISSSS!!!

NEVER OVEER THIS EVER FOREVER NEVER

Ok so I was SURE that when it faded to black that it was done and I grew super ficking frustrated because it would leave us with this “the ending is up to whatever you chose”-kinda thing kinda a la Celeste and Jesse where it just feels unresolved and I WASN’T OKAY WITH THAT. So I’m so happy we got to know that it worked and the bebes will live happuilly ever after with Nyles’ shaggy dog:’)

Their hands on each other’s knee >>>>>

all in all 100000/10

#palm springs #palm springs spoilers #andy samberg #cristin milioti #camila mendes #sarah x nyles #emilie says things #sarah #nyles #the lonely island #nyrah

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lululawrence · 3 years

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Annual Writing Self Evaluation

Thank you for the tag @louandhazaf!!! I’m honestly clutching my chest that you tagged me, so thank you xxx especially since i love this little self eval that i think @juliusschmidt came up with all those years ago and we just keep perpetuating it haha

this... is going to get long, though. since it asks me to list my works published this year and that is 24. so. here goes.

1. List of works published this year:

Swerve the Handshake (Nick/Louis)

Need So Much of You (Harry/Louis for @onedirectionbigbang)

You're A (Total) Distraction (girl!direction and hybrid Harry/Louis for @wallsficfest)

Always Keep You Next To Me (Greg/Louis for @wallsficfest)

With Your Hand In Mine (Nick/Louis for @wallsficfest)

Smells Like Omega Spirit (Harry/Louis for @1daboficfest)

If Only We Wish Hard Enough (Harry/Louis for @disneydirectionfest)

Political Pizza (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Talk the Night Through (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Wrinkles (Harry/Louis for @1000feelingsfics)

Would You Be My Girlfriend? (girl!direction Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Lately You've Been On My Mind (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Don't Want It Any Other Way (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

I'm Ready for the Worst (Greg/Louis for @louisandmenfest)

Loving You's the Antidote (Nick/Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Do You Know Who You Are? (Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Don't You Call Him (What You Used To Call Me) (Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Gone Too Long (From You) (Harry/Louis co-written with @fallinglikethis for @finelineficfest)

Just Me and the Stars Can Get Lonely (Niall/Rory McIlroy for @heartbreakweatherficfest)

The Way You Bend the Rules (Niall/Rory McIlroy for @heartbreakweatherficfest)

And Then I Saw His Face (Harry/Louis for @1dtrickortreatfest)

I'mma Give You A Promotion (Nick/Louis)

What You Waiting For? (Nick/Harry for @1000feelingsfics)

(I'm Dreaming of a) One Night Inn (Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam, Niall/Shawn)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

every time i think about this question i’ve got a different answer, to be honest. i do think my I Go Down Blazing, Feeling Like I'm Going Crazy series is probably what i’m most proud of, though. as soon as i knew @runaway-train-works was going to be hosting the heartbreak weather fic fest, i knew i wanted to write dear patience, but as the idea grew and grew and more ideas solidified and i realized what the story was turning into, i realized it was so much more than i originally thought and i needed a second song to help me fully get a solid grasp on it. in the end, it was a hard duo of fics to write, mainly because i honestly don’t know much of anything about golf, i was still trying to create fully the way soulmates worked in the world, and there’s just not all that much about rory online to find, so i was winging it haha but i’m so incredibly happy with the world i made and the fics i wrote, even if i don’t know that they’ll ever get to like 200 hits or whatever hahaha i love them.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

uhhhhh you know looking at this list of fics i have, i’m actually proud of every single one for some reason and i don’t know if there’s any of them that i’d even label as “least proud”.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

i hate this question and forget that it is on this list every year lollll let me see if i can find something i really like. okay i found one, it’s from my long grouis haha and i’m apologizing now for it being so long. you can skip ahead to the next question if you like, but i’m just incredibly proud of the banter and the way i wrote this section, PLUS those damn joggers actually happened because he posted a photo of himself wearing them in the shops on instagram and that inspired this entire thing so. enjoy. (i’ve italicized it and indented it to hopefully make it easier to skip it’s so long i’m so sorry)

“It’s safe for you to come back in here,” Louis called out as he closed his computer.

“Thank goodness, I was getting so exhausted of hiding in your bedroom and snooping through all your shit,” Greg said as he walked out wearing a sheet mask and a pair of grey joggers that did nothing to hide what he was packing.

Louis smirked and wanted to say something, but Greg kept going.

“Did you know you have like five different deodorants in there?”

Louis threw his arm on the back of his couch and nodded.

“Why?” Greg asked, throwing himself down onto the couch and placing his stupidly long legs on top of Louis’. “Who legitimately needs five different deodorants? Do they have different uses or something? Some were even women’s deodorants, so I wasn’t sure if they were your sisters’ or what. Oh, and I helped myself to one of your fancy toners. It had rosewater in it or something.”

“Well, for the deodorants I just like trying different scents and I switch them up based on my mood. And actually, the one I use most often is a women’s deodorant. It works great. Plus I smell fresh and clean like baby powder all day.” Louis shrugged. “And that wasn’t my toner. Dunno who left it. Just showed up one day and no one says it’s theirs, so I kept it. It’s quite nice, isn’t it? Lotts said it’s supposed to help even out the PH balance of my skin or some shit, but I’ll be fucked if I know what that actually means.”

“Oh, that does sound fancy,” Greg agreed, checking the time on his phone. “I’ve got five more minutes on this mask, don’t let me forget. Don’t want to leave it on so long it burns my skin off or summat.”

“Sure,” Louis said, laughing. “So are you actually wearing anything under these or are you just that excited to see me?”

“Eh?” Greg asked before looking down at his crotch. Of course, now he was sitting down it didn’t show anything. “What are you on about?”

“Stand back up and look in a mirror, mate,” Louis said, laughing. “You’re dick was trying to tell me hello a minute ago.”

“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Greg muttered as he shifted so he could stand back up again. He walked into Louis’ bedroom, and Louis could hear when he’d seen himself. “Oh my God, that’s obscene! Does it always look like that when I wear these?”

Louis laughed and walked into his bedroom to see Greg’s eyes wide as he shifted himself around and walked a bit, appalled that no matter what he did, nothing seemed to make it any less there.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never seen you in those. You usually nick a pair of mine,” Louis reminded him. “Do you wear them without pants often?”

“I never wear pants with these,” Greg said, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, I’ve likely given that nan that lives below me too many looks at my cock without even realising it. They’re my softest, most favorite pair of joggers! I wear them to the shops when I’m too knackered to get fully dressed!”

As Greg continued to narrate the various escapades he’d had over the years in the joggers without even realising what he’d been doing, Louis settled onto his bed, propping himself up on his elbow so he could still watch Greg as he motioned about in distress.

When it was clear Greg wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon, Louis pulled out his phone and started filming. There was no one he could share this with, but it would be good for a laugh later on.

“Fuck, and you didn’t remind me to take off my mask!” Greg cried, rushing back into the bathroom to remove the sheet mask and do whatever else he had to do when he used them.

Greg was proper obsessed with them, said they were relaxing and kept his skin soft. Louis just liked knowing they were one of Greg’s things, like taking regular baths with a bottle of wine and perusing various adoption websites for dogs he could possibly give a good home to.

“Sorry, love,” Louis said, as Greg walked back out of the bathroom. He really was sorry, but he also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to keep taking the piss. Greg was too much fun to rile up. “Was distracted by your big dick flopping about whilst you remembered all the good times you’d had in the joggers.”

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

i’ve had a few this year that told me they don’t usually read that pairing or they don’t usually comment on fics, but for various reasons they gave the pairing a try or wanted to comment because of something specific and those were particularly lovely. that said, every comment is so so great, they really do boost me up to see them and i need to do better with getting my anxiety in hand and responding to them regularly.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

this entire damn year, man. all of the time i’d carefully carved out for myself over the past few years to write was basically blown to shit with the pandemic, which also was so exhausting it didn’t leave me with much energy to write. but i still somehow posted 24 fics?? i dunno, dude. i think writing saved me and gave me something to look forward to, tbh.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

most of my advent fic, tbh lollll a lot that was in there wasn’t really brainstormed ahead of time, it just happened, and i forgot some of the details even because i just flat out didn’t remember what i’d put in there, so i’m STILL surprised haha i love when fics happen like that

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i always think of challenges as fun and then i look back and wonder if i was insane because i thought it would be fun to try something new but it was mostly really fucking hard haha i wrote a lot of pairings and combinations of tropes this year that i never have before as well as stretching myself with writing emotions and situations i never have before, so i’m quite proud of myself for continuing to push the envelope and try new things like that.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

i mostly hope that i’ll be able to carve more time out for myself as things HOPEFULLY settle down a bit more. i might not be as impulsive when it comes to choosing things to write at that point, but we’ll see. lol

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

i... hmm. there’s a lot of people i’m thinking of right now, but it’s hard to choose just one. i think actually there were two and they were @louandhazaf and @disgruntledkittenface. i very much admire both of them for their own writing and works, but i am particularly inspired by how many pairings they write and the variety of fics they have posted. it’s definitely because of them that i’ve tried writing a lot of the pairings that i have, and that’s before you even start to look at the help they’ve given me with betaing certain fics (usually rare pairs lollll). they’re just both so supportive and open to so many things, and i am so much more open to all sorts of things because of them. i CANNOT answer this without mentioning the Write Your Way Out GC either, though. Y’all are my crew in SO many ways and you let me rely on you in every way through this past year. it really does take a village, doesn’t it?

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

lmao i’m sure. but all i’m thinking of at the moment are the tumblr posts and canon compliant shit i based the fics on, so nothing off the top of my head apparently haha

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

hell if i know. maybe just... write for yourself. i think that’s why i’m so proud of every fic i wrote this year. i really was writing for me and if others like it too? bonus.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

my big bang!!! that’s the big one. i’m so excited for it. i have a whole list of other fics, too, though. hahaha i’m also super SUPER excited for both of my omega harry fics to post hehe

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@becomeawendybird @sadaveniren @londonfoginacup

*All answers should be about works published in 2020. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want.

#mine #2020 writing meme #self eval #writing self eval #writing stuff

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captainmeowvelwrites · 3 years

Text

All You Knead Is Loave (a miraculous one-shot)

Pairing: Marinette x Adrien Genre: Romance Rating: K+ Words: 2805 Summary: With her clumsiness in full swing, Marinette trips and sends Tikki flying across the classroom. Thinking she's a doll, the ever-crafty Lila accuses Marinette of stealing her—but for a certain clued-up classmate, that just won’t do. (Adrienette reveal fic.)

ANs: Bonjour! This prompted one-shot was written for a one year anniversary event on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server! The prompt, courtesy of Squishysib on AO3, was:

Tikki is somehow revealed to the class, but the class thinks she’s a doll. This could be anything from Marinette tripping and she comes flying out of the purse, to Lila stealing her from Marinette’s bag and claims that Mari stole it from her. Either way Adrien sees Tikki and uses the braincell.

Thanks for the prompt, Sibby! Hope you all enjoy. :D

ALL YOU KNEAD IS LOAVE:

First, her pigtails took twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

Now, she found herself in the midst of another maladroit mistake.

Underestimating the height of a step.

The first step to her seat.

A seat that was conspicuously empty because she was late.

But oh, it didn't stop there.

No no no. The day was just getting started.

Because in that moment of supreme clumsiness, Tikki, who'd been snoozing in the aftermath of a late-night akuma, flew from Marinette's pink clutch.

Time slowed, and in a blur of red and black, the kwami sailed through the air.

Down, down, down.

Until she landed on the hardwood floor, near a pair of brown boots. With eras of practice under her figurative belt, Tikki went rigid in a nanosecond.

But like a fox, Lila pounced. "My doll!"

Marinette's eyes bulged as Lila swiped Tikki off the floor.

"This was a gift from Prince Ali on a trip to Achu," she cried, clutching Tikki to her chest. "I thought it fell out of my bag! I was SO heart-broken."

It was then that crafty eyes honed in on her.

"Why did you have it, Marinette?"

Gasps shook the air.

All eyes in the classroom whipped to her.

Marinette marched up to Lila's desk, her shoulders squared. "Because she's MY doll," she growled, "not yours!"

A two-second silence hung thick in the air.

Frantic chatter erupted. Her classmates spoke over each other, a flurry of questions and accusations flooding the room.

"Children! Children!" Miss Bustier cried over the commotion, holding her hands high. "Settle down, everyone. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for this."

"It's okay, everybody," Lila declared, cradling Tikki in her conniving clutches. "The last place I saw Cindy was Place des Vosges. That's right by her parents' bakery." Her lower lip quivered as she spared the still-frozen kwami a dramatic glance. "Maybe Marinette just found her and didn't know who she belonged to." She sent the fuming girl a shaky smile. "Right, Marinette?"

"No!" Marinette sliced a hand through the air. "No, that's NOT right at all! I've had her for over a year and—"

Lila gasped, pressing Tikki to her chest as if expecting Marinette to lunge. "You're not refusing to leave Cindy with her rightful owner, are you?"

"But, Lila, you're not the rightful owner."

Marinette's sights shifted left.

Because someone had shared that truth.

With startling certainty.

But that someone hadn't been her.

A wall of windows framed Adrien's body, spilling light across his golden hair like a literal halo of sunshine. The human embodiment of an angel, watching over her clumsy self. He stared down Lila, his jaw tight and his eyes ablaze. It was an expression she was well-acquainted with, though she'd only ever seen it in another pair of eyes, on another face, from another boy.

"Her name is Tikki and she belongs with Marinette."

Every cell in her body screeched to a halt.

"I know this because she's one half of a pair—"

He wasn't another boy!

"—and I just so happen to own the other doll."

Adrien reached beneath his white overshirt, revealing a black doll with green eyes and a wiry tail. Only, it wasn't a doll at all. It was an unmoving Plagg, right there in Adrien's palm.

In Chat Noir's palm.

Her Kitty.

Her Adrien.

The same person.

Currently sending her his softest smile, eyes creased and imploring and utterly heart-melting.

"Right, Marinette?"

Reality struck with the subtlety of a spaceship. She shook her head with whiplash-inducing suddenness. Or did she already have whiplash?

…

Chat Noir is Adrien!

…

His eyes flickered over her face and slowly, his smile sank. "Marinette?"

Wait.

She'd shaken her head.

That meant she disagreed.

But she didn't.

Because Adrien was right.

Marinette nodded like a bobblehead stuck in an earthquake, fixing her tragic faux pas.

…

Adrien is Chat Noir!

…

He stepped between her and Lila and held out an expectant hand, palm up and waiting. "Thanks, Lila," he chimed, as cool as a whole patch of cucumbers, "for returning Tikki to Marinette."

Lila's lips moved, spelling what were probably more lies. Marinette was too busy fighting the blaring MAYDAY in her brain. Adrien Agreste, her larger-than-life partner. Chat Noir, her angelic classmate and year-long crush.

And if his face showed his thoughts, each one was hidden; he stood between her and Lila, quiet as his hand inched closer to the latter. His fingers beckoned like a silent encouragement. Or a silent hurry up.

A nerve twitched in Lila's temple, and Marinette's mouth fell open as Lila reluctantly placed Tikki—poor Tikki, stuck in a pose that looked awfully uncomfortable—into Adrien's awaiting palm. His fingers curled around her kwami like she was a living thing.

Because she was.

She was and Adrien knew it.

Just like he knew she was Ladybug.

He… knew she was…

"I'm so sorry, Adrien!" Lila threw both hands to her lips. "You too, Marinette. I don't know what came over me. My rare disease must be acting up again!"

Marinette's lips parted.

Some sort of strangled sound escaped them.

She should've just kept quiet.

"It's all right." A smile lined Adrien's voice. The same voice that delivered silly puns, cheesy one-liners and words of affirmation, all behind a black, leather mask. "If you'd like a referral for a great doctor, I can ask Father for some recommendations."

"Wow!" Lila pressed her palms together, flaunting a sickeningly sweet grin. "That's so nice of you, Adrien. I might just take you up on that!"

"No problem." But as he faced Marinette, she was eighty five percent sure she glimpsed the tail end of a grimace. Then, their eyes met, and his wrinkled with a smile, glistening green like dew-dusted fields, like early spring, like Chat Noir's.

Adrien stepped closer and held out his hand, Tikki stiff in his palm.

Marinette stared. She stared at his hand. She stared at Tikki. She stared at the shine of silver around his ring finger.

Marinette "Staring" Dupain-Cheng.

That was her name now—

A cough cut through the air. It sounded suspiciously like Alya.

But something else yanked her back to reality.

A warmth around her hand.

His gloveless fingers curled around hers, placing Tikki in her trembling grasp.

Trembling because he was her partner, her kitty…

And he knew it too.

Adrien guided her hand to her chest. "She's back where she belongs." His touch was tender, so very warm, and dare she think, loving. "With you, Mariboo."

Marinette's eyes blew wide. Her face was an actual sun, her heart a pounding conga drum, and by the way her jaw slackened, words were a foreign concept.

Adrien pressed a palm to her forehead, and she went stiff as a mannequin. "Excuse me, Miss Bustier? I think Marinette's running a fever." No, but give her five seconds and good God, she might be.

"No no no!" She peeled his palm away. "I am totally—"

One wink from her kitty.

"—uhh – in need of a qualified ice pack! I mean nurse!" She offered an affirmative nod. "Yes. A qualified nurse. Who can give me an ice pack. For my forehead. Which is on fire."

Adrien turned back to the teacher. "May I please have your permission to walk her to the nurse's office?"

"You're both excused," said Miss Bustier, beaming from the front of the classroom. "Take care, Marinette."

"I'm sure he will!" Marinette lurched ramrod straight. "I mean, I'm sure I will. Take care. So much care." She showed a double thumbs up. "And so will Chadrien—dah!—Adrien. Of me. He will take so much care of me."

From the corner of her eye, a hand appeared on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Miss Bustier!"

Even through her black blazer, the heat of his hand radiated as he guided her out of the classroom and into the sunny spring air.

It wasn't until they reached a quiet corner of the courtyard that Marinette realised three things:

She'd eyeballed his hand since its arrival on her shoulder.

Two hands now held her shoulders in place of one.

Both hands were trembling.

Marinette gazed at the boy before her. His eyes – the same eyes that glowed green during late-night patrols – pored over every inch of her face.

And finally, they found her own.

Gradually, his lips parted—

"I expect one heaping pile of cheese after THAT whole charade!"

Plagg emerged between them, a crease on his forehead and his tiny arms crossed.

It was then, as Tikki flew from her palm to hover near her shoulder, that Marinette realised she'd spent that whole time laying comatose in her hand. "Plagg," her kwami growled, hands on her hips, "they were about to have a moment!"

"So whaaat?" Plagg flicked a dismissive hand, suspended mid-air as though splayed across a sunlounger. "The cat's outta the bag! They have all the time in the WORLD to have more moments." He flipped upside down. "Besides, being a doll really worked up my appeti—"

Tikki fired him one of the fiercest glares Marinette had ever seen. And not just from her kwami.

Plagg righted himself, ears flattening. "Err – What I meant to say is that YOU must be starving, Sugar Cube." She shoved her nose to the cloudless sky with a little harumph, so he zoomed to her side. "You stayed still for SO long. It was very impurressive!"

Marinette pursed her lips. Apparently, Plagg cat punned too. "I'm so sorry for this whole mess, Tikki." Her kwami's face brightened as she held up a pink macaron. "Tomorrow, I'll be sure to bake you a whole batch of these little guys!"

Meanwhile, Adrien tossed a wedge of camembert in the air. "And I'll be sure to order an entire box of Pont l'Eveque," he promised, as Plagg downed the wedge in one gulp. "Just for you, buddy."

Plagg rubbed his belly and burped. "It's a start, I suppose."

"So," Adrien said, sights settling on her, "now I know you're a baker's daughter." His eyes gleamed. "I'd batter get a batch of puns in the oven, huh?"

Yup. That was her silly kitty, all right.

A giggle escaped her. "As long as your puns aren't stale," she countered, complete with a cheeky grin.

With gentle fingers and a gentler smile, he looped a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only the freshest for you, Mariboo."

Heat flamed up her face as she gawped at him, speechless.

Was he—

Was she—

Were they flirting?

Adrien bolted upright. "S-Sorry!" He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Old habits pie hard, I guess."

Marinette blinked at him.

Once.

Twice.

Finally, she made words happen.

"N-N-No!"

Kind of.

With a clear of her throat, Marinette tried again. "No, it's okay, Adrien." She reached for his hands, hearing his soft gasp as her skin brushed his. "I loave your puns."

His lips quirked up.

"You wouldn't be you without them." She threaded their fingers, free of leather and latex. He was so, so warm. "And thank you, Kitty," she breathed, giving his hands the lightest squeeze, "for all your help back there."

"Of course, M'Lady." Her heart fluttered, first at the title, then at the way he squeezed her hands right back. "You and me against the world, right?"

"Always."

A soft smile painted his lips.

It was so Adrien.

So Chat Noir.

So him—

"Y'know," he whispered, his voice feather light, "I could glaze into your eyes all day."

The sentiment of those words shone true in his own and before she knew it, Marinette was bringing her lips up to his. It was a light kiss. A quick kiss. Too sudden to let herself tremble. Too sudden to let him return it. Even as she pulled back, the warmth of his lips lingered on hers like an irrefutable fact.

She'd just kissed Adrien Agreste.

His mouth popped open, closed, open again.

Apparently, her kiss had turned him into a goldfish.

Oh God.

No no no no no.

Nerves exploded in her chest.

Had she misread his cute comment?

Marinette leapt back. "Sorry! Sorry! I am SO sorry!" She clutched her scalp in both hands and started to pace. "I – I thought— I mean, you were just so sweet and I—"

Adrien sprung forward to grip her elbow. "Date!" He slapped that same hand to his chest, panic flashing in his eyes. "I mean, would you like to date me?" One shake of his head. "No. Uh. Go on a date with me?" He kneaded his temples. "Which might lead to dating. If you'd like. But if not, that's fine too. There's still that boy and you—"

Marinette cut him off with a laugh of relief. “Silly cat.” She re-tangled her fingers with his, peering up at him through full lashes. “You ARE the boy”—oh, the irony—"and you always HAVE been.”

Adrien gaped, once again embracing his inner-fish. “I… I am?”

Chewing her lip, she nodded—slowly but surely.

In the moments that followed, his look of sheer shock transformed into unbridled joy. He leaned in close, their hands weaved together, and oh, she could definitely get used to this. "So, Marinette, what would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?"

"I'd say that sounds purrfect."

Just like the sunshine smile that brightened his face in that moment.

She might've booped his adorable nose, had his hands not been so warm, so soft, so perfect in hers. Instead, she traced a thumb up the side of his hand, and her heart thrummed as he did it right back.

"Marinette?" Adrien's gaze flicked from her to his feet and back again. "Now that we're on the same page"—the tips of his ears flushed pink—"I'd loave to kiss you again… if you have dough complaints—"

Marinette moved onto her tiptoes and answered with her lips on his.

And this time, he kissed back. Lightly. Nervously. Perfectly imperfect.

One brush of his lips. Their noses bumped. They shared an awkward laugh and an angle readjustment; then, their lips reunited like two pieces of a puzzle, melding as wonderfully as his hands in hers.

Those same hands left her own, and her lips stilled on his. Until his arms stuttered around her. Inched her closer. Hesitated. She slid her hands through his golden locks, softer than mulberry silk. Her pulse fluttered as he melted against her, the delicious aroma of cologne filling her senses. Sweet. Spicy. Dizzying.

Like a budding artist to white canvas, each brush of their lips came more surely than the last—

A whiny groan had them springing apart. "Humans show affection in the most DISGUSTING of ways," Plagg droned, sticking out his pink tongue.

Marinette assumed the shade and heat of a chili. She jerked to throw her hands over her eyes, but as she glimpsed Adrien's endearing expression, they stopped just shy of her face. He'd revealed the most adorable of pouts and dawww, her poor heart was about ready to burst.

"Pla-Plagg," Adrien sputtered, and she imagined his tail going straight as a sabre. "That – That was our"—he hesitated, counting on his fingers—"fourth kiss you just interrupted!"

Plagg snorted. "Yeah, and I'm sure there'll be plenty more where THAT came from."

Tikki shot Plagg a scowl.

He whipped behind Adrien, peeking over his shoulder.

With a heart-stuttering smile, Adrien recouped his composure like a stumbling runway model, a blunder she knew for a fact he'd never done. He ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair and God, he sure looked like her kitty now. "Guess Plagg had better get used to the kisses"—he took her hands in his, his eyes twinkling—"because yours are unfurgettable."

"Except for the first two times when they weren't—"

"Plagg!" Adrien's pout returned with a vengeance. His red-tipped ears, twice as much.

Through a giggle, Marinette squeezed his hands. "Magic notwithstanding," she said, and placed a reassuring peck on his cheeks. "And back cat ya, my kitty."

Adrien's eyes went wide as a chasm, that pawsitively adorable blush creeping down his ears to his cheeks. Soon, his face softened, and a dreamy sigh slid from his lips. "I love when mew call me that."

First, her pigtails had taken twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she'd barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

After, she'd tripped on a step and nearly lost her poor kwami to Lila.

But now, here she was, hand-in-hand with her friend, her partner, the love of her life.

And with their first date tonight, the day was just getting started.

#adrinette #adrienette #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #all you knead is loave #captain meowvel #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanworks discord server #ml reveal

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

One Helluva Car

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Minor car fetish, one paragraph of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut, a little jealous!Dean, this is crack babes’, I can’t stress this enough: car fetish Word Count: 3,500. Summary: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and then one day she sees Baby... A/N: @alexwinchester23 hit me up a THOUSAND years ago with the prompt: dean x reader where she is more “in love” with deans car and it makes him a little jelly lol. And I was like, ha ha ha sure I’ll write it. It’s been half written ever since. So, I finished it. Someone please be proud of me for finishing. (Not like that you animals.) This also fills Driving In The Impala for @spndeanbingo

It’s Monday lunchtime when you see it. Her? It looks like a her. The best cars are ‘hers’ and even from a distance, she has curves that only a good woman could possess.

You’ve had a morning of shitty, old trucks that have been run hard for too long, and new cars that you plug into the computer to diagnose, which takes all the fun out of life. It’s easy to see a mile off that she isn’t shitty or bogged down with modern tech. She’s a well looked after classic. A thing of beauty. A freaking masterpiece. She’s polished enough that the sun bounces off of her black surface like she’s made of glass.

If only your arms weren’t laden with brown paper bags of food you’d take a detour to get a closer look. You could ghost your hand over her hood and take a look at the interior. You bet it’s the softest fucking leather your ass would ever hope to feel.

You’d generally drool over her without actually drooling because God knows spit is not good for the paintwork. Unfortunately, you do have bags filled with hot, meaty subs intended to feed your workforce. And you’re wise enough to know that making a garage of hungry mechanics wait for their lunch is not a good move. It’ll only result in some sort of unnecessary disaster this afternoon that you, their boss, will have to fix or pay for. Or both.

The only thing you can do is take one last look at her, memorize that beautiful shape while you heft the bags closer to your chest and carry on walking. It’s not like you’ve never seen a good old fashion American muscle car before, you have your own ‘70 Mustang at home.

It’s just… this is a Chevvy Impala, arguably the first car to flex its muscles. You don’t see one of those every day.

Your hobby is like a much cooler version of birdwatching. You have an appreciation for cars, classics in particular. The craftsmanship, the design, and the sounds they make as they tear through the world like moving time capsules. Nothing generated by a low emission engine compares.

That’s how you spot her for the second time, on Wednesday.

Well, you hear her first.

You’re closing up for the night. Everyone goes home early on Wednesdays, the shop closes at three, except for you. There’s always paperwork that needs to be done and you hate the idea of taking it home if you can help it. Taking a car home you’re always happy to do, but paperwork? You refuse to dirty your private space like that.

It’s just before six when you’re locking the doors and thunder screams in the distance. At least you think it’s thunder, you wonder where the clouds are until it moves too fast to be a weather condition.

The closer it gets the more the sound transforms into pure, uncut horsepower. It’s the deep rumble of an engine that demands to be heard. It tears your attention to it whether you like it or not. An announcement of the coming vehicle before it arrives.

Then she glides around the corner of Maple and Third before peeling down the street past you. It’s her again, she’s still in town. You know it’s the same car, she isn’t a vehicle made for stealth and your little ol’ town isn’t exactly heaving with beauties like her.

You know she’s not a local, it must be a flying visit, you’re lucky enough to have seen her again before she left. Not just seen her though, heard her. Heard her engine and the screech of her tires on the tarmac. Experiencing her in action is breathtaking enough that you gawp at her like an idiot as she zooms away.

It’s not a fetish or anything. You don’t exactly cuddle an exhaust pipe in bed. You appreciate cars more than your job requires you to, simple. It’s a respect that was drilled into you from a young age. Your dad owns a franchise of shops across the state and never had the boy he always wanted. He didn’t mope about it, he taught you to fix an engine instead. To appreciate every individual piece like an unsolved puzzle. And because your dad is a big ol’ softie he taught you that classic cars can’t be beaten, he favors Camaros in particular. He gave you a garage to work in until you’d labored enough to earn it for keeps and manage it as your own. Your dad raised you to bleed motor oil and sweat gasoline.

Cars are your life. Ok, maybe you’re a bit of a gearhead is all. You can’t help it if that Impala is a fine wine you want to uncork.

You watch the street lights make a hazy path for her to follow, another corner and she’s gone.

At home, you curl up on your sofa and scroll through your usual sites to see how much your own Impala would cost. In good condition, you’d have to sell one of the two cars you already have but there’s this smashed up ‘68 in New Jersey that might be worth the drive for the price. It would basically be a new car by the time you rebuild it but that doesn’t matter. All you needed were the bones of the thing and you never shy away from a project that involves weeks of hunting down original parts, that’s half the fun. For tonight at least it gets bookmarked. The decision left for another day, if it still seems like a good idea in the morning then you’ll make the call.

Hell, maybe tomorrow you’ll see something else and forget all about her. Maybe.

Good looking guys come through town from time to time but Dean is a rare treat. He’s the picture next to ‘handsome’ in the dictionary. He’s got these full lips that you’ve stared at, without an ounce of shame, while he sucks on a beer bottle. A jawline covered in scruff that you’ve already imagined between your thighs. And then there are those hands of his. It could be your line of work but you always loved a man with hands like his. Broad hands and thick fingers. Mechanic hands you’d call them, you half wish they were covered in oil and grease.

He was tapping away on the bar for a while, drumming aimlessly while you drank, but now he’s toppled in your direction. He’s standing between his barstool and yours, while you're still seated, which makes you the perfect height for him to slip an arm around you. His thumb has settled in on tracing the edge of your jeans while he talks to you, tickling your back where your tank had ridden up.

Honestly? He doesn’t even need to be a good lay to be worth the trip to bed.

“I know you said you’re in town with your brother…”

He winces at the start of your sentence, “with the things I’m thinking about doing to you honey, you can’t go mentioning Sammy at the same time.”

Underneath the stained overalls, you’re still a woman and you’re not sure if there’s anyone alive who could resist Dean’s charms. When you laugh at his ridiculous propositioning, you don’t even try to fight when it tails off into a giggle.

“I was going to ask if you had your own room? Or are we going back to my place?”

You’d almost think he’d been playing it cool up until this point. Everything had been measured and smooth. But you ask him that and he finally cracks, urgency slips through that charm offensive. He tilts his head forward as his face hardens into something intense, eyes hooded under the light of the bar. His hand slides up underneath your top enough that his whole palm skates against your skin. “How about a compromise? My car, your place?”

You lean in until you’re almost touching his lips, your tongue peeks out to wet them and flicks against his, taunting. “Deal."

He doesn’t need to know that you walked here and needed a ride home anyway. That's irrelevant.

Stumbling out of the bar is messy. Not because of the alcohol, neither of you have drunk that much, it’s his hands on your waist. They’re possessive and so there.

Maybe he’s not so bad in bed. Maybe he’s actually, pretty good in…

Oh fuck. It’s her.

You’re stopped in your tracks by the sight of your very own white whale. Well, black and shiny Impala but the metaphor stands.

You stop and Dean bumps into you, not expecting it so soon. For a brief moment, you’re frozen in awe, reverence. Even in the dark, she’s perfect. Street lights bouncing off of her smooth exterior. The night is chilly and there’s a hint of condensation creeping around the edges of the windshield which only serves to make her sparkle.

“Wow, she’s-”

“Mine?” Dean finishes, a wry grin on his face and keys dangling from those fingers you’d been drooling over moments ago. Fuck him and his fingers now.

“Shit, Dean. I’ve been seeing this car all week. She’s beautiful.” You walk towards her, carefully, in case you spook her. She’s an old soul, probably jumpy. Your hand reaches out but doesn’t touch her yet because you’re being respectful.

You’d have thought Dean might have appreciated your care. Instead, he laughs and it catches you off guard. You whip your head back around to glare at him and he encourages you, “she won't bite.”

When you finally make contact she’s cool and glossy under your touch, but even so, you don’t run your hand over her like you want to. You can feel the waxed surface that you don’t want to ruin. You know how much effort goes into a good wax job like this. Instead, you trade your whole hand for your fingertips and trace her edges as if trying to remember her shape for when you rebuild your own.

“Ahem.” In the distance, Dean clears his throat. Sucks for him. You’ve got a new love interest.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, stepping up closer to you as if you didn’t hear him. He sounds needy like he wants you, but it’s edged with this vulnerable envy. You already noticed his bright green eyes in the bar, now you're wondering if there’s a different green-eyed monster at play.

He needs to understand, you saw the car first. She’s held your heart all week, Dean piqued the interest of your lady parts about half an hour ago. You might say age before beauty but this Impala has Dean beat on both fronts, older and more beautiful.

“Where’d you get these rims, if I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’re original,” you spare him a glance over your shoulder. “But I do know better.”

He looks like he’s struggling with not having your full attention, you’d almost say he’s pouting. Then he sticks out his bottom lip and he's definitely pouting. He shuffles from foot to foot and steels his jaw. It makes it even more difficult for him then when you ask questions that he wants to answer. You can see the cogs turning where he’s trying to work out if he should encourage your interest or not. As much as he wants sex, in the end, the gearhead wins out.

“Fixed her up a lot over the years, found those in a junkyard if you believe it.” He steps up next to you now with a proud smile.

“I can believe it. I’ve seen the stuff people throw away. They’re perfect. Can I?” You slide out your phone and wave it at him.

He nods, although a little dumbstruck.

You bend down and snap a picture, explaining. “I was looking at a sixty-eight to rebuild, maybe. Actually, yours gave me the idea, saw her and couldn’t get her out of my head. I have a friend who might be able to help me out with these.”

“You wanna build one?” He sounds interested but not enough to get him off track. The track being you.

“Yeah. I told you I’m a mechanic. Building these things is in my blood.”

The air is cool and you start to feel it, not having intended being outside this long. He sees you shiver and steps behind you running his hands up and down your arms. “Sixty-eight ain’t a sixty-seven though, is it?” He asks, voice dripping with cocky arrogance about his car.

Oh, fuck. He’s figured out the way to your heart. He’s got you all turned around and leaning against her. Back pressed against her metal and glass enough that you’ll be feeling her for weeks.

“No, it’s not…”

“Wanna ride my Baby?” Dean presses his lips to the corner of your mouth with the question, leaving enough space for you to let out an almost inaudible gasp.

You’d be inclined to say men name their cars the dumbest shit sometimes but ‘Baby’ fits somehow. It’s perfect. She’s Baby.

“Yeah,” you nod. Right now, it's all you’ve ever wanted.

He walks you to the passenger’s side door and opens it’s for you. It’s not even romantic, it’s a fucking turn on.

Maybe you do have a car fetish. You should probably figure that out, like, another day.

In the time it takes Dean to strut to the other side you have sunk into the leather and just as you imagined, it’s soft. Worn and loved, like everything else about this beauty. This is what’s makes her special and that’s why you would have to love your own extra hard. To make up the years of neglect.

“Ready to go?”

He’s looking at you, smirking in your peripheral, and you’re looking at his fingers on the keys. You know what’s going to happen when he turns them. You’re still not prepared.

“Let’s do it.” A grin slides onto your face.

She rumbles to life beneath you. The vibrations from her engine shudder through the seat straight to your core. From there you swear the horsepower zips to every nerve ending in your body like electricity powering a city. And the sound could strike you down. She somehow purrs and roars at the same time. Each rev is a scream but her engine sings between each turn.

“Two eighty-three?” You ask, bottom lip caught behind your teeth.

“Get out of here with that two eighty-three crap. She’s a three twenty-seven.” He snaps, but not really, pressing his foot on the gas again just to see you quiver. Another rotation of the engine, her power, rolls through you.

He pulls out onto the road, leaving the dive behind, and drifts a little as he does, the back of her floating into the road. You slide over the seat an inch and he’s half focused on you, half focused on driving, so you're not even sure if he planned it. You scoot closer to him and he weighs his arm, the one not currently steering, around your shoulders. You’re becoming increasingly aware that the car smells like him, or he smells like her. Leather, sweet and spicy, musky. It’s a complicated mix where you’re not sure whether it's more her or him. You want to wrap yourself up in it all the same but Baby can’t wrap you up, Dean can.

“Dean I… Next left… I really, really love this car.”

He licks his lips as he looks down at you, his pupils wide, probably has a clear view of your chest, “yeah? How much, sweetheart?”

“A lot.” You pant in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. “Second right, then it’s the third house on the left.”

A growl comes out of him. Determined. And you’re not so sure you care about fucking Dean anymore but each time you work him up a little higher, he revs that gorgeous engine and you get to feel that thunder. It’s the best circle jerk you could imagine, everyone is truly happy.

He pulls up in front of your house in record time because Baby is gunning 285 horsepower, so she’s not exactly going to be beat.

The problem, that you hadn’t really planned on, is arriving at your destination. As soon as he cuts the engine you puncture. Missing the everything about her straight away and wishing you’d kept driving for hours. Still, you have the scent of leather everywhere, burdening your senses with the smell of a bygone era. You hike a leg over Dean and sit in his lap. A knee either side of his thighs, denting her seats and Baby’s steering wheel holding the curve of your ass. Your hands skip Deans’ shoulders in favor of the seat behind him, the cushioned bench under the pads of your fingers, as you attach your mouth to his. Sandwiched between Baby and Dean, and you never want to leave the spot.

Your tongue curls into his mouth at the same time that he presses his fingers into your hips so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises. You’ve never worried about a tight grip on you before but he starts pulling you towards him and away from where you’re wedged on Baby. The more you lean your body into Dean, the less you feel his car.

“Baby.” You murmur into him. Dean must mistake it to be a pet name you’re borrowing, calling him, because he pulls you again. Actually you’re telling him where you want to be, to stay.

Here. With Baby.

“This is a nice neighborhood.” He hums in this tone that’s deep but it doesn’t go through you like the sound of a turbo V-8. “We should take this inside.”

He’s right. Carl from the damn neighborhood watch is probably already doing just that, watching. The pervert.

“Right, sure.” You agree despite the way your stomach drops at the thought of leaving her.

You’re all untangling limbs getting out and he kisses you once more against Baby before you allow him to drag you away. It already feels different, normal, boring.

Dean’s fine, he’s good, he’s handy. Like you’d thought he would be.

You wrap your mouth around his dick because you’ve always liked looking up through your lashes and seeing the way a guy goes breathless on your tongue. He works you open on his thick fucking fingers until the pressure in your stomach snaps with his thumb circling your clit. He pushes into you and the stretch, the burn, is perfect. Dean is better in bed than you’d expected him to be.

And yet, it’s empty. Dulled. It doesn’t scratch the itch like good sex used to. The whole experience dampened compared to what you’d felt sitting in the front seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala.

You slip on some oversized shirt from your floordrobe to walk him out when he leaves. Neither of you under any impression that he’s staying the night. He’s got this satisfied grin on his face that he hasn’t been able to wipe off since the first time he came. He stops at your doorstep, “thanks, sweetheart. This was fun.”

“Sure was,” you agree, not giving him the full story. Standing at your doorway you’re looking at Baby instead of Dean, again. “Let me know if you’re still in town tomorrow, I’d love to go for another ride.”

He nods and backs away a few steps until he’s in your line of sight along with his car, “will do, baby.”

He must think you mean sex. You wouldn't be opposed to it but you mean a drive. A real drive with wide roads, and opening the taps. You can break that to him tomorrow if he does give you that call. If he doesn't then there's only one thing you need to say before he leaves. One thing you can't let her leave without saying.

“One helluva car you got there, Dean.”

Second A/N: Look, this didn’t start out as a full on car fetish but I was writing it and SOMETIMES I HAVE NO CONTROL. Sometimes these characters they say, “fuck you!” and do what they want. I was going to write a nice little jealousy thing. Dean wants some attention. That’s all. You only have yourselves to blame readers!

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18 @erins-culinary-service

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anxious-logic · 4 years

Text

Getting to Know You

@tsshipmonth2020 (I hope it’s okay that I tag you even though September is over!!)

Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours.

Ship: Romantic Analogicality (platonic Prinxiety hijacked it)

Warnings: Don’t think there are any.

Word count: 1919 (better than 2020 amirite)

Summary: When Virgil woke up on the day of his eighteenth birthday, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t to find another person in bed with him.

(He’s very glad to realize that it’s just a dog.)

When Virgil woke up on the day of his eighteenth birthday, he (they? No, he right now) wasn’t sure what to expect.

He’d written out a detailed schedule of what his day was like – no meetups with friends, a very small birthday celebration with immediate family (that his possible soulmate could opt out of, if they wanted). If he didn’t switch with a soulmate, he’d probably text some of his friends and spend some time with them, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his soulmate by having too many social events in a body and possibly town that they weren’t familiar with.

So when he woke up on his birthday, the first thing he registered was that he wasn’t alone in bed.

He stiffened – who was in bed with him? Why? Did he switch with his soulmate? Would Virgil have to have a very uncomfortable conversation with the person next to him?

Suddenly, he felt something cold and wet bump his face. He opened his eyes to come very close to a dog’s nose. He relaxed as the weight in his bed shifted as the large brown dog excitedly licked his face, putting its front paws on top of his chest.

“Hi,” he said, an unfamiliar smile spreading across his face. “What’s your name, huh? How are you?” He was a little startled by the voice coming out of his mouth, forgetting that he wasn’t in his normal body.

He was startled by an alarm going off on his phone. It was some peppy music – something pop, maybe? Virgil wasn’t really sure. He picked up the phone to turn off the alarm, interested in learning more about his soulmate. He felt vaguely guilty about going through another person’s things without their permission, but it was a commonly known thing that once you turned eighteen you had to be ready to switch at any time; you had to accept that someone else would see into your life and essentially be you for a day. It was probably okay that he was looking at his soulmate’s lock screen.

His soulmate’s lock screen was a picture of kittens and puppies piled on top of each other, sleeping. Virgil couldn’t help the tiny smile that spread across his face when he saw the picture. It was cute – a little bit cliché, maybe, but cute.

He was startled out of his thoughts by someone knocking on the door. “Pat?” a voice asked as Virgil sat up ramrod straight, startled. “You okay? Normally you’ve fed Rosie by now.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond and paused. He wasn’t sure exactly how much this person knew about Patton, or how close they were; maybe they were a total stranger or something.

Then Virgil thought about what the other person had said. If Pat and this other person were complete strangers, the other person probably wouldn’t be commenting on Pat’s daily routine.

“Uh- this isn’t Pat,” Virgil called, hoping the sound would be heard through the door.

“What?”

There was a pause, then a high-pitched squeal.

“Oh my god, you’re his soulmate!!”

Virgil got up and self-consciously opened the door, the phone in his hand. “Yeah. Um- do you know the passcode to his phone? I want to text myself and get to know him.”

The other person was wearing a white t-shirt and red pajama shorts. They were beaming, rocking back and forth on their toes. “Give it here,” they demanded, grabbing the phone out of Virgil’s hand. They quickly tapped the screen, unlocking the phone and opening the messaging app. “Here you go,” they said, handing the phone back. Virgil took it, absently putting a hand on the door to close it. “My name’s Roman,” they said, interrupting Virgil in the middle of thinking about what his first text to his soulmate would be. “He/him pronouns. I’m Patton’s brother, and roommate.”

“Virgil, he right now, I guess his soulmate,” Virgil murmured back distractedly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I see that your attention is divided at the moment. I can take care of Rosie for now, and we can talk more later.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, looking up as he closed the door slightly. “Thanks.” It wasn’t that he didn’t like Roman; he was just very energetic and too happy for how early in the morning it was.

Virgil toyed with the phone case as he debated what to send. It was a light blue rubbery material, with little ears and paws to make it look like an owl. It matched the rest of Patton’s room – in varying shades of blue, with lots of light, fluffy pillows on the floor around the bed. There were lots of pictures around the room, and a few happy quotes taped to the walls.

He looked down to the app, tapping his phone number into the “New Message” box.

Hi Patton, this is Virgil, your soulmate.

He sent it off, then put the phone down, being careful that the screen didn’t turn off. Was that okay? What if it came off too strong? What if his soulmate hated him and didn’t want a soulmate at all and was angry that he had to be in another person’s body for a day and now Virgil was saying that he needed a soulmate and-

His panicked thoughts were cut off by the phone buzzing as a new message came in.

This is interesting, as I am not Patton and this is not my phone number. I am, however, messaging with another person named Patton, who is currently in my body.

Virgil’s breath caught as he read the message. If he was in Patton’s body… and Patton was in another person’s body… and this other person was in his body…

It must be a three-way soulbond. That was the only explanation.

Okay.

We must be in a three-way bond. Can you put us all in a group chat so we can all get to know each other maybe? No pressure or anything but I think it might be nice?

Hopefully that wasn’t too overbearing or demanding. He absentmindedly bit his thumb, noting on some level that Patton was wearing nail polish. He tried his hardest not to mess up the lilac color while still getting out some of his nervousness.

Of course. One moment.

Virgil took a deep breath, relaxing back into the wall as he pulled his legs up onto the bed with him. He waited for the group text to come through.

Patton, this is a group chat with Virgil, who is currently in your body.

The phone next to him dinged as the person in Virgil’s body sent a message to the chat.

Hi Virgil!! This is Patton, I use he/him pronouns!!

Virgil smiled slightly. I use he or they. He right now but that might change.

There was a brief pause, then another message came through.

My name is Logan. I am currently exploring different pronouns, but he/him is sufficient for the moment.

Virgil bit his lip, fingers quickly tapping at the keyboard. Let me know if you ever want to talk or want help with that, I’ve been there and it’s not too fun.

Thank you. I appreciate the offer.

Virgil smiled slightly as he read the next text – from Patton, this time. I’ve never been through that but I’m so proud of both of you for being yourselves and opening up!! <3

There was a short pause, then the phone vibrated again. I hope that’s okay that I sent a heart, I send them platonically to my friends all the time, but I know it’s a little different since we’re soulmates, so I can totally stop if you want!!

You’re fine, Virgil sent. It almost overlapped with Logan sending a message of affirmation as well.

<3 <3 Yay!!! <3 <3 <3 Patton sent. It made Virgil smile – Patton seemed so happy, so upbeat, a contrast to Virgil, whose emo aesthetic didn’t mesh too well with happiness, and Logan, who he didn’t know much about yet but seemed relatively no-nonsense and formal.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Roman knocking on the door. “Virgil? How are you doing?”

Virgil looked up to meet Roman’s eyes and noted the wickedly sharp eyeliner on his face. “Good. Turns out it’s a three-way bond, so another person’s in my body and Patton’s in theirs.”

Roman nodded slowly. “That sounds fun to navigate.” He hesitated. “I… actually haven’t had a soulmate switch yet. I’m almost twenty-five, so… I’m not sure if I will have a switch? Ever?”

Virgil shifted slightly awkwardly. “I’m… sorry? To hear that?” He offered. He wasn’t sure what the proper response should be in this situation – someone who was basically a stranger was telling him something intensely personal.

Roman gave him a small smile. “I’m just saying, I might not understand it, but I know Patton’s been looking forward to this since he turned eighteen. It’s been a bit since then, but he… I don’t know. He’s excited.”

Virgil ducked his head. “I… thanks. I guess. Yeah.”

Roman clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Tell you what. How about you get dressed, then we can go out and spend the day getting you caught up on Patton.”

Virgil nodded slowly. “I- I do want to keep texting them though?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t make you stop doing that.”

“Okay.”

There was a brief silence, then Virgil spoke up.

“Do you know where he keeps his things? I don’t want to see any stuff he wouldn’t want me to see- I guess?”

Roman made a silent “oh” face. “Of course,” he said. He entered the room, pulling open some of the drawers from the dresser. “Underwear in here, pants here, shirts here, socks next to the underwear, sweaters up here, and any accessories down here. If you feel like makeup or doing anything with your hair, let me know and I’ll show you where that is.” He paused for a moment. “If I may ask… what is your usual aesthetic in your own body?”

Virgil gave him a little smirk. “Emo,” he said.

Roman’s eyes went wide with amusement. “Oh, that is hilarious,” he said, laughing a little bit. “Patton is the softest, fluffiest person you will ever meet, I cannot believe he’s bonded to an emo of all things.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I kinda guessed by the room.”

“Anyway,” Roman continued, “What I was saying is that you are welcome to… get as close as you can to your… typical aesthetic, I suppose. It may be difficult, I’m not sure if Patton even owns any colors darker than red, but… it’s worth a try.”

Virgil stopped his hand from reaching out to squeeze Roman’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“I’ll leave you alone now,” Roman said.

“Thank you,” Virgil repeated, giving into his instinct to touch Patton’s brother as he grabbed his hand to pull him back. “For everything. I… really appreciate it.”

Roman grinned, squeezing his hand before releasing it. “Of course. It’s what Patton would want. And, of course, my naturally chivalrous nature also dictated that I should-“

“Oh hush,” Virgil laughed, pushing him out of the room. As he gently closed the door to Patton’s bedroom, he couldn’t help but keep smiling, a relatively new experience for him.

Roman seemed incredibly nice and supportive, especially for someone who appeared to be struggling with his soulmate status.

And his actual soulmates?

Well, they were already his whole world.

#ts virgil #ts logan #analogicality #ts fanfic #soulmate september #ts patton #ts roman #i can write sometimes

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munamania · 4 years

Text

day 1: love, actually, is all around

summary: will byers is stuck waiting for an available flight to go home on christmas eve. fortunately, he happens upon a cafe with a ridiculously cute barista. ie, a night of missing family, finding love in unlikely places, and hating asshole dads. what more could you ask for?

genre: coffee shop/college au, fluff

a/n: huge thanks to @frogfaceandzombieboy for organizing all of this, it’s been so fun and i’m excited to see how the week goes!

read it on ao3

Will kicks his feet as he trudges down a city street, bundled up in a parka and an extra long scarf that he’d attempted to knit himself years ago. His therapist at the time suggested he find a creative hobby to keep him busy during the dreary winter, and that sentiment turned into him churning out hats and scarves like nobody’s business. His mother, bless her heart, loved the matching set he made for her, even though threads poked out around her ears and the bottom of the scarf unraveled the first time she put it on. She had kissed his cheeks about a billion times and worn them every day (and year) following.

He misses her like crazy.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style; in the air there’s a feeling of Christmas.

That’s for sure. He hums to himself, breathing in the crisp winter air that bludgeons his face. He stares up at the lights decorating streetlights and telephone poles. At least the city tried to make it cozy; but he longs to be home, decking the table with his brother and blasting cheesy music with his mom in the kitchen.

All of the streets he hikes are empty. It’s weird to populate a city by yourself, to exist alone on a night where families are gathered in prayer or laughing around a table, he thinks. It really kinda sucks to be alone.

He happens upon a sweet little cafe, population zero--well, except for the cutie cleaning up the dining room. The guy seems to be about Will’s age, and tall, with soft dark curls bouncing against his forehead as he hums to an upbeat Christmas song.

Will doesn’t mean to stare, but, well--he’s distracted. He hangs back in the door, making a desperate choice between leaving the guy alone to close and trying to talk to him. Or maybe he could just get something to help his freezing fingers.

Yeah, that’s all.

“In or out, kiddo?” the guy calls out, glancing up briefly from a coffee-stained table. And, god, he has the warmest, most stupidly charming brown eyes Will has ever seen.

“I--uh,” Will steps forward and lets the door shut behind him, then follows up intelligently with, “I’m eighteen, dude. Officially not a kid.”

Cute Guy stands up and stretches his back, then leans casually against his chair. “Aw, I guess I was thrown off by your height. Sorry.”

Will’s eyes blow wide, but he winds up smiling, a stupid blush visiting his cheeks. “Wow, your customer service is great.” The guy throws such a smiley look his way that he drops his defense. “Well, listen, I don’t wanna be that guy since you’re closing. It was nice meeting you, uh--”

“Mike,” he offers. “And it’s okay, I’d appreciate the company.”

Well, isn’t that the warm and fuzzy Christmas spirit? “Cool, uh, I can just hang out in here I guess. You don’t have to make anything.”

“Nonsense! What’s your order?” Mike drags his cleaning supplies behind the counter and leans himself up against the register, elbows on the counter.

Will takes a moment to scan the vast menu. “Uhh, large peppermint mocha latte with whipped cream, please?”

“Festive.” Mike’s eyebrows do a little dance as he punches the order in, long fingers tapping along the screen. Some of his nails are painted a spotty, sparkly dark green. “1.96, please.”

As Will digs through his pockets for change, he stares up at the menu, then back at Mike. “The--isn’t it, like, almost 3--?”

“If you’re willing to claim you’re a senior citizen, I’m willing to give you a discount.”

Will laughs a bit at that, laying the cash onto Mike’s open palm. “First I’m a child, now I have AARP? Make up your mind.”

“Dunno, I guess you’re quite the conundrum,” Mike chuckles. “Could I have a name for the order?”

“There’s no one else in here?”

The corner of Mike’s lips quirk up, and it’s, like, the hottest thing Will’s seen in a while. But who’s counting. “Could I have it anyway? For the system.”

And like, yeah, maybe Will’s stomach has about a million butterflies screwing up his insides, but he manages to sorta smirk back. “Will.”

“Aha! One less mystery.” Mike hands him a receipt and snags a cup from under the counter. “So, is there a reason you’re here on Christmas Eve? No family?”

Will leans himself against the counter, facing the front window, eyes stuck on the Christmas tree in the center square of town. He smiles wistfully. “No, I have a family. But my flight was delayed. Major winter storms ahead, or something stupid like that.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m sorry to hear that.” Whirring sounds out from the espresso machine between them. Behind him, Mike is waiting while the milk is heated. “Are your folks cool?”

“It’s my mom and my brother,” Will says quietly, closing his eyes tightly to prevent any tears. Right now, they’re probably starting dinner, and even though his mother’s cooking has never been the best, it’ll be amazing, because Christmas Eve was always special for them. Always. “But, yeah, I love them. Miss them a lot.”

Will hears pouring behind him as the machine slows down. “That’s great, man. Do you know when your flight is?”

“3:30 in the morning.”

“Ah, shit, you have a while to go, huh?” Will nods quietly. “I’ll keep you great company.”

Will smiles to himself. “And how come you’re stuck here? Don’t most places close early?”

“One would think,” Mike says snarkily, but there’s a smile caught in his voice. “Nah, they wanted to stay open ‘just in case,’ and I guess I didn’t really mind the idea of being here. I’m not going home.” He clears his throat. “However, it’s been incredibly lonely, at least ‘till you showed up. So, thanks William. And order up.”

Will furrows his brow a bit, but still smiles as he slides his drink across the counter and lets the scent burrow into his nose. A sweet mint with gentle hints of chocolate. His name written with a poorly drawn Santa hat next to it. The smile turns into a full-blown grin.

“Thanks.”

“I even gave you extra cream.” Mike presses his lips together. “Whipped—whipped cream.”

“Nice one,” Will chuckles, moving to take a seat at one of the tables seated close to the counter.

Mike wrinkles his nose at him teasingly, then grabs his rag and mop. “Alright, I’ll sit with you in a minute, but I want to finish this shit up.”

Will gestures greatly with his hand. “By all means.”

As Mike speed-cleans to the best of his ability, Will takes small sips of his drink, humming softly when he tastes it for the first time. Will tucks his feet up and under his knees and scrolls on his phone until his attention is pulled in the direction of Mike, gasping, arm thrown out wildly to his side.

“Oh, my god, this is iconic.” He pulls the mop back in and tilts it up as a microphone, exaggerating the beginning, “I… don’t want a lot for Christmas,” he dips himself back, scrunching his eyes shut, “there is just one thing I need.” Will giggles as he continues, slightly off-key but endearing, loud and excited. “I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree! I just want you for my own,” he sucks in a breath dramatically, and Will may or may not have his phone tucked between his knees, recording, “more than you could ever know. Make my wish come trueee, all I want for Christmas, iiiiiiiiiiis… you!” He points the end of his ‘mic’ at Will, and Will’s cheeks are burning a cherry red, but he pulls his phone up and shakes it tauntingly. “William!” The boy snatches forward, tripping over his own feet, but Will saves it before he can do anything, shrieking with laughter. “How very un-chill of you! That was a private serenade.”

“I won’t share it, I promise,” Will says, leaning back against his chair, putting on pouty eyes to the best of his ability while he gets over his giggles (especially hard with Mike so close, trying to snatch the phone from his hands). “Aw, c’mon, Mikey. Let me have it to remember you by.”

And, to Will’s surprise, Mike pulls back, narrowing his eyes, a small smile trapped in his cheeks. “Fine, fine, but no sharing it. I’m trusting you right now. I’m serious, Will,” he says, but he’s forcing back a laugh. “Don’t you dare.”

“Promise.”

“Good.” And he meets Will’s eye with a heart-melting smile before he continues to hum along rather obnoxiously.

It’s weird to him how easily he banters with Mike, how normal it feels to show this stranger his actual self. It’s like, somehow, a secret pull in the world led him to the guy’s doorstep on Christmas Eve, the softest holiday of them all, so that he could feel at home away from home.

Or something like that.

Once the song is over, Mike pushes his way through the counter doors, and he disappears to the back for a minute with the cleaning supplies. When he comes back, he throws off his apron, and then pulls up a chair across the table from Will.

And then he’s right in front of Will, staring at him with a stupid goofy grin, messy curls falling in his eyes, and jesus, he has freckles.

Mike leans forward on his forearms, grinning wildly under the soft cafe lamplight, and fuck he’s pretty. “The video not enough? You can take a picture too, since, you know, it’ll last longer.”

Will swats at the boy’s hand, stifling an embarrassed smile. “Shut up.”

Mike beams, smiling with his eyes, and he takes a sip of his own drink. “So, William, don’t you have any friends in town? Someone more exciting than yours truly?”

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone more exciting than--” Will stops himself, because Mike looks far too entertained; his eyebrows shoot up and he rests his chin on the flat of his palm. “Uh, everyone went home.”

“Hm.” Mike is way too pleased with himself, somehow still grinning behind the drink lid. “And no special friend going home with you to meet the family?”

Will rolls his eyes. “No, um, last year I had a stupid little high school boyfriend, but he—” Will gnaws at his lip, looking away from Mike. The boy tries to catch his eye with a sympathetic look, but he can’t meet it. “He left our little Christmas party early, and well, I found out around New Years that he—well, new year, new man, I guess.”

Mike’s eyes widen. “He cheated on you?” Will nods. “Oh, I could kick his ass. That’s so shitty. And during the holidays?” He shakes his head. “Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, but it’s—it’s pretty stupid, I guess, that I haven’t dated much since. It happens to a lot of people.” Will fidgets with his fingers in his lap, linking them together and twisting and tapping.

“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Mike says firmly, finally bringing Will’s gaze up. “That’s super fucking shitty on his part. But hey, the single life can be great! Lonely, sometimes, but it’s nice to know that you can live with yourself, you know?” He chuckles shortly and looks down. “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“No, I get what you mean.” Will smiles softly. “It is good. But yeah, lonely.”

“So lonely!”

Will chuckles, and Mike joins him, and then a comfortable silence settles around them. Briefly. “I guess, I guess just—even though I’m ready to move on, it feels hopeless. I can’t seem to find love anywhere.”

“It’s not hopeless, Will!” Mike exclaims, and Will unabashedly gazes at him, smiling at him with a raised eyebrow. “Why, I think, love actually is all around.” He meets Will’s gaze, gorgeous dark eyes sparkling under the gentle lights with childlike energy. After a moment, he throws his hands up and gestures toward the window. “Like, look outside. It’s amazingly festive out there. And people all across the city aren’t even here, because they’re with their families. But it’s still beautiful! And they’re beautiful! That’s love, right?”

Will nods, shrugs. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“And losers like us find each other all the time, and then we’re not so alone on Christmas Eve. Like, the universe has to be showing us love, right?” He says it so eagerly, looks at Will so hopefully, that if he were a much bolder person, he would kiss this handsome stranger. He would grab his cheeks and kiss him hard and hold on tight.

With too dopey of a smile to control, Will says, “I guess so.”

Mike shrugs. “I know you’re on board with this now, Will, you can’t fool me with your aloofness.”

“I can certainly try.”

Mike gasps, fake offended, and then Will is giggling and Mike joins him.

“So, what about you?”

“Huh?”

Will takes a sip of his drink and cups it in his hands. “Your family? Not going home?”

“Ah,” Mike smiles painfully down at the table. “My sister won’t be home, I don’t even know what’s going on with my mom, and I’m not going home to just my dad. No can do.”

“Your mom left?”

“No, well…” he glances around thoughtfully. “She isn’t living with him now that me and Nance are gone, which is good, but I think she’s having a rough time figuring out where to go, and…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she’s safe right now, probably with my Nana, but I don’t know.”

Will’s heart hangs heavy in his chest, and he’s smacked with the realization as to why Mike was so gung-ho about the love thing. “That has to be really hard, Mike. I hope she’s okay.”

“Me too.”

“And your dad?”

Mike smiles. “An asshole.”

“Hey, mine too!”

Mike snickers into his drink. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

“Truly. Dads suck.” He chuckles under his breath. “But uh, how will you be spending Christmas?”

“Awh, are you concerned for me, William?”

Will squints. “I think that’s a generally polite question.”

“Mhm,” Mike purses his lips, “I’ll be hanging out with my roommate and some dorky Christmas movies, I think. Maybe go out and fall in love later in the day, get fucked up in the evening. Who knows?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Well, have fun.”

And for a while, it feels okay to be lonely with each other, sipping at festive drinks and giggling over stupid shared family problems, alone in their own cozy little world on Christmas Eve.

As the night winds down to a close, Will clears his throat. “Uh, hey, I have to get going. Make sure I’m at the airport on time.”

Mike glances at his watch, and Will thinks about how cute it is that he has a watch (and then how dumb that thought is) and with a quiet, “Shit,” Mike goes to turn on their ‘closed’ sign.

“Do you need a ride, or anything?” Mike seems a lot more nervous now, scratching the back of his neck and furrowing his brows at Will.

Will smiles at him teasingly. “I don’t take rides from strangers, thank you.”

“Fair enough. You’re a smart kid.”

“I’ve made it this far.”

They stand there for a moment, a bit more awkward than before, trying to anticipate each other’s next moves.

“Uh, hey,” Will says finally, digging something from his pockets. “Give me your hand.”

“In marriage?”

“Haha, nice try,” Will makes a ‘c’mere’ motion with his hands, and Mike sticks his arm out. Will scribbles his number down on his pale forearm. “Text me if you want the video.”

“Awh, that’s cute. He’s never heard of phone contacts,” Mike coos to an imaginary audience.

“Shut up,” Will grins, shoving the marker back in his pocket with a blush. “Now you won’t forget.”

“Oh, I promise, I will never forget you, Willy.”

Will wrinkles up his face and laughs. “Don’t ever call me that again.” He’s all too aware of the fact that he’s still clinging to Mike’s wrist with a few fingers, buzzing at the touch. “Bye, Mike. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Will.” Mike doesn’t move, and Will is stuck in his spot, gazing up at the boy, who smiles bashfully down at him. Then, Mike leans down into a dramatic bow and just barely ghosts his lips against Will’s knuckles. “Thanks for spending time with me, kind sir. And make sure you report me for the awful customer service.”

Will is stunned, and he wants to kiss this boy so badly.

He doesn’t.

He manages to move his jelly legs after a second, clicking his suitcase and pushing through the door, the bell sounding out through the somber restaurant. And then he’s laughing, waving goodbye, with an embarrassingly giddy, “Sure thing,” and he makes his way down the sidewalk, his face burning in the brutal breeze.

After he has boarded the plane, settled in his seat, answered his mother’s 100-plus texts about how everything is going and be safe’s and I love you’s, and queued up a movie to watch (or perhaps fall asleep to) on the way home, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Unknown: [ hey, u dont have to send me the video. But keep it to remember me ;) and lmk when u get back ]

Me: [ jan. 10th. And i hate u :p ]

Mikey: [ do u happen to be free on january 10th? Or the 11th, if that works better? I’d like to prove u wrong some more, if i may ]

Will grins down at the light of his phone, and he lets his head fall back against the seat, burying his face in his hands.

Me: [ i’ll see u on the 10th. Nerd. ]

Mikey: [ :D ]

#byelerholidaybash #frogfaceandzombieboy #byeler #byler #coffee shop au #fanfiction #fanfic #mine #stranger things #this is. incredibly cheesy i hope you guys enjoy!!#i have work tonight but i so look forward to seeing what everyone posted later #also srry if i wasn't supposed to tag you!!#idk if my tagging is working tbh lmao

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infinitestarsintheskye · 3 years

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I was tagged by the ever lovely @besidemethewholedamntime, thanks lovely! 😘

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

Just plain black. Nothing exciting unfortunately!

2. Name a food you never eat

Mushrooms, and at the moment, cheese. Damned dairy intolerance.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Both, but usually cold. My internal heating and cooling system is truly buggered, thanks to the fact that I was a premmie baby. Just one of the many fun side effects.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Fannying about after having a shower. Every single day I do this and I don’t know why.

5. What’s your favorite candy bar?

CURRENTLY, it is the Galaxy Vegan caramelised hazelnut chocolate and oh my god it’s so good. A lot of vegan chocolate is really crumbly and whilst it tastes good, the texture is just off and that kind of ruins it for me. But Galaxy have really nailed the texture, it’s just creamy and good and just tastes and feels like real chocolate and I was honestly so happy the first time I tried it.

6. Have you ever been to professional sports event?

I have! I went to a few Scottish Premier League (football) games when I was younger, with my dad, before realising that I didn’t enjoy it much. I have also been to one singular hockey match, which really tells you everything you need to know about how I found that. Honestly I don’t really go in much for sports. I enjoy watching horse riding, show jumping and the like, and figure skating, and that’s about it.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?

“WHAT ARE YOU EATING?!” To the doggo, who had just got a hold of the leftovers of my dad’s lunch.

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

Ben and Jerry’s do an ice cream that has vanilla on one side, and chocolate on the other, with a full ass BLOCK of caramel in the middle, and it is probably the unhealthiest thing I have ever consumed, but oh my god it’s so good.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

Tea! Please assume that I am always drinking tea, it is a fairly accurate assumption.

10. Do you like your wallet?

Eh. It’s okay. It’s getting a bit old but I’ve been putting off getting a new one.

11. What is the last thing you ate?

One of those tiny little packets of haribo that are STILL somehow leftover from Halloween

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

I did! I bought a new top for work, a white jumper bc white goes with everything and I’m a bit lazy.

13. What’s the last sporting event you watched?

On purpose? The 2018 Winter Olympic Ice Dance final when Virtue/Moir FINALLY WON THE GOLD!!! It was on until like 3/4am, and I had 3 back to back lectures the next day, and I was SO TIRED, but oh it was worth it!! I think the mens individual final was on the next night but I FULLY fell asleep halfway through 😬

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Sweet and salty!

15. Who is the last person you send text message to?

My sister! I was ranting about The Crown and she was just kind of listening haha

16. Ever been camping?

Twice! Both my guide troop. Once just cause, and once bc it was the Centenary of Girl Guiding in the UK and all of the troops in our county pitched up in a giant field for the weekend, which was good fun! Would I do it again? Maybe not. I’m not really that outdoorsy, but I will give anything a go once.

17. Do you take vitamins?

Nope! I probably should, but I swear every time I start taking vitamin C I get a cold. Not sure if this is just my immune system being weird or if I am actually cursed.

18. Do you regularly attend a place of workship?

Nope! I am very much agnostic. I used to live almost right across the road from a church, that was fun on a Sunday morning no need to set an alarm, and I used to walk past, I kid you not four or five on my way to work, which is a lot considering it was ALL ONE ROAD and a fairly short walk.

19. Do you have a tan?

Nope! I’m so pale I reflect the sun back.

20. Do you prefer chinese or pizza?

Pizza!!! I miss it!!! Dairy free cheese suuuuuccckkksssss

21 . Do you drink your soda through a straw?

Not really. I didn’t really before but I’m really not a fan of paper straws and them getting all soggy.

22. What color socks you usually wear?

Literally every single colour. A lot of blue and navy but I’m not kidding, it is every colour.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I can’t drive so I can’t go over the speed limit haha

24. What terrifies you?

Oh well, what a fun question. So much. Ultimately failure. Failure to do anything worthwhile in my life, failure to help people, failure in my personal life. The list goes on. And heights. I am truly truly terrified of heights.

25. Look to your left, what do you see?

The doggo!! 🐶

26. What chore do you hate the most?

Sorting through odd socks. All black socks should be burned imo.

27. What do you think when you hear Australian accent?

Neighbors. My mum loved Neighbors in its hayday, and it is always discussed when Kylie or Jason Donovan is on the telly haha.

28. Whats your favorite soda?

Good old lemonade.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit drive through?

Can’t drive so go in. My flatmate and I got really bad for ordering in McDonalds last year after it got put on Uber eats. She was a terrible influence on me I swear.

30. What’s your favorite number?

31. Who’s the last person you talked to?

My granny!

32. Favorite meal?

My mum’s leftover chicken risotto with bacony bits

33. Last song you listened to?

According to Spotify, Smoke by Gia Margaret (suprise surprise, its from the Normal People soundtrack)

34. Last book you read?

Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell. Such a beautifully written book. Very casually magical and oh so very sad.

35. Favorite day of the week?

Tuesday, but I couldn’t tell you why.

36. Can you say alphabet backwards?

Absolutely not.

37. How do you like your coffee?

I don’t like coffee. I like the smell but it is far too bitter for me and the caffeine makes me feel truly awful.

38. Favorite pair of shoes?

I have a pair of brown boots that are almost victorian in style, they lace up, and made of the softest leather and I love them to utter pieces.

39. Time you normally get up?

On a normal day, usually any time after 10am. I like my bed and I don’t go to sleep until quite late. When I’m working, it’s usually between half past 6 and 9am.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunset?

Sunset. I am very much a night owl.

41. How many blankets on your bed?

At the moment I just have my big thick duvet which keeps me very cosy and I never want to get out of my cosy bed, but I FULLY expect that to increase as it gets colder bc I am a cold creature.

42. Describe your kitchen plates

Just plain white, fairly standard.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment.

Clean???

44. Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

Oooh, I like a Bacardi and coke or a gin and lemonade (which according to my gin and tonic loving mother is a sacreligous thing to do to gin). I don’t drink a whole lot, but those are my two go tos.

45. Do you play cards?

I can play cards, but I don’t do it on the regular.

46. What color is your car?

Don’t have a car!

47. Can you change a tire?

Nope!

48. Your favorite state or province?

Don’t really have that here, so I’m gonna be a bit cheeky and say Perthshire 😉. It really is beautiful though!!

49. Favorite job you’ve had?

My current job! It’s just a clothes shop retail job, but the company is so good (which is rare for a big company), the people are so lovely, the hours can suck sometimes, but I enjoy it so much more than waitressing and bar work!

Thanks again so much for the tag! I think just about everyone has been tagged in this, so if you haven’t done this yet, consider yourself tagged now!!

#skye rambles

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sylwritesstuff · 4 years

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002 Love (1347)

Part of the Light to Dancing 100x100 List.

Rating: PG13 (language)

----

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness of withering of tarnishing.” – Anaïs Nin

Or it stayed burning and strong in somebody for six thousand bloody years. No discussion needed, thanks. It was obvious in everything he did, every miracle performed just to make him smile. He'd never betrayed Aziraphale, never personally. And his feelings were still strong, healthy, and undamaged. Bright and shiny and new.

His way of communicating his feelings had been just fine. Just fine. Why'd it all have to change now? What did Aziraphale expect from a demon? He didn't have a tender bone in him. He was tough and rough, hard as bloody nails. He'd always been that way. If the angel had other expectations, that was his fault.

"Am I merely your friend?"

"Wot."

"Well, I- I only ask because... Well... Once you go to Hell for someone, things seem... a bit... grander?"

And he'd frozen. Everything, including Aziraphale, had frozen. He hadn't even known he could do that. Seemed like a dangerous option, freezing an angel. He regretted it, though. He couldn't get that soft, sweet, worried expression out of his mind. There'd been hope in it, damn him. Damn it, not him. Never him.

He glanced up quickly, though expected no answer.

But that only proved his point! His feelings were still there. They'd always been there and would always be.

Time returned. "They could be grander."

"But are they?" Aziraphale pressed. "Am I only your friend, Crowley?"

"You're my best friend. Isn't that enough?"

No. No, no, and one big heaping order of no. It was not enough. He hadn't needed to stop time to see heartbreak in those blue eyes. He'd never get Aziraphale's heartbroken gaze out of his mind. Crowley leaned on his horn more for the annoyance than to make anyone get out of his way.

"Of c-course it's enough. It's- That's all I want. Obviously. You're a demon."

Yeah. Yeah, he was a fucking demon. Aziraphale was a holy angel. What did that matter? Had it ever mattered? Not to Crowley. Not to the wily serpent who'd tempted Eve and Adam. Who'd slithered up the wall to smirk at another annoying angel only to find someone he'd never met before. Someone precious enough to give away a flaming sword, a literal gift from God, to the humans he was supposed to be keeping inside.

He'd been having these stupid feelings ever since, always keeping a special eye on the angel. He'd always made sure to creep up on him. He'd done so much for Aziraphale.

"I suppose I should be returning to the shop then, um, friend. I'll see you soon."

"Maybe."

"Maybe. Right. Maybe. Um. Goodbye, Crowley."

"Bye."

Maybe, he'd said. Maybe! Of course they'd see each other again soon. Crowley never wanted to let him out of his sight. They'd saved the world only a few weeks ago. It was the blink of an eye for them. It didn't matter.

But it did. It did matter to one of them.

Crowley screeched to a halt. He wanted the car to be at Aziraphale's bookshop, so it was. He wanted the door to be unlocked as he approached, so it was.

"We're closed," Aziraphale called.

"Good. I'm not here to buy a book."

The angel peeked out from behind a shelf, feet several feet off the ground. The hurt went in and out of his eyes. "Crowley? What brings you here?"

"Don't you look at me like that."

Aziraphale blinked. "Like what?"

Crowley ripped off his sunglasses, pointing them accusingly. "Like that. Hurt like I've done something wrong to you. Stop it."

Aziraphale looked away from him to calmly put books on shelves and that was almost worse. "You haven't done anything. I don't know why you'd come in here so angrily, however. We weren't fighting, were we? You made your feelings very clear."

Crowley gaped at him. "Wha- Are you having a fucking laugh?"

"Oh, Crowley..."

"Don't you 'oh, Crowley' me. Get down here."

"Not if you're going to be rude."

"I can fly too, y'know."

Sighing, Aziraphale sank down. The books zipped into their respective places and his hands clasped. "I know. I would really prefer it if you didn't shout at me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"Are- are your people giving you a second chance?"

"Absolutely not. Hell isn't about second chances."

"Then why are you so upset?"

"Because you need everything spelled out for you, don't you? You only understand things if they're written down or said aloud in plain, simple words."

"That's hardly-"

"If you didn't, you'd have figured out by now that I bloody love you."

Aziraphale's lashes fluttered, his grip on his own hands tightening. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Friendsss," he hissed. "If you really think I treat my friends the way I treat you, there's something wrong with you. I'm a demon. I'm not supposed to be doing good miracles. Hamlet? Play's boring and downright depressing, but you loved it. You still go see it and you were around when it was written. I did that for you."

"You made me go to Edinburgh-"

"It was fair. You lost the coin toss. I didn't owe you a damn thing, but you looked at me with your hopeful pretty eyes and what was I supposed to do? Let the play flop? Let you be sad? You already had to ride a bleeding horse.

"Oh, oh! And oysters. I'd eaten oysters before, you ninny. I just hadn't eaten them with you and you were so- so adorable trying to tempt me. As if you needed to try. Even then you didn't need to try. You never have. I've made my feelings crystal bloody clear for six thousand years and you ask me if we're just friends. For Earth's sake, angel, you're my best friend. That means I love you. How was I s'posed to say that?"

"Well... With your words, for a start. And perhaps a bit, um, less angrily. Perhaps." Aziraphale fidgeted, staring at him. There wasn't hurt now. Crowley couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't hurt. "This whole time, you've..."

"Yes."

"But you've never said so."

"And make myself vulnerable? You never would've said it back. Things would've been awkward. You're not saying it back now."

"You haven't said it nicely, yet."

Crowley latched onto his forearms, hiking him up. "I'm not-" He was smiling. Crowley cut himself off, blinking at the smile reflected in his eyes. "You-"

"Say it again. And don't shout it at me, Crowley, please. I'm not one of your plants."

"I don't love my plants."

"Don't lie."

Crowley stared at him, watching patience and a deep fondness filling his gaze. Stupid ruddy angel. He nuzzled their brows together with a gentleness that made Aziraphale sigh happily. "I... I love you."

"I love you too, you silly thing."

Something long broken in Crowley's chest healed. "Do you?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Aziraphale laughed. "You've done so much for me, my dear, even when I don't look at you imploringly. My books survived a bombing, if you recall. I do. I'm not an idiot, I've told you, but some things do need to be said. I've never been in love before and I do enjoy words."

"I'm..." Shocked. "Better with actions."

"Yes." Aziraphale closed the distance, shocking Crowley further with a kiss that managed to be both the most electrifying and the softest he'd ever experienced. And it ended far too soon. "I'm not quite as good at those, but I hope that's alright."

"...yeah."

"Good. So. More than friends, are we?"

He was too amazed to scoff. "Yes."

"Good." Aziraphale beamed and Crowley lessened his grip to pull him into an actual embrace. Aziraphale stayed on his toes, arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Silly serpent," he teased.

Crowley tucked his chin atop the angel's head, hiding his smile. "Shut it."

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #love #002 #light to dancing #100x100 #love is hard okay #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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xoruffitup · 5 years

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Adam in Burn This (6/12)

I saw Burn This again on June 12th and HOO BOY, for this show I’ve got nothing but flail! I think I’ve already worked through most of my critical analyst urges already, so this is gonna be just pure, chaotic Adam fangirling. :’)

The man was robbed of his Tony. Pale is this character who I would absolutely hate on the page or in abstract. But then Adam, the utter jerk, barges and flails his way on stage and makes Pale so human and compelling and just absolutely riveting to watch that hating him becomes physically impossible. I mentioned before how the play functions to make the audience Anna’s proxy (down towards the end of the second section here), and never has that been truer than last night. I literally was Anna, okay. I was repelled and intimidated and scandalized by Pale’s uncontrollable, massive presence; his encroaching, searing physicality; his unpretentious, guileless anger and passions and frenetic creative energy.

One second, you’re watching this massive brickhouse tumble into crying, sniffling pieces so vulnerable and wrecked it could tear your heart out. The next he’s cracking a joke, flirting, cussing, and every single swing is so bracingly authentic that you’re literally pulled to the edge of your seat, unsure if in attraction or revulsion. Either way, you’re along for the wild ride with him every step of the way, feeling the same conflicted and unwilling compulsion towards him Anna is. Pale doesn’t just unwittingly seduce Anna; Adam absorbs every single audience member’s attention like a black hole and before you know it the audience is caring for him even before they have any hope of deciding whether they even like him. (Evidenced by the collective gasp of fear that rises from the audience when Pale, drunk, climbs outside onto a fire escape.) To call him magnetic, electric, a revelation to watch – They’re all woefully inadequate descriptions. He’s a literal inferno, blazing even when he’s silent.

So even though I have yet to reach a personal resolution on whether I accept Pale from an ethical perspective, I am nevertheless complete trash for him because Adam really leaves me no choice in the matter. Damn him. <3

Last night I sat in the upper balcony for the first time, but my friend brought binoculars we passed back and forth (lol, yes really) and I actually saw so many new, detailed nuances to Adam’s acting. I’ll go through the moments that really stood out – though it’s honestly hard to pick because he really is that Extra during the entire damn play.

Act 1

When he puts his leg up on the couch to show Anna how “fucked up” his pants are, then kind of realizes he’s standing there with his leg all weird up on the couch, asking her to look at his pants… Then just smoothly lifts his leg over the table before he lowers it, then makes the coyest face ever at her while he does this slow, deliberate twirl with the most shit-eating look on his face. The audience dies, then he cracks “I coulda been the dancer,” and the audience falls apart again.

The way you can feel his momentum and buzzing energy begin to darken, right before he breaks down completely. When he stops pacing around for the first time and his voice changes, going soft as the guilt and sorrow creeps up on him in the form of physical pain he feels driving straight through his heart. And it’s alarming, when he goes still for the first time.

I swear I’ve never seen him cry so much as last night. Once he broke down, the sniffling was constant, with these utterly, completely broken sounds mixed in whenever he tried to talk.

“Nah, this ain’t me…” “I’m trying to picture him here.”

And he keeps aggressively pushing his hair back while he’s crying, as if he can force the tears away with brute force.

OKAY so watching their first kissing scene through a pair of binoculars was like being personally undressed and ravished, holy god. A bomb could have gone off in the theater and he wouldn’t have looked away from her, he had such consuming focus. When he slides close to her, the first thing he does is slowly lift a hand to touch her hair, his eyes darting between where his fingers brush the strands and her face, gauging her reaction. And then when he leans in so slowly for the kiss, watching her first before his attention shifts to her mouth, and the kiss is slow and deep and….

Yeah I felt things.

From up in the balcony.

Adam’s kissing sex appeal is literally so flaming strong, I felt that heat from the damn balcony. I dare you to show me another man with such raw, intense sex appeal. Go on, I’ll wait. He asks her, “You okay?” when he pulls back, and she says in a sort of daze, “I’m fine.”

….Girl, I feel it too.

AHEM ANYWAY MOVING ON.

And then in the next scene, as if totally oblivious that he’s a literal tornado of sex, he just sweeps out the door with an over-the-shoulder “Alright I’m outta here” and it’s so blasé and masterfully hilarious.

Act 2 When he’s laying on the couch alone, half-asleep, and starts vaguely waving his arm in an attempt to remove invisible blankets. Then, without a single word, he reduces the entire audience to hysterics when he spends a solid two minutes pulling at the collar of his coat in a completely futile effort to take it off. That’s the level acting we’re dealing with here. He’s one-hand fighting his own coat and trying so damn hard and it’s the most entertaining thing of your entire year like WHAT EVEN.

God alsdfjsdlakjf okay when he comes out in the kimono robe and it’s open at first, for like 30 blissful seconds that massive, toned chest is out there to see above those tight black briefs and it is SO MUCH I blacked out and couldn’t even process the sight the first time I saw the play. …. Then he closes the robe, carefully ties it, fights with the sleeves because they clearly aren’t built for massive fuckin arms like his, and in an instant he’s the softest being I’ve ever seen and I’m confused as hell as to how I’m aroused and ‘omg bb’ adoring at the same time??? I think I need therapy? Or Adam needs to stop being massive and sexy but also awkward and soft at the same time, for the sake of my sanity?

I fail to imagine an image that will make my life more than giant Adam in this tiny bright purple silk kimono that barely reaches his thighs, bare foot, tying a dish towel around a pot of tea he just made like a tea cozy, then oh so carefully carrying the tea pot over to the table with his one arm still out of the sleeve and this look of intense focus on his face. I was overwhelmed and could not even begin to name the feels.

Let’s make it even WORSE shall we? When he hands Anna a cup of tea, kisses her forehead twice, says “That tea’s no good for a bad stomach. You want some milk?” then strokes her hair back, then asks “You want some eggs?”

GOD PALE GET OUT WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT

(^ We are all Anna)

The part where he sneakily picks up the phone to eavesdrop on Anna and Burton’s phone conversation, and stays completely silent for a long minute before hilariously bursting out, “YA GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY, BRUCE?!” And then AND THEN Anna angrily storms out of the bedroom and the bastard hides his face behind the empty robe sleeve and bats his eyelashes at her and bends at the knees in this cutesy little sorority girl squat and IM….?! “Real cute,” Anna says, trying real hard to be unimpressed, while the audience is in an uproar and everyone’s desperately trying to process all these newfound perplexing Adam Driver feels (WELCOME TO HELL, BITCHES. IT DOESN’T GET BETTER)

Okay okay there are SO many juicy bits during the exchange when Anna’s explaining she wants things to end between them. I was watching through the binoculars and when Anna says, “We’re apples and oranges.” He immediately gets this hella adorable smirk when he goes, “Oh yeah? Who’s the apple and who’s the orange?” Then the smirk grows when he’s all “Ever had an apple tart glazed with marmalade?” And then he’s just grinning because he’s so damn proud of how clever he is and he’s still in the FUCKIN purple kimono and he is ridiculous, I’d hate it if he didn’t own me body and soul.

Then it gets BETTER when he says, “You told me you ain’t been with no one else since you was with me a month ago. Me either. I figure one more time and we’ll have ourselves a hat trick.” And oh my GOD the shit eating grin! He looks at Larry, just grinning like a 5 year old and Larry gives him this hysterical disapproving, unamused shake of his head, but Pale just looks back at Anna full-on sunshine smiling and I’m like WHY ARE U MY PERSONAL BABY

(PS: JJ – That is what we need to see on Ben Solo’s face in TROS. You better deliver!)

He says some of my favorite dialogue here – The bit about “people walking down the street don’t mean a thing they’re doing.” He grows somber here, and this is a portion of the play’s call to its characters to strive for both emotional and artistic authenticity no matter what the price.

And then the scene gets heavy…. He stands up, disappears to get partially dressed, comes out, they start arguing, he’s still determined to make her see what’s clearly between them… And then she drops the definitive bomb over everything: “I don’t like you and I’m frightened of you.”

I watched his face through the binoculars while she delivered the blows, and it was literally like seeing a candle snuffed out. His expression melted like ice – Resolute and hard and determined one moment, and the next moment her words rush over and visibly crush him as the certainty melts from his face and leaves him empty and shell-shocked. Three seconds of silence when nothing moves but the set of his mouth and the light and strength in his face, but you’ve seen a grown man utterly crushed.

Ah, the last scene. In the first performance it was devastatingly, beautifully heartbreaking. In later performances it was humorous even while tragically inevitable. Either way, it’s brilliantly written and exquisitely acted. (Though as I’ve expressed before, I do prefer the more serious, helplessly sad versions.) I’ve never seen the two of them clutch each other as desperately and heart-rendering tenderly as they did in this performance. She fell into him on the couch, and he cradled her entire body to himself – Reaching a hand down to her thigh to pull her across his lap so his arms could engulf her entirely. They rocked together, and she clutched his arms still tighter to herself, and he kissed all over her hair while they made sounds near tears. And then Pale does break open a bit with something approaching a sob, before he curses and objects “I’m gonna cry all over your hair.”

But he only holds her tighter, as if they’ve both lost all conscious control over their bodies at this point, in the face of the all-powerful compulsion drawing them into each other’s orbits. The ending of this performance was absolutely stunning, leaving you with a myriad of unraveled emotions that are at once painfully incomplete and ill-defined, and yet just as bitingly complex and untamable as the most compelling moments of reality.

Over all, it’s nothing short of incredible to see how Adam continuously succeeds in upping his game throughout the course of the play’s run. He already brought the house down at the very first preview, and yet he manages to find new twists and interpretations to embody each and every time. What struck me this time is how boldly natural he’s become in the role – The way he leans into the accent like he’s really spent his entire damn life using the hard edges of the pronunciation like verbal brass knuckles. Adam has gotten to the point where just a single emphasized vowel sound brings the audience to hysterics:

“I heard that mollaaases you were pourin’ over maaam. Needed a shot o’ insulin.”

“Good niiiight, sleep tiiiiight.”

“Drinkin’ and thinkin’, man. Worse than drinkin’ and drivin’.”

“Fuckin’ hate Christmas. Look out… ribbons.”

“Get outta here; You’re useless!”

“Lemon will kill yaaa!”

“That was me and youuu up there.”

He has mastered how to pitch his voice for perfect, killer comedic effect. What’s more is how effortless he makes it seem; How utterly guileless. How he can swing from ugly crying to casual insensitive quip in the span of a minute, and make it just seem like the routine (if highly irregular) over-active synapses of a guy on coke. Even just his body language, the way he paces around the apartment in Act 1, completely out of sorts and out of his depth, like he’s never seen a coat rack or a stove before; A physical embodiment of his discomfiture with the emotions that don’t feel like they belong within him. His presence is imposing and even threatening, and yet his body language is alert and defensive, sometimes even self-flagellate. He embodies so many idiosyncrasies and tensions, it’s easy to see why his emotions burst from him in such tidal, chaotic floods.

I’m so thankful to have tickets to the final performance next month! I shudder to think of the feels I will drown in over how absolutely legend-level powerful Adam’s performance will be at that point. What a talent. What a man.

I’d be overjoyed to receive any and all questions/thoughts about the play! :) Thanks for reading!

#Adam Driver #Burn This #Burn This Broadway #driverdaily #Pale

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