#am i serious about this Maybe I Am maybe these are literally my favourite colours

[cl6teen]

GQ COUPLES QUIZ ⍟ CL16

a GQ interview featuring the paddock’s favourite couple

mature/crude language and jokes, fluff, sexual/suggestive innuendos but not a lot, inaccurate tellings of the 2023 season, a lot of questions/inspo taken from the actual couples quizzes on GQ’s yt (rosalia and rauw) reblogs/interactions always appreciated !!

cl6teen 2023. do not copy/repost any of my works/ideas pls!

charles: i’m camera shy so maybe you should start!

y/n: you’re literally the least camera shy person i know, charles.

he laughs and readjusts himself in the wooden chair, placing his hands on the armrests to get comfortable just before speaking.

y/n: get on with it.

charles: hello, i’m charles leclerc, a driver for the scuderia ferrari formula one team.

y/n: and i’m y/n l/n, a model and partial social media influencer.

charles: and today we are here with GQ to do the couples quiz!

you smile, holding the stack of cards in your hands up to the camera.

y/n: i’m going to be asking charles some questions about myself and our relationship, so let’s see if he’s really the paddock’s boyfriend of the season.

charles: i am.

his face is stoic when he meets your eyes, leaving your mouth to tremble in a futile attempt to bite back a giggle. his silence doesn’t last long, laughing at the sight of you doubling over in your seat.

y/n: you’re so serious!

y/n: okay! first question of the day, cha: what is my favourite colour?

charles: come on, this is easy! it’s (fav colour), you’re wearing it now

y/n: correct! you actually bought this for me at the start of the year.

cockily, his eyes pan to the camera and he quick a quick shrug as if to say, ‘no big deal about it’, but you don’t catch it.

y/n: what is my go-to karaoke song?

charles: oh, fuck.

you laugh at the way his eyes widen, mocking his words with a deep tone.

y/n: oh. charles leclerc you should know this.

charles: nono i do, i do mate! give me a moment.

the camera zooms into his face, placing calculations across the screen as he’s searches around in his head for the answer—you just went on a karaoke date some nights before; it was in there somewhere.

charles: ah! voulez-vous by ABBA.

y/n: i should dock you half a point for taking so long, but i’m feeling generous today so i won’t.

y/n: what has been my favourite grand prix of the season so far?

charles: baku, because i won no?

y/n: australia actually—lewis’ win.

he cocks his head at you with a raised brow as if to ask if you were serious, and you rush to cover your smile with the stack of quiz cards.

y/n: i’m joking, of course it was baku!

you briefly reach for his hand.

y/n: my love’s first of many wins of the season.

charles: it’s my turn for a question now, yes?

y/n: no charles, i’m asking you questions right now! you go after i’m done.

charles: then why is it called the couples quiz, GQ! should be called the y/n quiz.

y/n: do you see how whiny he is? wait your turn.

jabbing your manicured thumb towards the monegasque, you shake your head at the camera.

y/n: next question, what is my hidden talent?

charles: but it’s hidden for a reason right? we cannot say it.

you both laugh at his words.

y/n: a hidden talent that only you know of.

charles: well then i definitely can’t say it out loud, i’d get in trouble.

he smirks boyishly, leaving you to gasp and reach over to smack his shoulder.

y/n: say something else! one that can be said.

charles: ermm, you can memorize any recipe you make once.

y/n: that’s normal though.

charles: no it’s not! it’s very weird how you know the exact measurements of everything without having to check. carlos agrees too!

you shrug and give him the point.

y/n: how did we meet?

you turn to the camera and cover your lips from his view before mouthing, ‘he better know this one’.

charles: we met at the monaco grand prix after party in 2021—lewis introduced us and you were too drunk to remember my name.

charles: you didn’t think i forgot, did you?

y/n: i was hoping you forgot the drunk part.

he laughs at the small pout drawing on your face.

y/n: when and where was our first kiss?

charles: monza, 2021—i have it on this bracelet.

he holds up his wrist to show the camera. right above his forza ferrari bracelet is one that has the aforementioned date engraved on it.

y/n: isn’t he so romantic?

y/n: what’s the first thing i eat after waking up—don’t make a joke.

charles: i wasn’t going to make a joke.

dramatically, you roll your eyes at him — the smile on his face says otherwise.

charles: you have yogurt so you have something to snack on while making your actual breakfast.

charles: i’m an observant man.

y/n: my favourite thing about you. so, what have i always wanted to learn?

charles: like sports? or music?

y/n: hmm…let’s do both for two points.

charles: okay…you’ve always wanted to learn piano.

you nod your head as he counts his fingers.

y/n: correct.

charles: and…you want to learn how to play tennis

y/n: wrong! i know how to play tennis charles. i want to learn how to ski.

charles: but you never come with me on my ski trips!

y/n: you always go when i’m working babe.

he gives an apologetic look, which you return with a small smile.

y/n: this one is a bit difficult, but what is my signature scent?

charles: ah…is it one of the margiela?

y/n: i like some of the scents…but no, it is (fav perfume).

rolling his eyes, he takes your wrist to his nose to get a smell.

charles: ah! you do smell good, though.

y/n: merci, mon amour. what are the three main things that i cannot leave my house without?

charles: three things you can’t leave without?

charles: me, of course.

y/n: that’s true! but apart from you.

charles: your lipgloss, your phone, and a pair of flats. you don’t even need to tell me if i’m right, open her bag and check!

[OFF CAMERA]: he’s right.

charles: bring-bring it here!

a hand emerges past the camera to hand charles the vintage chanel bag. with a shit eating grin on his face he opens the bag towards the camera to reveal the three items listed.

charles: where are the rest of your things, my love!

he laughs at the way you snatch your bag from him.

y/n: first of all, lipgloss is meant to be retouched, and heels aren’t always comfortable.

y/n: plus, when’s i’m with him i never need anything else do i?

charles: what’s your next question?

y/n: what is my night time skin care routine?

charles: ehm…can i get the next next question?

you burst out into laughter, doubling over as you try to collect yourself.

y/n: he didn’t even try!

charles: do you know my skin care routine?

y/n: i gave you your skin care routine!

charles: it’s too complicated to remember. please, next question.

y/n: what is my—who approved these questions?

[OFF CAMERA]: our boss, please continue.

y/n: charles, what is my bra size?

charles: easy, (bra size).

silently, you stare at him in slight confusion that he paid attention to such little detail.

y/n: what is the best way to make me laugh?

charles: hearing my laugh!

y/n: that is true! specifically the one where you kind of sound like a duck.

[OFF CAMERA]: alright charles, you’ve scored eleven points.

charles: that’s a good score, no? think you can beat it?

y/n: of course!

charles inconspicuously reaches for his stack placed on the console inbetween your chairs. there’s a cute smile on his face as he shuffles through his cards.

charles: what was my first f1 win?

y/n: spa, 2019. how could i not know!

charles: that’s true! where do i want us to next travel?

y/n: you didn’t tell me this though! charles always does this thing where he surprises me with our vacation destination.

charles: ah, you’re right.

he goes to shuffle the card to the back, but you’re quick to stop him.

y/n: i can guess, but if i get it correct i get two points. is that allowed?

the both of you pause to look past the camera for a go ahead, which is given by a swift thumbs up from the crew.

y/n: i actually don’t know if you want to go here, but i do. morocco?

charles: correct.

y/n: alright guys, look out for morocco baecation photo dumps on my instagram within the next few months!

charles: next question, if i wasn’t an f1 driver, what would i be?

y/n: a tennis player? i would say a footballer but after that charity match…

charles laughs loudly at the mention of his game and the memory of his dive head first into the pitch ground.

charles: tennis player is one of them, so i’ll give the point out of the kindness of my heart.

charles: so, how many kids do i want?

y/n: you want three, but don’t mind two if i can’t handle the stress of a third child. you don’t mind the genders, but it would be nice to have a least one boy and girl in any order.

charles: you have a great memory, my love.

charles: how can you tell that i’m angry?

y/n: oh my god, it’s always written all over your face cha. you get all like this and your bros furrow so much.

you try your hand at imitating it, clenching you jaw and giving your most menacing look to the camera before showing it to charles.

charles: hey you’re pretty good at it!

y/n: i think it’s quite attractive though, i love when the cameras catch it during the grand prix.

he winks at you.

charles: what is my favourite way to spend time with you?

y/n: sex? am i allowed to say that? can you cut this part out?

charles: who has the corrupted mind now! the answer was cooking together!

you make a helpless face at your boyfriend, almost feeling embarrassed that your words are going to be stuck on youtube for all to see.

y/n: whatever.

charles: what is my favourite animal?

y/n: ah…monkeys?

charles: monkeys? monkeys!?

he leans in closer to your seat in disbelief and slight fear.

y/n: wait wait wait!

charles: i’m afraid of monkeys!

y/n: but the little baby ones are so adorable!

charles: no, absolutely not. no point for you, y/n.

he dramatically crosses his forearms to each other to make a large x at your face.

charles: what is my sign?

y/n: libra, next question.

charles: wait—i don’t even know my sign!

y/n: i was the one who told you it!! it was one of our first dates and you asked me about your birth chart!

charles raises a shocked brow towards the camera.

charles: what is my favourite colour on you?

y/n: red on race day, and then sage green or white normally.

charles: it’s lovely seeing your girlfriend in your colour, no?

charles: what is the most annoying thing that comes alongside living with you?

y/n: absolutely nothing.

charles: is that your final answer?

y/n: would it be anything else…?

you both sit and stare at one another in silence.

charles: i don’t like how majority of our bed is taken up by stuffed animals.

you groan loudly at him, reaching over to swat his thigh.

charles: ow! okay, i’ll ask you one more question for redemption. what would be my ideal retirement plan?

y/n: obviously we’ll be married and hopefully with kids. you wouldn’t mind staying in monaco but you’d also like to try living in italy—but in the countryside on a large plot of land.

charles: are you sure that’s not your retirement plan?

y/n: charles leclerc.

charles: okay okay, you’re correct!

y/n: i’m pretty sure i just moped your ass in this quiz

[OFF CAMERA]: actually y/n, you only scored nine points.

charles claps obnoxiously with a wide smile on his face, to which you flip him off and brush him aside.

charles: hah! i guess that settles it!

y/n: whatever, i have you beat in lots of other things.

charles: not this though—but i believe our time is up!

turning to face the camera, you both give a curt wave.

both: thanks for watching our GQ couples quiz!

…

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, GQ, and 890,555 others

yourinstagram what happens in morocco

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charles_leclerc stays in morocco ❤️

[clouseninjago]

Hey besties. Heresmy uh Ratings of the NINJA 🤯🤯🤯 Except i love them all

Lloyd - 8/10 HHGOOOHHJHJG my gosh i love him . He is so so silly and so so yaes. Yass. Genuinely like i would protect him with my life HES NOT MY FAVOURITE but i still love him. how can you NOT love him

Kai - 9/10 and I'm gonna be completely honest when I say that the only reason he's my third favourite ninja over cole is because he's red (my favourite colour) and he has fire powers (my favourite element) but otherwise i like the two equally. Anyway HE's SO COOL like genuinely . Funny as hell too. Not a big fan of his haircut HOWEVER i am a zane fan so i choose not to make a big deal out of that

Jay - 7/10 yeeeshhhhhh ERM i am going to preface this by saying I AM NOT A JAY HATER and i am not even a jay disliker. He is funny and he is silly and there have been many occasions upon which I have looked at him and thought 'hes just likw me fr'. HOWEVer there were certain occasions. Certain seasons even. Maybe a specific season that came after possession and before hands of time. In which he ticked me off quite a large amount that may have negatively affected my opinion. BUT I STILL LOVE HIM hes just jever been a favourite and #that season didnt do much to help

Cole - 8.5/10 like I said he's basically joint with kai apart from the fact he isn't red. But i fenuinely love so much about cole i love his design (he was basically the only ninja to have a good haircut before the redesigns icl) and i love his personality and just everything about him is Awesome. And one thing i found really interesting is when he was a ghost. And i wish that got more focus cause i would have really liked it

Zane - 13/10 HOOOOO BOY i will be brief. I could genuinely go on for days on end about how much i love zane ninjago but I Will Be Brief. Everything about his character just makes me so SO happy. His personality and his design (his haircut is cute i swear) and his story and EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM and i said that for cole as well but this is TEN TIMES MORE INTENSE every time i think about him it feels like an actual electric SHOCK through my entire body I'm so so serious. I also find him to be like INCREDIBLY relatable. There have been occasions where i literally Cried because he was Just Like Me and i couldnt TAKE it anymore. And it's not even funny and it will never even be funny and the season 3 finale left me in shambles for weeks. And to be honest i think the show needs to be nicer to him because why is he always going through something. This little guy cannot have one normal day i swear. Let zane be happy challenge imPOSSIBLE. And i know a lot of people don't like how robotic he is after season 3 and I totally get that but for me personally that doesn't really change how much i still love him as a character even if there are some changes i want to be made with his writing. Just realised i said i would be brief and then wrote a whole paragraph Um im gonna move on,

Nya 10/10 I LOVE HER!!!! Genuinely cannot think of one negative thing to say about her apart from it took the show a good few seasons to get the hang of actually writing her (as much as i adore rebooted it pisses me off how dirty they did her in that season). But she is just SO cool and i love her and i loved her in skybound and she was probably one of the only things i loved about skyboukd other than echo zane. Good lord i love nya she makes me malfunction in the brain. Whenever i drink water i think of her

n e ways thats Basically it ACTUALLY NO I WANNA DO GARMADON AS WELL LMAO

garmadon 5/10. And i dont mean that in a negative way i mean genuinely true neutral. I actually loved him in the movie he made me cry a lot but when we're talking just the actual show? Euuiwuuajajgghj. In the first couple aeasons i was really mixed on him like i think he was a really interesting character and he was silly but i had proper BEEF with him too like he made me MAD. And then seasons 3 and 4 came around and . And. Sensei Garmadon. fun fact about sensei garmadon i didnt Particularly Like him but thats ok!!!!! That is ok!!!!! I did like garmadons backstory with clouse that was very interesting i really.Really liked it. Idont know if you could tell but um tumblr user clouseninjago quite likes clouse ninjago so that made me happy tbh. Ok im actually done fr now and i would tag more people to share their opinions but i have no friends so @colesstar Hi

[moonshine999]

Similarities between Zoyalai and Helaegon

These are two of my favourite ships (as complicated as they may be) and there are various similarities that are just too apparent to ignore now so I wanted to list them here 

Note : the content is just my opinion and so are these ships, if you do not agree with them, just scroll past it and ignore it

Overall : 

 🕯️both ships are rulers of their respective kingdoms and had to go to great lengths to get there

( I understand that Rhaenyra did sit on the throne but since she was not recorded in history and Aegon was, I am just going off of that) 

🕯️dragons serve as special symbols for them 

(Zoya more so in zoyalai and it is a Targaryen custom almost) 

🕯️they often bickered or bantered a lot at the start

🕯️forced proximity 

(As his general, she would have to see him everyday and helaegon is quite literally an arranged marriage) 

🕯️the grumpy x sunshine trope

🕯️the. colour. schemes. 

Okay I will go on a bit here

I find it very interesting that gold symbolises the parts of their lives they held most dear and gave most importance to 

For Aegon, it’s his dragon - Sunfyre

They haven’t been recorded as the strongest dragon and rider bond in history for nothing 

Sunfyre was willing to kill anyone who came across his rider’s way and would not go down without a fight, even if he was on the brink of death

Aegon cherishes this so much and I think Sunfyre, not only represents his ability to bond with things and them to love him back (which he so wants from his mother and father) but also in a sense, his freedom. 

His capability to fly off anywhere with his beloved dragon never to be found. Away from duty and the burden of being king. 

But if it is for his family then he must. 

Which also can explain why the crown he dons is silver, not gold (unlike Rhaenyra’s who arguably has more freedom than him) 

While for Nikolai, almost in a stark contrast to Aegon represents his crown - his kingdom and his want for duty because he thinks that his father and brother would have sunk the ship that is Ravka down to the pits of hell. 

Obviously in the end, he is a consort but for the most part of shadow and bone and king of scars he still has this longing to do right by his people

And while these two characters are almost the same age, Aegon has to carry the entire weight of his family and kids while Nikolai isn’t even married yet and does not show any interest in it, and for family he virtually has none.

This is not to discredit anything any character had to go through but I just find it interesting how the same colour can mean such different things for these two (arguably similar) characters

Now I realise I haven’t talked about Zoya and Helaena much but they don’t have many differences to talk about really 

🕯️  their colour schemes are blue and silver 

For Helaena, both colours represent her dragon - Dreamfyre 

And for Zoya, the silver (amongst other things) represents the dragon eye she is gifted and the blue - the fact she is Grisha 

🕯️both are shown to be much capable rulers than their significant others 

Zoya does get to become one but oh.. Helaena baby.. how you were robbed

( I may make an entirely different post explaining why or maybe an AU where Helaena is Queen regent) 

🕯️both are shown to be capable political advisors and intelligent 

🕯️both were put into an unwanted marriage by their mother/ parents at a very young age 

(Zoya’s case is much more serious here as she was just 10 but the point on surface level still stands) 

🕯️both are very closed off 

In their different ways yes

While both shun people out

Zoya would rather spew insults at their face to keep them away 

While Helaena would just ignore them until they leave themselves 

Now for some similarities between Nikolai and aegon

🕯️the gold (we already discussed this but yeah) 

🕯️both feel an immense pressure to perfect 

Nikolai due to his father and brother’s lack of care for the kingdom and the massive threat that was the darkling just being defeated and him and his council being left to take care of the mess

While aegon because his mother is so perfect (or she seems to be) and he needs to be himself so he can show her he is capable and finally gain some approval but also the threat of war for the blacks as well as him trying to be more involved in his kids’ lives 

🕯️both are free souls 

But while Nikolai seems ready to take on the throne and leave sturmhond (his identity so he would never be found) behind (for now).

Aegon is far from it.

He wants to be free, sail away somewhere and never be found but he can’t.

Even if he was allowed to, he wouldn’t because he understands what is at stake. 

This can pose an interesting topic of how Nikolai is almost everything Aegon wishes to be and wishes to have.

And how Nikolai was given this opportunity to sail as he was the second son, this chance can never be given to Aegon.

🕯️male wives. 

Yeah anyway- 

Just some other differences : 

🕯️Zoya and Aegon are very driven people 

They clearly act on how they think fit for their loved ones and can get cocky at times 

They can also get explosive at times when they are threatened

🕯️Helaena and Nikolai always seem to find some sort of balance between things 

Which always confuses their partners but they do

As consorts, they are generally more free and so have more times for their hobbies and interests as well as political affairs 

🕯️Both are also very confident in their moralities and where they stand and with whom they stand 

🕯️Both are haunted or troubled by some form of demon

While Nikolai is a physical demon, I think Helaena’s would be her visions and her dreams

As she sees the dance happens before it does and does not know what to make of it 

Sure we can say that she could control it better with age but these things would have left her traumatised and as they started happening, the amount of confusion and frustration paired with b&c happening- 

Gods. 

Anyway 

If I missed anything, do let me know

I am probably looking way too much into it but oh well, what are we here for? 

[v-anrouge]

exposing myself on the internet for a character assignment go brrrrr

also: *sweats in aroace*

Okay so I possess a distinct lack of hobbies because ✨ mental illness ✨ and also I am a total hikkineet. I do however, have less active hobbies like drawing, painting, reading/writing. I do enjoy rewatching Musicals from my childhood whenever I’m feeling down or generally empty. Some faves would be “The Sound Of Music”, “Mary Poppins” and “Anastasia”. Ya boi likes singing along with em even though I am terrible at it hehe ❤️

God okay. My personality. Uhh. I have a lot of feelings (and cry a lot) and I am extremely affection starved so show me positive attention and compliment me and I am fucking worshipping the ground you walk on so.. affectionate? I guess. Also Kind of quiet. I’m in my head a lot, and I have anxiety about voicing my opinion and thoughts to people. Especially irl. I’ll usually just remain silent or provide a few comments but otherwise mainly a listener. But if it’s a special interest and I can see that you are actively listening to me instead of waiting for me to stop talking I’ll turn into a walking Encyclopedia about Said thing. I do love physical affection but only when I am in the mood for it lol.

Giving love language is acts of service and gift giving (flashbacks to the time I offered to buy you something even though we barely knew each other). Receiving love language is words of affirmation probably idk i have 3 irl Friends outside of Family so my experience on the matter is limited.

Also people who are audibly/visibly angry will set off my fight/flight/freeze response and I will physically distance myself from them due to discomfort/fear. I’d also definitely go non-verbal as a result. This would be a time where touching me could result in a panic attack/me just crying lmao

Okay bare with me here because I have never actively considered my type so I’m only really thinking about it now

Type wise, perhaps someone kind but firm, I’d say? I lack a lot of motivation, self-discipline and self-respect, so a partner who is gentle, accomodating and understanding of my situation but isn’t afraid to call bullshit when they see it would definitely be preferable. Also direct communication because I CANNOT read between the lines. And.. someone who would go places with me. Not even for like the cute coupley things like Dates and Shopping or whatever (though that would be great too) but literally as a Support Person for stressful situations like dentists, doctors and other such appointments. Lord knows I need it because I stutter so badly when talking to strangers irl and stare straight at the ground and go silent when I inevitably become embarrassed at my lack of social skills💀 I don’t really have a strong preference for any hobbies a partner might have, but it would be cool to watch musicals together. And dress up and stuff. Maybe even cosplay. Idk just Indulging in each others hobbies would be fun. Also I struggle with like, mobile(?) communication and find it difficult to take the initiative to start text convos or call people, so they’d need to take the lead on that otherwise I may accidentally end up ghosting them. Not maliciously, but as I said, ya boy is stuck in his own little world a lot.

Also my favourite colour is green! HEX Code : #9AEEC8 (this probably wasn’t necessary but teehee)

And if a partner can’t handle spice I will constantly give them shit for it but in an affectionate way ❤️

(THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO SORRY IDK HOW TO SHUT UP WHEN PPL GIVE ME ATTENTION 😭)

THIS IS PERFECT ACTUALLY U GAVE A LOT OF DETAILS VERY IMPORTANT DETAILS AND THAT MAKES RHE JOB WAY EASIER!!

I match you with...

ROOK HUNT let me start this off by saying that this can be taken in both a platonic or romantic way and that in either way u and rook are like made for eachother im serious like u two are fucking inseparable, rook absolutely adores everything about you, you two have A LOT in common and he LIVES for it, rook and you can constantly be found almost sobbing over eachother and how much you mean to eachother, you two are so close people consider u both goals (couple or friendship it's up to u). rook is absolutely sure you two are soulmates he has never felt so connected to someone like he feels connected to you

rook loves spending time with you he adores talking to you even if to other ppl it might seem like he's being ignored rook knows he isn't he knows that you are listening intently to him and he loves it, most people hate it when he starts talking to them since he talks A LOT but you? you don't mind it! you stay there and listen to him ramble and sometimes even join him! rook always feel so warm when he manages to make you feel safe enough to ramble and infodump him and he'll be very happy if you allow him to do the same in exchange you two have a lot of interests in common and love talking about them to ppl that actually care so this normally ends w u both talking for hours non-stop and not even noticing as time goes by (not u two talking about vil for 5 hours straight)

rook absolutely adores your works, wether it's a drawing, a painting or a piece u wrote he'll love to see it, he could spend hours talking about your works seriously it became one of his special interests his ur number 1 fan now he'll always hype you up and even do some of them with you (like painting and reading together etc)

rook swears he can feel his heart exploding in his heart when u give him a gift this man won't stop smiling as he goes on and on about how much he absolutely adores you and how much he loves the gift and how he's so honored and happy to receive something like that and there's literal tears on his eyes as he does so, rook feels so happy when you offer to help him too, it means he gets more time to spend with you! and rook loves spending time with you<3

if you like words of affirmation than rook is the man for you, this man constantly writes poems about you and the special connection you two share and even though he has written multiple of them somehow they never ever look the same it's always so fresh as if it was his first time writing something like that, it also never fails to make you smile rook is very observant so he'll def know what makes you smile and he WILL be making a LOT of use of his privileged knowledge

rook knows how you get when someone is mad and being loud about it so whenever rook feels an situation escalating he'll immediately take you away from it and make sure you're okay, if rook ever happens to arrive to late he'll do his best to help you calm down, rook is super patient and even if you go non-verbal rook somehow still always know what to say and what to do, if you like company in times like these rook will not leave your side, he'll constantly be making sure you're feeling alright and comfortable and paying attention to your body language if you can't speak

rook will always encourage you to try new things at the same time he'll immediately take you out of any situations that make you extremely uncomfortable, for rook it isn't easy to trust people, however he trusts you, and he wants you to trust him back so he wants to be there for you, to show you he will always be by your side to support you and he wishes that you feel the same towards him

if you want to talk to someone or ask for anything but you're too nervous because they're a stranger rook will offer himself to do it for you, he has no problems doing that for you, rook would never shame anyone for not having good social skills because rook himself used to be very shy as a kid and he understands how hard it can be to talk to strangers

rook LOVES to watch and re-watch musicals with you! it's one of his favorite things to do, rook feels so happy when he's watching a musical you two like by your side he truly wishes that moments like these lasted forever, because there is no place rook would rather be than by your side

other possibilities: vil ( u two are like made for eachother seriously as i read ur info i was like omfg it makes sense why you love vil so much) lilia, cater & malleus

[jamiewintons]

Match up request

Name and pronouns: Sophie she/her

Personality: Kind, outgoing, overthinker, a bit chaotic, can be a gremlin sometimes, my friends say I can bit much, in a good way. Sensitive, emotional, I feel a lot, maybe too much, I can have a life crisis moment from the tiniest things. I like cuddles, I literally have a manatee plushie made from the same fabric of my favourite blankie (double the protection/comfort). I do theatre, so that says a lot, which also means I can become a hurricane of determination and ambition if I am unsupervised

Appearance: 5ft 2. Black hair, medium length with some side bangs. Eyes: dark brown? Clothing style: colourful soft grunge? (never really figured it out)

Likes (including hobbies): Food, movies & shows, fandoms, musicals, theatre, crafting, sewing, reading and creative writing

Dislikes: I can't really think of anything at the moment, but when I do get mad, I fume up, A LOT. Like I need someone to pull me back level fuming. I also just don't like people being dicks in general

What I look for and avoid in a S/O: Someone who is nice, that cares abt me. Has some sort of passion or thing that motivates them because I think that's really attractive. Funny but knows when to be serious. Hopefully stays with me and holds my hand whenever I have life crisis panic.

Just not anyone who is an asshole

Random fact about me:

I bump into stuff a lot (not on purpose) to the point where I always have some sort of bruise on me.

I match you with...

Thomas Thorne!

If you feel a lot, Thomas is right there with you. He's super sensitive and emotional, and I think he'd be happy with someone who understands how intense emotions can be, someone who won't judge him for feeling so much.

And when it comes to cuddling, Thomas would definitely be up for that. He's super touch-starved and would love to just wrap you up in his arms - or for you to wrap him up in your arms - for as long as you want.

I think that Thomas would find theatre so interesting and he'd want to listen to you talk about your experiences on the stage. He'd also love that you're a creative writer, as a fellow artist himself, it gives you something in common. Seeing you get all determined and ambitious would certainly make him swoon!

Thomas is nothing if not passionate - about his poetry, about you, about everything! - and when he's in love with someone who loves him back, it would allow his passion to grow. I think his poetry would improve so much thanks to the real, genuine way he feels for you.

He'd absolutely adore you and treat you like a princess. If you're having a crisis, he'll be right there beside you the whole time, for as long as you need him. Though he's silly and overdramatic a lot of the time, he knows how to be serious when it comes down to it, and if you need him to be strong, he will be.

Want to be matched with a Baynton Boy? Check out all of the information here!

[potatocornflakes]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

Thanks @captain-kraken hehe

@words-from-rae @drew-jupiter if you wanna yk feel free

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nopesidope

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last night. I met the friend of someone who is important to me and after that I relieved some stress through crying.

3. Do you have kids?

I consider myself to young for that. I'm basically a child. I also don't know if I wanna have kids yet sooooo no I do not.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I constantly talk in a way that could be considered serious/jokingly/sarcastic so I'm always using the right tone. Idk

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Hair. I love hair. And like it's the only thing I can remember from people.

6. What's your eye colour?

Blue. A very pretty blue if I'm allowed to say. My eyes are the only things that I can confidently say that they are pretty about myself.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I don't like scary.

8. Any special talents?

Nopesidope

9. Where were you born?

I'm one of Germany's most underrated City's. Just kidding. But also not.

10. What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, gaming. Definitely sleeping.

I guess playing violin counts too.

11. Have you any pets?

Absolutely not. I'm literally afraid of butterflies. How am I supposed to have a pet.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

None. I don't like sports.

13. How tall are you?

1,60m

14. Favourite subject in school?

I loved maths, right now it's GO. But its not really school and a job specific subject sooo. Welp

15. Dream job?

I wanna open a bar someday. Idk I kinda dream of that since I'm 11. And I'm a apprentice in gastronomy. So who knows maybe I'll achieve it .

Thanksssss

[all-about-that-vinyl]

Entry 1: Sparrow’s online vinyl cafe (11/2/2023)

If you see this, please give it a read, two minutes of your time, please?

Cw for mild swearing and mention of losing a loved one (not graphic)

Hi. My names Sparrow, I’m 17 from and I’m Irish/English. I also use any pronouns :)

So, a bit about me. I decided to make a blog dedicated to music, specifically vinyl mainly cause it’s been a passion of mine ever since I was born really. My music taste hasn’t changed much in the past seven years, once I turned ten my music taste was pretty much solidified.

I started playing guitar at 7 and I recently got my first real fender Stratocaster and it’s the love of my life it’s called darkstar (name your guitars you’ll feel more obliged to play it) I still can’t learn chords for the life of me though-

Fun facts about me

- I literally only wear my doc martens even in the summer- they’ve been through a lot but there still in once piece

-I have asthma 💅

-im pansexual

-my favourite colour is red

Things about my profile

Ok so this is basically the terms and conditions of my account

- anyone of any age is allowed on here since the content will be majority PG if it is for some reason not I will put a warning. I swear a lot so that will be labelled.

- please do not message me if you are under 16 or over 19 and if your a 20 year old messaging me without a good reason I will just block you same goes for kids under 16.

-black lives matter that goes without saying and I am not afraid to bite an entitled arsehole of a person.

-If you are a n@tz!, p3d0, deamsexual (?!) or just anything under that category, DNI please. If I find out your interacting with my account I will report and block you.

-no bi, pan or any queer erasure. I think that goes without saying

-bullying won’t be tolerated unless it’s like that fun inside joke bullying you and your friends have, if your straight up belittling someone I’m reporting and blocking you-

Right the serious shit is over

Let’s talk about vinyl and music

Like I said before music has been such a significant part of my life since I was little I’ll always remember the CD and vinyl collection my dad had when I was growing up and his own Fender Stratocaster he had. Unfortunately my dad died in 2013 and I’m not entitled to any of his stuff until I’m 18. But my dad would love what I’m doing now, his own dream was to open his own record/music store and he very much passed that down onto me. He was never able to complete his dream so I’m trying for him. Sure this isn’t what he had in mind but this is all I have right now. Tumblr… I love collecting vinyl, I have 37 as of now and my collection is worth just over £1K.

Favourite bands?!

I love metal and rock, definitely my two favourite genres here’s a list too see what we have in common

- ghost (SWISS ?!)

- ACDC

- five finger death punch

- in this moment

- green day

- nirvana

- muse (I love muse)

- Shinedown

Anyway yea. If you see this, please leave a like, maybe a comment or a reblog, I really want to try and grow a community on here and make likeminded friends. It was good taking, until next time.

~ Sparrow

[acetechne]

good evening and welcome to my new art style. NEW? No actually its always been my art style its just taken three decades to crack it open like a geode and this is just a rough edge of it that needs some polishing mmmkay

[helloalycia]

be careful [two] // natasha romanoff

summary: as time goes on, Natasha seems to be making it harder to avoid her and you're not sure what to do.

warning/s: mentions of death, violence and injury.

author's note: and here’s part two! hope you all liked it :)

one / masterlist / wattpad

Avoiding Natasha was easier once things were back to normal, as normal as they could be before she'd been stupid enough to almost get herself killed.

But sometimes, it was inevitable, and she made it a lot more difficult to stop having feelings for her when she was closer than I wanted.

One time was when Tony was hosting a party in the Compound, inviting investors and partners and literally anyone who he knew. Tony's parties were my least favourite part about being an Avenger for the sole reason that they always got out of control and I couldn't deal with it. But he knew that, and when he announced that the party was happening a week prior, he made sure to emphasise how my presence was mandatory for team building purposes.

That was definitely bullshit, but I couldn't exactly say no since he was the one paying the bills. So, I agreed, but worked it to my advantage.

After some thinking, I realised I only had to show my face for him to know I was there. The rest of the team wouldn't care, so I hatched a plan to be present three times, making the rounds and being there long enough to be remembered by guests and Tony, but short enough so I could get out and leave.

Once I was ready, I rocked up to the party shortly after it was in full swing and resisted the urge to turn right back around and head to my room. The room was huge, packed full of people I didn't know and so busy that I already felt exhausted at the thought of socialising. But that was the point, so after sucking up a breath, I grabbed a flute of champagne and made my way over to first Avenger I saw – Wanda.

"Y/N, hey!" she said when she saw me approaching her. A bright smile was on her lips as she stepped back to look me up and down. "You look beautiful."

I couldn't help but return her smile as I joined her side. "Thanks, Wanda. So do you. Red really is your colour."

She chuckled, but I was serious. Maybe it was because of the association with her powers, but she always pulled off the colour red, especially now in her off-the-shoulder red silk dress that she was wearing.

"Thank you," she replied, bumping her hip into mine. "I'm surprised you showed up. Though I guess Tony is making you so..."

"Yeah, I don't wanna piss him off," I said with a chuckle. "But between me and you, the plan is to hop in and out of the party for the rest of the night. I have Netflix waiting for me in my room."

"Why am I not surprised," she mumbled, rolling her eyes playfully.

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it," I joked, and she laughed because she knew I was right.

I let my eyes glance around the room, already planning on who I was going to talk to next and also taking in the scene before it ended in flames, hopefully not literally. That's when I spotted Natasha in the distance, her red hair sticking out instantly amongst the crowd of people.

She was talking to some other guests, a glass of champagne in her hand and her attention fixed firmly on the guy speaking. He was clearly flirting with her and she was entertaining it, and it should have left me unsettled because who wants to see the person they like flirting with someone else? But all I could seem to focus on was how stunning she looked this evening, with a black strapless dress hugging her curves, green high heels and her long red hair left out pin straight over her shoulders.

Definitely wouldn't be stopping to say hi to her tonight, not without forgetting English.

After staying at the party long enough to be remembered by a handful of guests, I grabbed some snacks from the buffet table and made a beeline straight to my bedroom to get the real party started – an iZombie binge.

It was easy to jump into bed, unfortunately with my party outfit still on, and get lost in watching TV and snacking on rich people food. So easy that when my alarm went off two hours later, I jumped out of my skin because I was too distracted by the TV to realise. And then I groaned because realised I had to go and show my face again.

Pausing my show, I got up and went back to the party, the thought of getting more snacks being the only thing to motivate me to get up. When I got there, the guests were a little more restless, clearly tipsy, and the smell of alcohol lingered in the air as I walked around.

I spoke to a few guests, joined in on a few jokes, and checked in on Wanda once more since I'd seen her earlier, too. She seemed to be enjoying herself as she cosied up to Vision, and we all talked for a little bit until Tony Stark, the man himself, joined us.

"Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side. He was tipsy, too, like all of his guests, and very energetic. "How are you finding the party? Good, right?"

I tried not to laugh as I answered, "It's great, Tony, yeah. Not so bad after all."

"Aha, I told you!" He squeezed my shoulder before letting go and looking to Wanda and Vision. "You lovebirds having a good time?"

"It's a very pleasant event, Mr Stark," Vision answered with a nod.

Wanda chuckled and added, "It's really fun, Tony, thanks."

Tony grinned. "Perfect. Enjoy, ladies and Vision."

When he walked away, I breathed a sigh of relief. Now that he'd seen me, I probably only had to come back once more and then be able to enjoy my night alone. Perfect.

"Is this your exit now?" Wanda teased, reading my expression instantly.

I smiled sweetly. "You know me so well, Maximoff."

She laughed and the two of them wished me luck before I left, grabbing more food and heading back to my room.

The third and final time I went back to the party, all the guests were out of it. Drunk or still drinking, half passed out, dancing on tables, the whole shabam. This was why I hated Tony Stark parties, but thankfully, I didn't have to deal with it. After having a quick walk around and showing my face for the final time, I used everyone's delirium to my advantage and took a tray of bite size brownies before heading back to my room.

I was thinking about how clever I was for orchestrating this whole charade without pissing off Tony, and how I'd hit the jackpot with the brownie tray, when a voice startled me from behind and made me drop said tray.

"There you are."

"Fuck," I cursed, once I dropped the tray, and turned around to see Natasha of all people, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a knowing smirk.

Glad it was only Natasha and not Tony, I let out a sigh of relief. Then I realised I'd dropped the brownies and pulled a face, groaning. I was really looking forward to eating them.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, before looking at the fallen tray and frowning.

She straightened up and began to approach me, her smirk not fading. "I've been looking for you all night. Now I see why I couldn't find you."

I bent down to pick up the tray and clean up the brownies that had fallen, mumbling, "Don't tell Tony."

She laughed at my dismay, motioning to me in general. "What is this, Y/N?"

I stood up and placed the tray on the side, knowing somebody from the party would come to clean it up, whilst explaining my foolproof plan to avoiding having to stay at said party. When I was done, she looked oddly impressed.

"That's clever, I must admit," she said, quirking a brow, before adding, "but Tony is looking for you now, so you might want to head back in there before he realises you're gone."

I gave her a look of disbelief. "Say you're joking."

She shrugged, smiling innocently. "Afraid I'm not."

I groaned petulantly before joining her side and heading back to the stupid party. When we got there again, I looked around for the host himself, only for Natasha to step in front of me and cut off my view.

"What are you–"

"Okay, so Tony wasn't looking you," she admitted sheepishly. "I was hoping I could get a dance before the party is over."

Half of me was confused to why she wanted to dance with me in the first place, and this badly at that, and the other half of me was annoyed because I still wanted to go back to my room.

"Natasha...," I whined quietly, frowning.

She tried not to laugh as she said, "If I had told you the truth, you wouldn't have come back with me. And I did try to find you earlier, but I obviously didn't know you'd been sneaking out."

I chewed the inside of my cheek, growing nervous the longer her green eyes stared through mine with anticipation. Now that I actually paid attention to what was happening, my stomach started fluttering nervously. This wasn't part of the plan. None of it was, especially the bit where she looked like a supermodel and wanted to dance with me of all people.

"So?" she prompted with a quirked brow, holding out her hand. "Want a dance?"

I tried very hard to not look at her red-painted lips which were tugged into a half smile. "I'm not a good dancer. Hence why I sneak out of parties."

Her smile widened. "You can't be that bad."

Probably not. But if it required me to be within close proximity of her, skin touching hers, exchanging the same breath as she, then yes, I was that bad.

"You know, I've never had to put this much effort into getting somebody to dance with me," she teased, scrunching her face adorably and tilting her head.

I exhaled slowly, resting my hand in hers in response. One dance wouldn't kill me. And there was no way she'd let me leave without one, so what the hell?

My fingers tingled as she grasped my hand to lead me to the dancefloor, wading through the half-sober guests to find a clear spot in the middle. The music playing over the chatter of talking guests was loud enough for me to make out as a slow, chill instrumental. Natasha flashed me a smile as she stepped closer to me, resting her hands on my waist.

"Even if you're bad, nobody will notice," she assured me when I rested my hands on her shoulders. "They're all too wasted to see what's right in front of them."

I cracked a small, nervous smile, appreciating her effort to make me feel better, before focusing too much on swaying in time with her and not stepping on her feet. It was difficult though, when her eyes were glued to mine and her fingers were sending shivers wherever they touched me. I avoided her gaze, looking over her shoulder instead, and ignored how soft her skin was beneath my fingertips.

Her perfume was florally, filling my nose the longer we stayed swaying, and making it difficult to think straight. For someone who had a tough facade, she seemed pretty content dancing with me right now. I wondered if she knew how nervous she made me.

"D'you still hate me then?" she asked suddenly, making my eyes flicker to hers. Amusement danced in them, watching me curiously.

"I never hated you," I said, beginning to lose feeling in my fingers. "If I did, I wouldn't be here dancing with you, would I?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, lips pressed together with entertainment. "So, I just happened to be on the list of people you didn't talk to tonight then. I see."

Feeling caught out, I looked away from her subtly, trying to find a reason to get out of this one.

"I'm kidding," she whispered, fingers squeezing my waist gently, and her eyes found mine, sparkling with amusement. "Relax. You're always so stiff."

I wonder why.

"I know," I said lamely. "I’m fine."

She hummed, not believing me, but said nothing more on the matter. The song finally came to an end and we let go of one another, myself letting out a shaky breath once I was no longer in her hold. Oh, how easy it was to get lost in her eyes, her scent, her touch... this was why distance was necessary.

"Thanks for the dance," she said, earning my attention. A soft, genuine smile was on her face as she continued, "You can head back to your room now. I won't say anything to Tony, don't worry."

"Thanks," I said, swallowing hard. "Enjoy the rest of the party, Natasha."

I felt her eyes on me as I turned to walk away, and tried very much not to trip over my own feet or something. How she had the power to render me speechless was beyond me.

————————

"Do you have any nines?" Wanda asked from opposite me.

I grinned. "Go fish."

She groaned and picked a card up from the pile between us, adding it to her handful. I chewed on my lip as I looked at my own cards, wondering what to go for.

"Do you have any Jacks?" I asked, glancing up at her.

She narrowed her eyes at me before pulling out two cards and holding them towards me. I laughed as I accepted them, adding them to my handful.

"You know, I could easily use my powers and win this," she pointed out grumpily.

"Yeah, but that wouldn't be any fun, would it?" I retorted lightheartedly.

She sighed, knowing I was right, and looked back to her cards. As she was doing so, a familiar redhead made a show in the corner of my eye, making me look up to see her approaching us with a smile. I'd successfully been avoiding her since the party, only conversing if it was for work or necessity, but she always managed to find a way back to me.

"Who's winning?" she asked, leaning on the counter and looking between us.

"Y/N," Wanda mumbled, making me crack a smile. "It's my go."

Natasha laughed, rounding the counter so she was leaning next to me, slightly over my shoulder, and looking at my cards. I froze at how close she was stood, close enough for me to make out the scent of the soap she'd used earlier in the shower, and feel the warmth that was emanating from her skin.

"Got any twos?" Wanda asked, glancing up at me hopefully.

I swallowed slowly, eyes glued to my cards but not quite taking in the content of any of them. Natasha was distracting, more than usual, and I couldn't find the words to speak as Wanda awaited my response.

"Go fish," Natasha answered for me, making Wanda grumble to herself about how she was losing. Meanwhile, Natasha nudged me in the shoulder slightly, saying, "You okay?"

Subconsciously, I looked up to her when she spoke and immediately regretted it because her face was inches from mine, enough for her breath to tickle my skin whenever she exhaled. Instantly looking to my cards again, I nodded. Though, as Wanda waited for me to have my turn, I couldn't seem to focus anymore.

"I just remembered that I have to go clean my room," I said suddenly, putting my cards down.

"Aw, no, seriously?" Wanda frowned.

I got up from the stool I was sat on, forcing Natasha to take a step back, and nodded.

"Can't you do it later?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe we can all play together."

Spend more time with Natasha? No, thanks.

"I've been putting it off for a while," I answered her, briefly meeting her gaze before looking to Wanda apologetically. "Sorry, Wanda. I'll catch up with you later though."

Wanda nodded sadly, before gathering all the cards to pack away. I barely gave Natasha another glance before speed-walking out of there, glad to be out of close proximity with the redhead. She was making it more and more difficult to be around her without immediately wanting to let myself indulge in her presence.

————————

Word searches were a silly pastime of mine, something I liked to do when I had a free moment or just didn't want to focus on anything in particular. Maybe it was the mundaneness of it compared to my actual life, but I loved it.

So, I was doing a word search in the living area on the couch, knees pulled up with the book leaning on my lap and my pen in hand. It was just me there and I was grateful for the peace and quiet. Except for Natasha, of course, who happened to be in the kitchen cutting some fruit. She'd tried speaking to me when she came in moments ago, but after getting the hint that I didn't want to talk, she left me alone. The distancing seemed to be working, until the times when it wasn't.

"Ow!" she yelped, making me look up instantly.

She was shaking her thumb with a scrunched up face, and I saw a flash of red, quickly putting together what had happened. She'd cut herself with the knife.

"Shit, are you okay?" I asked, getting up and forgetting about the word search as I joined her side to get a better look.

She sighed, holding her hand with a restrained frown. "I guess. Just cut myself." She sucked up a breath, adding, "Okay, yeah, that hurts."

I chewed on my lip as I looked once more, gently grabbing her hand to see the damage. It wasn't too deep, but the blood was bright and dripping and, imaginably, painful.

"Hold on, let me find a first aid kit," I said distractedly, before letting go and searching the cupboards for one I was sure I'd seen around.

Eventually finding one in the corner drawer, I took out some alcohol wipes, a small bandage and a plaster, and began to fix her finger up so it wouldn't get infected or rip deeper.

"So, if you're not a party person, what do you like?" Natasha suddenly asked, and I was only half listening, but I was confused when I glanced up at her from her hand.

She was watching me with a curious glint in her eye, any hint of pain long gone.

"What?"

I focused back on her thumb, carefully wiping away the blood and applying the bandage so it would stop making a mess everywhere.

"What do you do for fun?" she rephrased, and I had no idea where she was going with this, but if it kept her quiet whilst I fixed her up, I'd entertain it.

"I don't know. I guess I like carnivals. Fun stuff like that."

She perked up at this. "Ooh, carnivals? Fairs?"

"There, all done," I said, letting go of her hand and finally looking up, before quickly adding in response to her question, "Yeah, I guess. Look, maybe you should take a break from your fruit salad."

Her lips spread into a wide smile, unlike the usual stoic, hard faced Natasha I'd grown to work with over the years. Not sure if that meant she'd stop or not, I sighed and took a step back.

"Try not to stab yourself in the process," was all I said, before grabbing my word search and heading to my room to be alone, properly.

She was too strange.

————————

I threw several punches at the punching bag hanging before me, revelling in the satisfying smack of my fists against the leather. Training wasn't the worst thing to do and, sometimes, it was a nice stress reliever if missions or work ever got too much.

And sometimes it was just nice to punch things.

I readjusted my footing as I went in for another fury of punches, starting to break a sweat at the swiftness of my actions.

I'd only just come down to the training room to have a workout and practice some new fighting moves when I also came across Natasha on the other side of the gym. There were other agents training, too, but she always stuck out like a sore thumb to me, so she was the first one I noticed.

Again, she'd tried to talk to me at first, but after slowly drifting away from her, she must have gotten the hint. It could have been considered rude, this distancing thing I was doing, but it was for the betterment of both of us. She wasn't one to get close to people, and I had to stop myself from wanting to get close to her.

Keeping my distance was the best option for both of us.

So, as I was punching away, minding my own business, I almost didn't hear the squeak of shoes against metal and the smack of a body hitting a leather mat. Almost.

I paused, turning around to see what had happened, only to widen my eyes when I realised it was Natasha. She'd been balancing on the metal beams we had for combat purposes and must have slipped off from the three metre height, landing on her ankle since that's what she was groaning about.

Rushing over to her side, I knelt down and looked to her worriedly. "Oh my God, Natasha, are you okay?!"

Her face screwed up in pain as she tried to bend her left leg upwards. "I think I've hurt my ankle, shit."

I looked to her ankle before saying, "Can I just–"

"Go for it," she assured me, and so I gently rolled up her leggings so I could get a better look.

There didn't seem to be any swelling, but to be sure, I carefully removed her shoe and sock and rested the heel of her foot in my hand.

"Does this hurt?" I asked, glancing at her as I slowly rotated her foot.

She shook her head and I frowned, looking back down at her foot to check once more if there was any swelling or bruising. Everything seemed to look fine, so maybe it was just a temporary ache...

"There's a carnival happening in Central Park soon," she suddenly said, interrupting my thinking.

"What?" I asked, glancing at her with confusion before rotating her foot once more to see if she flinched, but she didn't.

"Yeah, you like those, right?" she asked hopefully.

Distractedly, I held out my hands towards her and answered, "Yeah, I guess. Can you put weight on it?"

She shrugged and accepted my hands, allowing me to pull her up into a standing position and lean some weight on me. Slowly putting weight on her foot, she hissed with pain, immediately leaning back onto me.

"For God's sake, Natasha, you said you'd be careful!" I exclaimed with both concern and annoyance. "This isn't careful!"

Lately, she was getting hurt over the silliest of things and I always happened to witness it. First her almost death, then her stupid finger and now this... why was she so careless?

"You're angry," she said with realisation, watching me with a surprised expression.

I raised my brows with disbelief, still holding her upright. "Of course I am! You promised you'd be careful and you just keep getting yourself hurt!"

She groaned quietly, sighing, before letting go of me and standing up herself.

Quickly, I tried to step forward, saying, "Wait, stop before you–"

But I paused when I realised she wasn't in any pain and she was standing up perfectly fine without my help. Wait a minute... she was lying? Why the hell would she do that?!

"Seriously?!" I squeaked with surprise. "You're faking?!"

She chewed on her lip momentarily, eyes softening with mild guilt when I called her out.

"What the hell, Natasha?"

"Just wait," she said when I took a step back. "You don't pay attention otherwise. Only when I'm hurt."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? What are you taking about?"

Only when she's hurt? That wasn't true. Besides, that would mean she's been faking being hurt all this time and that couldn't be the case... could it?

"Y/N," she gave me a knowing look, "you don't even look at me unless I've somehow hurt myself. It's the only chance I get to talk to you. And I want to talk to you. This was the only way."

I scoffed, still in disbelief at the fact she'd faked it. "That's insane. I just– wow."

Shaking my head, I turned around to leave. She wouldn't need my help since she was fine after all.

"You like me," she suddenly said, and I paused, taken aback. She used that as her chance to walk towards me, stepping in front of me with a knowing smile on her lips. "You either like me or you hate me. That's the only reason you could be avoiding me."

I clenched my jaw, trying not to falter under her intense gaze. It was probably silly of me to think she wouldn't notice me distancing myself from her.

"So," she said, lifting a brow with amusement, "which is it?"

"Neither," I said calmly, unsure to what was even happening right now.

"Really?"

I nodded, standing tall beneath her curious stare, but I was still unsure to where she was going with this. She couldn't know I liked her... the whole point was to hide it forever. Or until I got over it. But this wasn't part of the plan.

"I really hope it's the former or this is gonna be awkward," she said, smile disappearing, and I didn't get the chance to work out what she meant because she moved forward, pressing her lips to mine.

Shocked was an understatement when I felt her against me, something I couldn't have even dreamed of because it was too impossible to envision. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck, pulling me close, and I almost relaxed into her touch until she pulled back gently, eyes flickering between mine.

"Looks like I was right," she said with a satisfied smirk.

I swallowed hard, lips tingling. "Natasha..."

Had that really happened? Had the Natasha Romanoff just kissed me?

"I probably should be more careful," she said softly, lips pressed firmly together, smirk fading, "but carelessness is the only way to get your attention."

Concern for her getting the better of me, I shook my head and said, "That's so stupid, Natasha. I'll pay attention, okay? Just, please, stop hurting yourself."

She paused, biting her lip gently before her lips curled into a smile. "If you let me take you to the carnival."

For what felt like the millionth time today, I was confused and shocked. "What?"

She tried not to laugh as she said, "Should I trip over again so you listen?"

When I didn't answer straight away, she let go of my neck and made an attempt to walk back to the metal beam, but I came back to reality and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"No, just– what?" I asked, skin burning wherever it made contact with hers. She wanted to take me to the carnival? She'd been trying to get my attention? What?

"One date," she said like it was the easiest thing in the world. "And I'll make sure all my limbs stay intact, don't worry."

I let go of her wrist, watching her and probably looking like a fool with my mouth hung open and eyebrows raised. Dumbly, I nodded, the thought of Natasha taking me out on a date still too good to be true.

"Perfect," she said, before grabbing my hand and looking down at it. "Can I kiss you?"

She looked up at me for confirmation, eyes bright and expression nonchalant, like this was a normal thing to be happening right now. If only she was aware of the fireworks going off in my mind.

"Of course, I'm not insane," I answered without thinking.

She laughed lightheartedly before leaning forward and kissing me once more. This time, I wasn't stupid enough to stand there like an idiot.

No, this time I kissed her back and let myself revel in the beauty that was Natasha Romanoff.

————————

Bonus

My fist connected to the Hydra agent's jaw, knocking him to the ground in an instant. I breathed out with relief, bent over and leaning on my knees to have a minute to myself.

This mission wasn't difficult at all and my role was quite simple – distract enemy long enough for Steve and Bruce to get access to the control centre – but I was a little tired from all the fighting and relived that it was finally over.

Or so I thought.

At the sound of heavy footsteps approaching me, I straightened up and internally groaned when I saw I wasn't finished. There was one more opponent left and he wasn't exactly the easiest person to take down. It was as if he had muscles built on muscles, his figure tall and looming over me and his hands bigger than my head. Nope, this wouldn't be easy at all...

I got into a fighting stance, ready to defend myself. He sneered, looking down at me, literally, and not even bothering to make an attempt to hit me. So, I made the first move, jabbing his gut repeatedly for a few seconds, but it was like punching a brick wall. If he felt anything more than a slight irritation, he didn't show it.

"You done?" he asked with a deep voice.

I swallowed hard, looking up at him and feeling slightly more intimidated than I should have. I'd fought people as big as him in my career, but rarely.

He took my silence as an answer and took a swing at my head. Thankfully, I dodged his punch, and the two more after it, before rolling out the way and kicking him in the back of the legs. He fell to his knees and I used that as my chance to jump onto his shoulders, hoping to strangle him, but he yanked me off like I was a pesky fly, and swatted me to the ground. I groaned quietly but got back up, only for him to land a lucky punch to my face and send me to the ground with a thud.

Dazed, I tried to blink away the stars in my eyes and get up, but he'd done a number on me and I was forgetting which way was up. A metallic taste was on my lips and filling my nose, making me scrunch up my nose with annoyance. Rolling onto my back, I was about to force myself up before he could come at me again, but saw that Natasha had jumped in, shooting him with her tasers and electrocuting him before he could make another attack.

I relaxed when I saw she had it under control, looking up at the ceiling with exhaustion. My lip was definitely busted, the blood dribbling into my mouth and down the back of my throat, but I was too tired to do anything about it.

"Is it nice down there?" Natasha's teasing voice asked, and then she stood over me, a smirk on her lips.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Shut up."

She laughed, holding out her hand. I grabbed it and let her help me stand up, stumbling into her slightly. She steadied me with an amused smile, before scrunching her face with apologetic eyes.

"Damn, that's a mess," she said, and I reached to my lip before realising just how much it was bleeding.

"Fuck."

————————

"Just show me, c'mon."

"No way." I shook my head, voice muffled by the cloth that was covering my busted lip. "It hurts."

Natasha, who was kneeling on the floor of the quinjet in front of me as I sat on the chair in the back, gave me a disapproving look. "Y/N."

"It looks bad, just leave me alone," I complained petulantly, afraid to show her the damage.

"Quit being a baby," she said, before reaching forward to remove my hand, but I pulled back. She gave me a disbelieving look. "Y/N!"

I whined, watching as she sighed with impatience. Feeling judged under her stare, I gave in and reluctantly lowered the cloth which was once white and now covered in blood. Instantly, she pulled a face as she inspected my lip.

"Damn, that's bad."

I raised my eyebrows sadly. "Really?"

She nodded, eyes glued to my lip with sympathy. "Oh, definitely. That's gonna scar."

"What?!"

I got up to go and find a mirror and get a look myself, but she immediately started giggling and grabbed my hand, forcing me to sit back down.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, chill out," she said with mischievous eyes.

I clenched my jaw and slapped her on the arm gently. "Idiot."

Her smile remained as she grabbed the first aid box from beside her and went through it. "Stay still, okay? I'll clean it up."

I rolled my eyes defeatedly and let her dab at my lip to rid the excess blood before soaking some gauze with disinfectant.

"Okay, this might sting," she warned, her hand holding the gauze and wavering over my lip.

Green eyes met mine with reassurance, and I prepared myself before nodding slightly. All she had to do was touch my lip and I immediately pulled back, wincing at the stinging across my mouth.

"Fuck, Natasha!" I complained, holding my head away from her hand.

She tried not to laugh as she pleaded with her eyes. "C'mon. Don't be a baby."

Hesitating, I glanced between the gauze and her before leaning in and letting her do what she had to do. The last thing I wanted was for it to actually scar. Stupid Hydra agent and his stupid fists.

"There," she said after cleaning the wound, "all done."

Her hand was resting on my chin, thumb touching my swollen lip gently and studying it once more. It was a thoughtful action, purely professional, but the attention still made me nervous. The look of concentration on her face, the feel of the pad of her thumb on my skin, the heat radiating from her touch... She definitely knew the effect she had on me as her eyes flickered up to mine and a smirk soon formed on her face.

I rolled my eyes at her smugness, making her laugh once more. She leaned in and kissed my forehead tenderly before giving me a knowing smile.

"Y'know, it's kind of hypocritical of you to tell me to be careful when you clearly weren't," she said patronisingly.

I narrowed my eyes at her and attempted to slap her on the arm, but she saw it coming this time and moved back.

"Okay, I'm done, I swear," she promised, a grin on her face, before standing up. "I'm gonna check on the boys. Stay put, yeah? And be careful, obviously."

As she walked away with a cocky smile, I attempted to trip her over with my foot but she jumped right over it and laughed her way to the cockpit, sending me a cheeky wink on the way. I rolled my eyes yet again.

Be careful, my arse.

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

[matsbarzal]

can I please request angst #14 with Petey??

angst #14. "are you going to talk to me or?"

pairing: elias pettersson x reader word count: 1.3k warnings: angst (happy ending)

Elias Pettersson knew he was good at lots of things. He knew he was a good person, a good friend, an even better hockey player. But the one thing he wasn’t good at? Understanding what he had done to upset you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have a relatively good understanding of the stupid things he did, he knew he had made plenty of mistakes in your relationships, easily fixable ones, really. Except this time.

It had been almost four days of complete radio silence, no text, no call, no FaceTime’s, nothing. You had sent him a thumbs up the moment he landed and told you he had landed, and no response since. Elias could easily tell you had been on your phone, snapchat stories and twitter likes popping up on both his feeds every now and then, but he could not fathom why you hadn’t texted him in days.

You had fought hundreds of times before, little spats here and there, petty arguments that just turned into nothing when he brought home your favourite food, but never an argument to the extent that you wouldn’t even text him.

“You alright over there, Petey? Lookin’ a little queasy… oh shit that rhymed, look at me go,” trying to ignore Brock was even more difficult than trying to understand why you weren’t texting him, especially when said blonde was his best friend and could pick up on every social cue Elias was giving off.

“Fine, yeah.”

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, the Swede thumbed through his phone, bringing up your contact card and then exiting out every few seconds. “Y/N still not texting you? You sure you didn’t do anything before we left?”

Tossing the phone onto the table in front of him, Elias groaned as he tried to rack his head for what he could’ve done wrong before leaving Vancouver. There was a multitude of things it could be, there was a spat right before he left the apartment, an argument over moving the cars, which somehow turned into him suggesting that the two of you should get a dog.

The Swede couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment in your last two days with one another where he might have upset you to the point of not speaking.

Halfway across the country, your eyes had barely left the box you had found sitting in Elias’ top drawer since he left. It was all you could focus on, your eyes constantly moving to find the little black box that you had moved to the top of the dresser, its closed lid haunting you, taunting you the more and more your eyes peered to it.

Elias hadn’t made any indications that this was what he was pushing towards, you hadn’t even realized he was considering this. Two years into a relationship, you knew it was possible, but you just didn’t realize how possible.

You loved him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t, but did you love him enough to get married? Maybe. But add in the constant bickering, the continuous fights, the never-ending spats that had no regular conclusion and usually just consisted of some form of idiotic makeup in the hopes the both of you would forget about what you were arguing for anyways.

The silent treatment may have been petty, all of Elias’ texts going unanswered, snapchats only being sent back every time the timer would appear next to your streak. You knew it was childish, and was probably terrifying your boyfriend, but your brain couldn’t fathom what to do, couldn’t fathom what you wanted.

The game against the Canadiens had been explosive, the Canucks losing horrifically, and Elias’ play just an even bigger catalyst to the team. It was the first game you had watched where he hadn’t played his best, the turnovers were consistent, his numbers were down, his penalty minutes were even higher than usually.

And you knew there was a large possibility you were the main cause for his deterioration of play.

Pulling up your phone from its spot stuffed under the covers, you scrolled until you reached his contact name, the little blue dot beside it just an indication of how many messages had gone unanswered in the last few days. Before you even had the chance to send a message through, his contact name appeared at the top of your list.

are you going to talk to me or am i going to come home to an empty apartment tn? not sure what i did wrong but this isn’t fair

You could feel the guilty instantly seep through your body at the text message, your eyes welling up with unshed tears at the message that came through. Elias was your best friend, the epitome of everything good in your life, and something about that just terrified you.

i’ll be here when u get home, ‘Lias. have a safe flight xo

A large sigh of relief left the Swede’s lips when the three bubbles popped up under your name, an even bigger sigh leaving his lips when you said you’d be home when he got there. He allowed his phone to drop in between his legs, his eyes focusing on the iPad in front of him, currently playing reruns of New Girl, your favourite show to watch together.

Almost six hours later, you heard the sound of the lock clicking, the door swinging open to reveal a dishevelled and thoroughly exhausted-looking Elias Pettersson.

“So, are we going to do this now? I told Brock to set up his guest bedroom, I’m not arguing all night so let’s just get this over with,” his keys were tossed onto the centre island, his eyes never leaving yours as you tried to rack your brain for what to say.

“I found the ring… in your top drawer.”

Your stomach turned as you watched the array of emotions fly across Elias’ face; confusion, frustration, anger, sadness, everything smoothing together before he placed a stoic look across his features.

“You freaked out and ignored me for almost five days, because you found a ring in my drawer?” The scoff fell from his lips almost beautifully, his features twisting into annoyance as he looked at you.

“I just… I didn’t know how to react. We argue about everything, ‘Lias. We literally fight about the colour of the sky, and you’ve already bought a ring?”

Moving so he was sitting on the couch opposite of you, the Swede turned so his entire body was facing you, the stoic look now turning into a look of concern.

“Y/N… we fight about everything because that’s just how we are. Our fights have never, ever turned into anything serious. We argue with each other because we both never want to be wrong, that shouldn’t be a reason for you to freak out and not want to marry me one day, my love. Just because I have the ring doesn’t mean I want to get married tomorrow. It’s my grandmother’s engagement ring, Emil let me have it for the day I eventually propose to you. I didn’t buy it, it’s been sitting in that drawer for ages.”

You could feel the embarrassment settling in your stomach at his words, your stomach turning as you tried to think of a response. The only thing you could muster up was an apology, your eyes never leaving your hands as they twisted amongst each other.

His body moved closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your back as he gently pulled you into his side.

“You don’t need to apologize, just maybe instead of going ghost, argue with me instead? Since when are you one to hide your feelings, especially something like that?”

Shrugging your shoulders at his words, you felt his lips press against the crown of your head gently, his hands squeezing your side as he did so.

“Pinky promise that you won’t do that again? Scared the shit out of me and Brock, and Brock never gets scared.”

Pushing your pinky finger towards him, he wrapped his own around yours with a smile small, his head pressed against yours as he squeezed your pinky with his own.

“And quit going through my drawers, nerd.”

“Don’t leave your clothes in the dryer then and I won’t have to put them away for you, Pettersson.”

note: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you enjoy, and it's everything you wanted. it's not too angsty, and it has a happy ending so hopefully that's perfect. <3

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you.  He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.  

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

    With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

    He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

    He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

    He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

    It was something so simple, so mundane.

    You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

    “Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

    “Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

    What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

    It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

    The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

    He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

    It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

    “Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

    You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

[katyasrussianaccent]

symptom of your touch (natasha romanoff x reader)

Author's note: This is my first natasha smut fic, been writing it in my head for so long. Hopefully you enjoy this piece of self-indulgent smut!

Summary: You're Tony's personal assistant with a crush on Black Widow. Could it be possible that she might feel the same?

Warnings: Bathroom sex, bottom! Nat.

The first time you met Natasha was in the meeting room at Stark tower. You’d been working as Tony’s personal assistant for about two months now; a job that was both unexpected but incredibly appreciated - the daily bills through your letterbox were getting more and more threatening, red words in large letters demanding money you didn’t have.

You were a friend of Sam’s; you used to jog together before you were replaced by Captain America. You didn’t mind, not really, because well, it was Captain America. You couldn’t compete with that ass. And while you didn’t jog as much, Sam always made sure you were okay.

Like most people; you were a fan of the Avengers. If you had to pick a favourite, it would have been Black Widow. Maybe it was because she was the only woman, but there was something about her that you just really liked. And it wasn’t just because she’s really fucking hot and you’re really gay.

You had walked into the meeting room; your hands full with various drinks. For superheroes, the Avengers were really particular about their drink orders; for instance Thor gets really annoyed if they forget the whipped cream on his hot chocolate. You walked round the room, handing each drink out and trying to not look so obvious as you eavesdropped. You handed Clint his drink and turned towards Natasha. You assumed she had been away on a mission, because she hadn’t been around until now. You swallowed a little; the object of your affections was literally sitting right in front of you.

“Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out her drink; a matcha green tea latte. She looked at you for a second, a thoughtful look on her face as she cocked her head towards Tony.

“What happened to…..?” Natasha trailed off, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Shannon. Pregnant,” Tony answered, putting his hands out over his abdomen to mimic a pregnant stomach. “She was two seconds away from turning the floor into a slip and slide.”

Natasha scrunched her nose up before looking back at you. She took the drink from your hand, a small smile on her face before she turned back to the team. And it was in that brief moment, that you knew that she was going to be a big problem for you.

It’s a while before you see Natasha again; not that you were keeping check. You’re in the meeting room cleaning up; humming a song as you pick up pieces of paper. The door opens and you look behind to see Natasha standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Good afternoon Agent Romanoff,” you say, smiling. She was in her civilian clothes; a simple tank top and dark jeans. The jeans are practically molded to her shape, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not stare at her ass as she passes behind you. You aren’t sure how someone could make such a simple outfit look so amazing. “Did you need something?”

“Clint, he forgot his phone,” she replies, walking behind you and grabbing the cell phone that lay on the table. “I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Good thing he has you to keep him in check.”

She smiles politely in reply but doesn’t respond as she walks towards the door. Your mouth opens slightly to say something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. You fail to do so in time, and you sigh as the door closes and the room is empty again. You aren’t sure what makes Natasha so fascinating, you’ve spoken to her literally twice, but there’s just something about her that makes her so enigmatic. Though you suppose it’s literally her job to be like that, and you briefly think of the people that have fallen under her spell.

It’s strange, how although she’s incredibly dangerous, she feels just like a normal person, a person that could kill you in one move, but a normal person nonetheless.

You’re chopping tomatoes in the kitchen, your mind starting to zone out as you watch the knife slice through with ease. It’s been a long day; while working for Tony has been a lifeline that you desperately needed, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so tired. The fridge door beside you closes, and you startle at the sudden noise, the knife moves from the tomato to your finger, the pain sharp as blood begins to pool in the cut.

“Fuck,” you say, hissing as you press you other hand against the cut, moving to the sink to run it under water.

“I am so sorry,” a voice says behind you, and you turn your head to see Natasha at your side. “Are you okay?”

You sigh a little, “I’m fine, but the tomatoes are ruined.”

Natasha moves nearer to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body and any previous pain you felt has suddenly disappeared at the mere proximity of her. “It’s okay, Stark can afford a few tomatoes.”

You giggle before reaching over to get a paper towel, but Natasha beats you to it, pressing the towel onto your wound wordlessly.

“Baby,” she mutters as you wince and you look at her, mouth agape in shock. She ignores you, and you take this opportunity to look at her as she tends to the small cut on your finger. She must have been somewhere hot on her last mission; from this close you can see the slight colour on her nose and cheekbones where she’s caught the sun. As she moves out of your personal space, the scent of her invades your nostrils and you’re surprised that she smells so delicate and floral.

“I think you’ll live” she says, jutting her chin out to point to the small band aid on your finger.

“Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”

“Why? My bedside manner not appealing to you?” she asks, and you look down to hide the blush on your face as you think briefly about what Natasha’s bedside manner could entail.

“Uh, not at all, it’s very appealing. I mean, not very appealing -”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says as she leaves the kitchen, leaving you with a bandaid on your finger and a warmth between your thighs.

--

The first thing you notice about the party is how loud it is. It’s Tony’s birthday, so Stark tower has been transformed into a full on party tower. The room is crammed with people, and you take a moment to look around to see if you can find someone you know to attach yourself to. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, you just weren’t the type to spark a conversation with strangers. You can see Thor in the middle of the room, holding a keg as Steve is on the floor chugging from it. Guess even Captain America needs to let loose sometimes.

You bite your lip as you scan the people near you, your eyes zeroing in Natasha. You take the opportunity to watch her briefly from a distance. She looks amazing, a simple black dress that has a slit to the upper thigh that shows a delicious amount of leg when she moves. You haven’t spoken since she called you cute, and the more you thought about it, the more confused you were. While cute was a compliment, you weren’t sure if she meant it in a puppy kind of way. Sexy wasn’t the first thing you thought about yourself, but you kind of wish that she had picked a better word. Maybe you were just imagining tension that wasn’t there because you hoped it was there.

You exhale any nervousness and plaster a smile on your face as you walk towards her. She raises an eyebrow in greeting and you wave at her, immediately regretting it.

“Hi,” you greet and she smiles a little.

“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roaming over your body. Okay, maybe you weren’t imagining things.

You blush, your face feeling warm as you mutter a quiet thanks. “It has pockets,” you respond lamely, putting your hands in them and pulling the dress out, like she needs to be shown what pockets were.

“Drink?” Natasha asks, cocking her head towards the bar. You shake your head. “You don’t drink?”

“I do, just not here. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of my boss,” you answer. You don’t have a problem with alcohol per se, you just never know when to call it quits. And while drunk you is fun, you really want to make a good impression.

Natasha nods in understanding but walks off towards the bar anyway, and you stand there for a second confused before following.

“Two virgin daiquiris,” you hear her say as you get to her. You can see the bartender pull a face at the request, but it quickly disappears when he sees who’s ordering.

“Coming up,” he mumbles, his eyes glued to anywhere but Natasha as he moves with haste.

“I think you scared him,” you comment and Natasha smiles a little, a smug smile that shouldn’t be so sexy, but it really is.

“I get that a lot,” she replies and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do I scare you?”

The question takes you aback and you ponder a moment before answering. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

“Answer the question,” she says, a little firm in her tone.

“No. No you don’t scare me.”

She purses her lips. “I think you might be one of the only ones not scared of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing.

“Fear is a very powerful thing. I like the way it feels,” she says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable.

“There are other powerful emotions other than fear,” you reply. You aren’t sure how to respond to her, serious conversation was not your strong suit.

“Like?”

“Lust. Love. Anger.”

There’s a beat of silence between you as you look at each other, your eyes reading over her unreadable face, nothing on her features to give away what she's thinking.

“So you aren’t scared of me. What emotion do you feel?” Natasha asks, causing you to splutter as you take a sip of you drink and you’re suddenly wishing your drink had alcohol in it.

“Out of the three I just gave?” you ask and she nods. “Uh well, I hadn’t um really thought about it.”

It’s stupid of you, to lie to a literal spy and you know for a fact she know’s you’re lying.

“That’s not true,” she replies and you take a sideways glance at her. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me?”

Your heartbeat quickens and you start to stammer an apology. “I - “

“I know, because I’ve been looking at you too.”

“Wait what?” you ask incredulously. “Are you sure there’s no booze in this drink?”

Natasha laughs and you smile at the sight of her. “Very sure. You’re very cute, did you know that?”

“I did not, but now I do. I’ll be honest, this doesn’t happen to me a lot, so I’m not really sure what to say or do.”

She slides closer to you, a smirk on her face as she leans close, her breath warm on your cheek. “Well there’s a bathroom over there.”

It takes a minute for you to register what she means, and you can see her wait patiently as you look at the bathroom door across the room and then back at her. The blood is rushing in your ears as you grab her hand and pull her across the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The bathroom is luckily empty when you both enter, and your hands don’t leave hers as you push her into the stall furthest away from the door. You open your mouth to speak but it’s interrupted as she surges forward, her lips on yours. She tastes like strawberries with a slight hint of booze, and you wonder how many drinks she’s had before you arrived. You find yourself not really caring as her hands move to your neck, yours follow down to her hips, your fingertips ghosting her back.

You’ve kissed before, but this is different, like fireworks and gunpowder in a small room; every nerve in your body alight with hot, searing fire. You switch her round so her back is against the door, your hands roaming ever inch of her body, tight muscle beneath your fingertips. Part of you wants to take your time, explore every part of her, but the greedy part of your brain wins out and it’s not long before you’ve got one hand moving in between her thighs.

Your mouth is on her neck, licking and sucking at the hollow of her collarbone, a small moan falling from her lips and you want to hear that sound again and again. She opens her legs and you cup her above her panties before going underneath them, your fingers moving past soft curls and into the warm, wetness of her pussy.

You curl your fingers up, and she gasps, her breath hot and fast against your skin. You move them inside her, pumping in and out slowly as her hand grips at your hip. It feels powerful; to have the great Black Widow fucking herself on your fingers in an act of desperation.

“Please,” she whispers as you continue to slowly move.

“Please what?” you ask, stopping completely causing a small whine to escape her lips.

“Please fuck me,” Natasha replies, rolling her hips against your fingers.

“Okay,” you say simply. You press a kiss to her cheek before sinking to your knees. A brief thought about gross bathroom floors crosses your mind, but you push it away as her hand strokes your hair. She takes the hint and pulls her dress up around her hips. Your hands move up her thighs, nudging them apart so you can pull down the lacy underwear she wears; shoving them into your bag. Pressing kisses up her thigh, her breath hitches as your mouth ghosts against her clit. She sighs as your tongue swipes at her once before moving in to circle at her clit with your tongue.

She moans, a low, quiet moan that ends quickly as you both hear the bathroom door open, the chatter of two women filling the once silent room. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Natasha looks down at you, a slight flush on her cheeks as she nods. You place a finger to your lips, before moving back between her thighs. She tastes sweet, sweeter than you imagined, but there’s something there, a slight tang that makes your tongue tingle. Of course she would taste fucking perfect; everything about her is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from tasting her more and more, drinking her in.

Your fingers join your mouth and she’s warm as she clenches with every movement inside her. She’s jutting her hips against your mouth, and you can feel your wrist start to cramp as you fuck her roughly, but you know she’s close, the grip in your hair getting harder. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, your knees are starting to hurt, but you want to make her come undone, to fall apart.

You hook her leg over your shoulder to get deeper, never stopping the pace as you fuck her. Her body begins to shudder, and you look up to see her shove a fist in her mouth at the exact moment the toilet next to you flushes. A moan escapes her but neither of you seem to care as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her chest has a sheen of sweat, and you want to run your tongue over it, taste the salt of her skin. But that’s for another time.

Natasha looks down at you as she tries to catch her breath, and you get to your feet ungracefully, wincing as your knees twinge. There’s uncertainty in your stomach as you look at her. What does this mean, does it mean anything to her? You had just made her cum in a bathroom stall, but maybe that was normal. It wasn’t to you, but normality was subjective.

“This party’s kind of boring, do you want to get something to eat?” Natasha asks, breaking you from your inner turmoil. You blink at her as your brain registers what she’s saying. The once uncertain voice in your head is screaming at you to say yes.

“Sure,” you reply simply.

“Cool,” she says, nodding, her face still slightly flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she felt a little awkward.

“I’m not getting those panties back am I?” she asks as you walk towards the bathroom door and head back into the party.

“Nope,” you say, patting your bag for good measure. “Besides, you might not need them.”

--

[clarawatson]

It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious. 

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes. 

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work. 

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day,  Aaron?" 

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?" 

"Sure is. Do you want some?" 

"Please." 

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs. 

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised. 

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him. 

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras. 

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

 “Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount. 

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question. 

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off. 

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack. 

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile. 

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage. 

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine. 

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general? 

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing. 

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet." 

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie." 

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact. 

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation. 

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter. 

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip. 

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers. 

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out. 

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you. 

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say. 

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist (if you want to get added, just inbox me, and if I’ve missed you I am so sorry): @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 @yoshigguk @samanthareid06 @typical-leo @leilanixx

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Gingerbread (Ficmas #1)

Here we go!!! Ficmas day one! Super excited about this - I’ve never done ficmas before! As promised... a little sweet competition!

Characters and their world by @lumosinlove “Is everyone ready?” Celeste asked, standing around her kitchen, looking at the room nearly overflowing with hockey players and their loved ones. “Leo and I are the judges. The rules are simple, you all have to build a gingerbread house, everything you need is right in front of you. The best looking one wins, okay?” 

Remus grinned and nodded, nudging Sirius excitedly. They had everything - including the gingerbread premade by Celeste herself, so even if it looked like a disaster it was sure to taste amazing. Not that theirs would look anything less than fantastic.

On second thought, maybe a group of highly competitive athletes working against each other instead of with each other was a bad idea.

“Okay guys!” Leo called as he hopped up to sit on the counter and oversee the proceedings. “You have one hour. Your time starts.... Now!”

Remus grinned at Sirius, and then they set to work.

Logan knew watching Leo be all authoritative as a judge while he just had to watch would be hard. He didn’t know it would be torture. He was teamed with Adele and Katie, but Adele had to keep hitting his arm to get his attention.

“Logan,” She warned. “I want to win. Now are you gonna focus or not?”

Logan shook his head. Leo could wait. He had a competition to win. “Oui, sorry yes I’m good now.”

Adele nodded, apparently satisfied and Katie drew their attention back to her when she started bouncing in her seat. 

“Allez!” She said, her eyes wide, “Tremzy come on I wanna get to the part where I can eat it.”

Logan chuckled but obliged her, obediently holding pieces of gingerbread in place at the girls’ command as the icing dried.

“Okay, no pressure or anything, but your name’s Noelle so I’m expecting you to dominate this Christmas thing.” Thomas said, only partially jokingly as Noelle carefully piped the outline of their ‘windows’. 

“Um, excuse you Thomas Walker,” She replied, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Okay, but hear me out,” Thomas started as he picked up a piece of gingerbread, and started piping green spikes on it. “We should have pine trees in front of it.”

Noelle looked at him like he was losing his mind. “Babe, it’s a gingerbread house.” She said slowly as if it were a foreign concept.

“I know!” Thomas said, excitedly waving his hands and as he did, his pine tree went flying through the air and landed in Kasey’s hair. 

Kasey turned around very slowly and looked around menacingly, reaching up and pulling the biscuit out of his hair, leaving green splotches and crumbs in its wake.

“Who?” He ground out, and Thomas looked around with a shocked expression. “I have no idea! Noelle? Did you see anything?”

Noelle bit down her laugh and shook her head. “Non. Maybe it was one of the kids?” She said, looking over at Logan’s table to where Katie had more icing on her than the house. Kasey followed her and his vision softened. He nodded once and turned back around, Thomas made another tree and held it up to Noelle.

“They’ll never see it coming.” He said, finally finishing his statement. Noelle rolled her eyes, but in the end, there were a ton of palm trees in their ‘garden’. 

Finn was with Pascal and Marc, all of them particularly competitive and set on winning except there was one little problem… None of them had ever actually made a gingerbread house before.

“I think it goes like this?” Marc said, tilting his head as he stuck two pieces together, the icing going everywhere. He let go and they all held their breath while the biscuits stood for about ten seconds before collapsing so slowly it was actually a little sad. 

“I say we give up and just eat everything.” Finn proposed. Marc nodded, Dumo looked like he was going to put up a fight, but one glance at their gingerbread wreckage had his shoulders slumping. He reached out and broke off a bit of biscuit, popping it into his mouth with a grin.

“At least it tastes good?”

“But we didn’t make-” Marc began.

“Shh.” Finn cut him off with a playful wink. “At least it tastes good.”

Kasey’s hair was green and that had been a problem but then Alex promised he’d wash it out himself later that night and well, those words along with the little wink Natalie sent him had Kasey pretty okay with the whole situation. He sat there, smiling softly as he listened to Alex and Natalie chat away while Kasey did all the actual work, creating quite a nice gingerbread house, thank you very much.

Kasey grew up with his dad baking every Sunday and he’d always help. He wasn’t ashamed to say he was quite handy with a piping bag, and Alex was watching with wide eyes as Kasey piped ‘snow’ on the roof.

“How-” Alex stuttered, his eyes focused on Kasey’s hand.

Natalie bit down her smile. “He likes to keep people guessing.”

“I… I’m not complaining.”

“Like what you see O’Hara?” Kasey asked, unable to stop himself from teasing the other man. Alex was as prone to flushing a deep red as his brother, but Kasey found Alex looked a lot boyish when it happened to him.

“I definitely like what I’m seeing.” Alex replied, before cheekily dipping his finger in the icing and smirking at Kasey as he ate it. 

Natalie laughed at them both as she leaned in and kissed the sugar dusting Alex’s lips. Kasey raised an eyebrow, but kept looking at what he was doing, until Alex was standing next to him.

“Open up.” Alex prompted, holding his icing coated finger up to Kasey’s lips. Kasey made eye contact with Natalie for a split second, before doing as instructed, smiling into the kiss Alex gave him after.

“Chocolate was always my favourite.” Alex said with a sigh as he sat back down, Natalie placing her feet in his lap as she shamelessly ate the sweets they needed to decorate. Kasey glanced up to see Leo already looking at him.

“Redheads.” Leo mouthed with a shrug, “Gotta love em.”

Leo had to admit, sitting back and watching the world devolve into chaos was quite entertaining. He could still taste the gingerbread Finn had given him, their house looking more like it had been hit by a hurricane instead of like someone had actually tried to, you know, build it. Logan’s little team was doing a whole lot better, it was looking a little messy but Katie was doing a lot of the icing and well, there’s only so neat kids can be, try as they might. 

Leo’s heart melted as it always did when he would watch Logan with Dumo’s kids. He was just so good with them and they adored him in turn. One of the spare bedrooms in their apartment had been the designated spot for where they would keep presents until they were able to give them out, and Leo was fairly sure half of the room’s contents were just Logan’s presents for the little Dumais’.

“Are rookies even allowed to be judges?” Thomas queried as Leo passed and Leo had fun getting to act all haughty. Thomas looked particularly suspicious and Leo didn’t miss the correlation between the green icing he sported and the little patch of colour in Kasey’s hair. Leo filed that little bit of information away for a day he could really use it.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to get on a judge's bad side, Talkie?”

“Hey, you love me!” Thomas protested and Noelle shook her head. 

“No, but he loves me.” She said looking at Leo and winking. “You’ve got to stay on the good side of your future in-laws.”

Leo felt himself flush even as Logan twisted in his seat to look at them. “Tricheuse!” Logan cried. “Leo baby don’t listen to her, she just wants to win.” He stuck out his tongue at Noelle.

Leo abandoned Noelle and Thomas to crouch next to Logan, smirking. “Am I not marriage material Tremblay?”

Another time, earlier in their relationship maybe, Logan would have scrambled to reassure Leo, probably tripping over his own words so many times nothing actually coherent came out. Now though, Logan just smiled at him lazily.

“The most. I just mean she loves you either way, I think there’s literally nothing you could do that would make her not like you.”

Leo kissed him on the cheek before laughing as Katie wrapped her arms around him. 

“Salut Katie!” He said, standing up to throw her in the air, Katie shrieking with laughter before Leo set her back down on her chair. Leo stood up and began to move away, but not before he missed Katie unintentionally chirping Logan, “Leo throws me high.” She said in a serious tone as Leo snorted his laughter, shaking his head as he moved away.

Regulus hadn’t been sure about building a gingerbread house with Nado and Kuny - he didn't really know them and as a general rule, he didn’t like to spend too much time with people he didn’t know. But Dima got on with them really well and Dima was his friend so here Regulus was, building a gingerbread house in Pascal Dumais’ house. Two snakes in a lion's den.

“Are you sure that will hold?” Regulus found himself asking sceptically as Kuny attempted to build a several story building. Gingerbread house - more like gingerbread mansion if Kuny had his way.

Nado answered instead just nodding his head. “Of course.”

“Fair enough.” Regulus conceded, happy to sit back and watch the proceedings. He glanced around the room, still not quite sure where he fit into this chaotic little familial like team, but happy to be here all the same. More than happy to see nothing but pure joy on his brother’s face. Hope because maybe Regulus could find that kind of happiness here too.

“D’accord!” Celeste called, clapping her hands. “Okay everyone step away from your tables, your time is up!”

The team piled into the sitting room as Celeste and Leo judged all the gingerbread houses. Sirius and James sat on the floor, with Harry playing happily with them. Remus and Lily sat snugly on the couch above them, both nursing mugs of tea and heads bent together as they caught each other up on the events of the last couple of weeks. 

Finn and Logan were having an arm wrestling competition in the corner and most of the others piled around to watch them, all yelling for someone. Logan won, Finn hanging his head in shame and then they were both immediately challenged by the rest of the team, Logan battling (and losing quite dramatically) to Katie. 

Leo and Celeste came back into the room, looking quite smug as they held up a cardboard trophy.

“We have the winner,” Leo said to get everyone’s attention and the sudden hush that fell upon the room was quite comical. 

“Drumroll!” Thomas cried and the room was filled with the rapid thuds of everyone slapping their hands against the nearest object.

“And the winner is…” Celeste drew out, “Katie, Adele and Logan!”

The trio jumped up, hugging and high fiving. 

Logan stood up on a chair and pressed his hands against his chest in gratitude. 

“Thank you, thank you,” He joked, wiping away a fake tear. “We’ve been dreaming about this for, mon dieu, I don’t know how long.”

“You weren’t this dramatic when you won MVP!” Sirius called from the back of the room and Logan winked at him before continuing. “I think Adele had the idea that secured our win though, Adele?”

The girl dashed to the kitchen and came back with their little gingerbread house, the outside entirely lined by little gingerbread people. 

“We made the team!” Katie said, bouncing on her toes. There was a rush as everyone came over to have a look and before long, everyone was grabbing their figurine and eating them.

“Goodbye little Thomas.” Talkie said mournfully before biting its head off.

“Hey, maybe now I can give myself head.” Leo muttered to Finn, who promptly choked, spitting crumbs everywhere as he flushed a deep red.  

Remus leaned back into Sirius as they munched on their biscuits. 

“This is fun. We should do it again next year.”

Sirius wiped the crumbs from his lip and tightened his hold on Remus’ waist. “And the year after that, and they year after that, and the ye-”

Remus giggled, twisting in Sirius’ arms to shut him up by kissing him. “Yeah, baby. I’d like that.”

[silverlightqueen]

Ozone 🦋

‘I need some reasons to live, maybe you could show me some.’

Phases - Hwang Hyunjin X Chase Atlantic

Rating: M (heavy angst, fluff, slightly suggestive)

Warnings: substance abuse, drug addiction, depression and discussion of suicidal behaviours/thoughts, toxic relationship, mention of alcohol, strong language

Word Count: 9.3k+ 

a/n: and here is the third (and my favourite) part of phases, my hhjxchaseatlantic series! please proceed with caution because this fic contains some serious and potentially triggering topics! I really hope you guys enjoy this, lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! the biggest thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess for proofreading this, love you sis xo

taglist 🦋: @diue @shesfuckedinthehead @danyxthirstae01 @linours @titleisyettobemade @jikooksgirl19​ @straytannies​ @silverlightprincess​

‘I’m so sorry, Chaer, I gotta go, they’re blowing up my phone, I-’ ‘It’s okay, y/n, don’t worry about it. I’ll finish my story after,’ Chaeryeong says softly, patting the other girl’s shoulder comfortingly, and she mirrors Chaeryeong’s smile as she gets up from the table, trying to leave without Lia noticing her. She needs to be quick because she doesn’t wanna miss anything, so she slips around the edges of the room, hoping not to get caught in a conversation with one of Lia’s drunk uncles.

The sun is just beginning to set, the sky streaked with the most beautiful pastel colours, and a gentle breeze blows, kissing her exposed skin. The dresses Lia chose for them are so gorgeous – sea blue layers of floaty chiffon with thin straps and leg slits – and they’re perfect for this warm summer evening. The doorman offers her his arm to help her, and her heels click against the front steps of the manor house that Lia’s family have rented. She continues walking, right onto the grass, to make sure she’s stood a sufficient distance from the front door and the staff, not wanting anyone to overhear her conversation.

‘Where the fuck are you guys? The speeches are done, they’re about to serve the starters, and you idiots still aren’t here!’ she hisses angrily down the phone, Jisung silent for a moment before he says, ‘If any of you had answered your phones, then you’d know where we’ve been. And anyway, don’t blame all of us. It’s your idiot boyfriend that’s the problem.’ She takes a deep breath, already feeling her eyes fill with tears. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ ‘Okay, well, whatever the fuck he is to you.’ ‘It doesn’t matter what he is to me – he’s your best friend. But anyway, what’s he done?’ ‘He’s blown out his mind again. Taken so many xans that I’m surprised he hasn’t passed out.’

She takes a deep breath, trying not to scream, and closes her eyes for a moment to compose herself. ‘Where are you?’ ‘At your place. We went straight there after the ceremony, to pick up the present like you asked, but he decided to pop a few while he waited in the car. They haven’t fully kicked in yet, so we’re waiting for him to get over the peak.’ ‘No, you can’t wait. You’re gonna have to just bring him.’

‘…y/n, are you insane? He’s gonna be higher than a kite in, like, 30 minutes!’ ‘I know, but you can’t miss this! You already missed the speeches, and Lia will start asking where you guys are soon. Our table is literally right at the front of the room, and there are four empty seats. It’s very noticeable, and very embarrassing that four of her closest friends are a no-show at her wedding!’ ‘Yeah, but we can’t bring him while he’s like this!’ ‘We’ll leave him in the car and take turns to look after him until he’s come down.’ ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yes! It’s better than you guys missing her wedding! Get here now.’ ‘Okay, okay, we’re on our way. We’ll be there in 20.’ ‘Make it 15.’ ‘y/n-’ ‘I’m not kidding, Sung!’ ‘Fine, 15. You’re paying any speed tickets, though.’ ‘Fine, whatever, just get here.’

The line clicks off and she blinks a few times to clear her vision before heading back up into the big ballroom, slipping back to her seat. ‘Where are they?’ Yeji asks the second she sits down, all of them waiting for her answer. ‘Hyunjin got high, so they were waiting for him to come back down before they came,’ she says quietly, embarrassed at his behaviour, and all of her friends look furious.

‘Is he fucking kidding? On Lia’s wedding day? How fucking selfish can he be?’ Ryujin hisses angrily, and all she can do is nod in agreement. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But I told them to come anyway, and he can just wait in the car. It’s not fair that the other three should miss Lia’s big day because of him,’ she says softly, none of them wanting any of the other wedding guests to hear.

‘I swear to God, y/n, you need to drop him. He’s a fucking waste of space, and I’m sick of his bullshit,’ Chaeryeong says, and the other girl doesn’t say anything, looking at the empty seat beside her with thinly veiled misery. ‘Um, he’s our friend,’ Minho says, the girls turning their irritated gazes to him. ‘He’s our friend too, but it doesn’t mean what they said isn’t true. He is a waste of space, and we are sick of his bullshit,’ Yeji says softly, the boys exchanging glances before nodding in agreement. ‘Yeah, I guess. We just… feel bad for him,’ Changbin says, and Yuna scoffs. ‘Yeah, I did too. When we were in high school. We’re adults now, and we all have our lives together. He’s the only one that doesn’t. He needs to grow up like the rest of us,’ she says drily, everyone on the table in agreement that he’s a total mess.

It’s all too much for her, hearing all of this out loud, and she gets up from the table suddenly, all of them turning their gazes to her, guilt and concern appearing on their faces. ‘y/n, are y-’ ‘I’m fine, I just… gotta… go,’ she says faintly, getting up and heading towards the exit, stumbling out into the corridor with tears filling her eyes again. She makes her way to the bathroom on shaky legs, smiling weakly at Lia’s aunties that are congregated by the mirrors, gossiping about so-and-so’s dress and so-and-so’s new haircut.

She locks herself into a cubicle and checks Jisung’s location on her phone, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees his little dot moving closer to her own. She takes a minute to calm herself down, trying not to let their words about the boy she’s in love with replay in her mind, but she can’t help it. He is selfish, and a waste of space. It may be hard to hear, but it’s all true, and he’s never done anything to prove otherwise, never even attempted to show everyone they’re wrong about him. He’s a mess, and he knows it just as well as everyone else does.

She doesn’t know how long she’s sat on the lid of the toilet, watching Jisung’s dot on her phone, but when she finally leaves the cubicle, the bathroom is completely empty and eerily quiet. She stares at herself in the mirror for a while, and a small but genuine smile appears on her face at her reflection. She woke up super early this morning to make sure she looked especially nice, and she definitely achieved it – her makeup is flawless despite the tears that have threatened to spill twice already today, and her hair is perfect, unaffected by the slight breeze that’s been blowing since this morning.

She rolls her shoulders and neck to release some of the tension in her body, the crack of her bones echoing in the empty room. She puts her phone on the side, washing her hands with the expensive jasmine hand-soap, and just as she finishes drying her hands, the door opens. ‘Ah, y/n! My darling, you look gorgeous!’ Lia’s grandmother says with a big smile, the girl letting out a little exclamation of excitement as she wraps her arms around the small woman. ‘Thank you, Mrs Choi! And you look gorgeous too!’ ‘Oh, thank you, dear! Lia chose this dress for me – it seems she has an eye for good dresses, doesn’t she? You all looked so lovely stood beside her in your beautiful dresses earlier.’ ‘Not as lovely as the bride herself, of course.’ ‘Of course, of course! She looks stunning. I feel like I’ve been on the verge of tears all day,’ Lia’s grandmother laughs, and the girl truly means it when she says, ‘me too.’

‘It is an emotional day indeed. I look forward to the day that you get married, y/n. I’ll be able to spend the day getting a little too drunk like your grandmother has today,’ Mrs Choi gossips, the two of them giggling together. ‘I look forward to that day too, Mrs Choi. Lia’s wedding has just made me so much more excited for my own. I can’t wait.’ ‘Well, I don’t think you’ll have to wait too long.’ ‘Um… I’m not so sure about that,’ the girl says, getting a suspicious look in response. ‘Don’t tell me you and Hyunjin have broken up.’ ‘We’ve never been together, which isn’t even the start of our problems. He’s… just an idiot.’ ‘All boys are idiots, y/n. The sooner you come to terms with it, the better.’ ‘He’s more of an idiot than the rest of them, Mrs Choi. He’s not even my boyfriend, and I’m just fed up of him,’ she vents, Lia’s grandmother raising an eyebrow at her.

‘Sweetheart, does somebody need to have a word with the little shit? Because if he’s going around behind your back, Mr Choi will s-’ ‘No, he’s not… going around behind my back. He just hasn’t got his life together and it’s starting to really affect our relationship, if I can even call it that.’ ‘Oh, dear. Maybe you’re better off without him.’ ‘I am better off without him.’ ‘Well, I’m glad you know it. The day you decide to actually do something about it, let me know. Lia’s got some single cousins an-’ ‘Thank you for the offer, Mrs Choi, but I don’t need you to matchmake for me.’ ‘You say that now, but just wait,’ Lia’s grandmother says with a mischievous grin, the girl rolling her eyes amusedly. ‘We’ll see.’ ‘We shall. Now you go back and join your friends, sweetheart. I’ll catch you on the dancefloor later,’ the old lady says with a little shake of her hips, the girl bursting into laughter as she heads out of the bathroom.

She checks Jisung’s location again, and he’s only a couple minutes away, so she heads back out to the front of the manor house, admiring the vast grounds with its high trees, vibrant flowers and clear lake as she waits for them to arrive. As soon as she sees the car, she heads towards the driveway, the doorman helping her down the steps again. The second the boys start getting out of the car, she begins fussing about them. They all look dishevelled, and she’d rather not know why.

‘Don’t any of you know how to answer your damn phones?’ Felix says with half-hearted annoyance, letting the girl tighten his tie around his neck. ‘Lia’s family were doing their speeches, and then everyone was coming around and greeting us, so we couldn’t exactly start talking to you idiots on the phone.’ ‘We’re not the idiots, y/n,’ Seungmin says drily, standing still to let her straighten the flower on his lapel. ‘I know,’ she says softly, not even wanting to look in the car and see him. ‘How is he anyway?’ ‘He’s at his peak, so he should be near sober in about an hour, hour and a half,’ Jisung says, rolling his eyes as the girl fixes his hair. ‘Right, fine. We’ll come get him in an hour then. Let’s go.’

‘Woah, woah, hold on. We can’t just leave him in the car by himself,’ Seungmin says, and she raises an eyebrow at him. ‘Why not? If he doesn’t wanna be left in a car by himself, he shouldn’t get high before our best friend’s wedding reception.’ ‘Yeah, I get that, but what if he does something stupid?’ Felix asks, the girl sighing. ‘What do you suggest then?’ ‘We’ll… take shifts watching him. I’ll go first,’ Jisung says, and she shakes her head with wide eyes. ‘Are you insane? You need to go in and say hi to everyone, and then send someone else out, one of the boys. I’ll keep an eye on him for now,’ she says reluctantly, the boys exchanging a glance.

‘If there’s anyone that shouldn’t do a shift, y/n, it’s you.’ ‘Yeah, I know that, Jisung, but no one else is here, so it’ll have to be me. Just go, stop wasting time. If anyone asks where he is, say he’s really ill and he’s sleeping it off in the car,’ she says quickly, taking the car keys from Seungmin and shooing them away, watching as they head up towards the house. ‘You look very hot, by the way! As always!’ Jisung shouts over his shoulder with a grin and she rolls her eyes at him, flattered but most certainly not in the mood. ‘Miss, would you like me to take the car around to the car park for you?’ the valet says, suddenly appearing by her side, and she jumps slightly in surprise. ‘Um, actually… my friend’s still in the car – he’s not very well so we’re just gonna get him to sleep it off and take turns keeping an eye on him. Is there anywhere we can park the car where it’s closer to the house?’ she asks, and the valet thinks for a moment. ‘There’s a little clearing over this side of the house, Miss. I can drive the car there if you’d like,’ he offers, the girl nodding and handing him the keys.

She follows behind the car, walking carefully along the gravel, and thanks the valet profusely as he hands the keys back to her. She wonders whether or not she should get into the car, but the decision is made for her when Hyunjin rolls down the back window, looking at her with an unreadable expression, the whites of his eyes discoloured with red and his bottom lip split. That explains why the boys were all looking dishevelled – they must have gotten into a… scuffle with him. She doesn’t say anything, looking away from him after a moment, and he chuckles. ‘Don’t I get a lecture?’ he asks amusedly, and she doesn’t even dignify his question with a response. ‘Silent treatment?’ ‘Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin.’ He just chuckles in response, and she wants nothing more than to land a heavy punch on his annoyingly perfect face. Instead, she leans against the car and looks down at her phone, scrolling unseeingly through the pictures that Jeongin took of the girls earlier.

‘Why are you always so high-strung, babe? Just relax. Take a xanny,’ he says, smile audible in his voice, and she looks at him with pure disgust. ‘It’s not funny. Not one thing about this is funny.’ ‘It’s a little bit funny.’ ‘You’re fucking sick in the head,’ she spits angrily, and he looks taken aback for a moment, quickly smoothing out his features into that arrogant expression he wears all the time. ‘Wow, that’s harsh. What have I done to you? It’s Lia’s wedding – she’s the only one that can be angry with me,’ he says amusedly, and she feels her eyes filling with tears again. ‘No, actually, I can be angry at you too. It’s fucking humiliating having everyone look at the empty seat next to mine, your empty seat, wondering where the fuck my dirtbag of a boyfriend is!’

‘I’m not your boyfriend,’ he says quickly, the girl letting out a humourless laugh, furious that that’s the thing he decides to address. ‘Yeah, you’ve made that pretty fucking obvious.’ ‘Listen, y/n, I don’t get why you’re so upset that the seat next to you is empty. Just… move seats,’ he grins, as though it’s simple, and she wants to rip his soft black hair out of his stupid head. ‘That’s not the problem, Hyunjin. It’s a lonely feeling.’ ‘You’re sat with your best friends. They’re keeping you company. How can you say you’re lonely?’ ‘They’re all sat next to their boyfriends and girlfriends. The only empty seat on the table, now that the other three are there, is the one next to mine. It’s lonely because they all have their significant others there.’ ‘Well, maybe you should get a boyfriend then. It’s not my fault that you’re single,’ he smiles serenely, and she feels her heart break.

He just called her single. They’ve been messing around since high school, and never have either of them said that they’re single. It was always ‘it’s complicated’, or ‘yeah, we’re kinda together’, or even ‘I’m seeing someone’. Never that they’re single. And he knows that. He’s saying it on purpose, to hurt her – she’s sure of it – and she’s never hated him more than in this moment. Her eyes shine with tears and he just looks back at her smugly with his slightly bloodshot eyes. His body is so accustomed to being high that it’s only ever his eyes that change. His body is never slow or sluggish, his words are never slurred, he never becomes uncoordinated or dizzy. The only sign of him being up in the clouds is his eyes being tinged with a little red.

Changbin appears, almost out of nowhere, and he looks between them with silent concern. ‘Does Lia know anything?’ Hyunjin asks, directing the question at both of them, but the girl ignores him. ‘No. She’s not stupid, though – she’ll realise soon enough,’ Changbin says with no warmth or kindness, and Hyunjin almost looks guilty when he asks, ‘Are you gonna cover for me?’ ‘We’re not gonna ruin her wedding day. So… yeah, we’ll have to cover for you,’ Changbin answers quietly, and the girl lets out a little humourless laugh. ‘You fucking owe us one, you piece of shit.’ ‘I owe you all more than just one. Especially you, y/n. I owe you hundreds. You never stop doing things for me,’ he says with a grin, as though it’s something to be proud of, and it makes her feel sick – it’s like he’s mocking her, making her seem like she’s just his little fan, who follows him around and does whatever he asks.

‘You head back inside, y/n. I’ll stay with this dickhead,’ Changbin says softly, putting a gentle hand on her arm, and she nods, not wasting another moment before heading towards the front of the manor. ‘Tell whoever’s on the next shift to bring me a bottle of vodka!’ Hyunjin calls after the girl and she bites down on her lip, to stop herself from both screaming at him and bursting into tears, feeling that Changbin’s ‘shut your fucking mouth before I shove my fist in it, you fucking moron’ is more than enough of a scolding.

When she re-enters the ballroom, the atmosphere has livened up considerably, the guests beginning to mix between tables, the music a little louder and the lights a little lower. She heads back to the table with her friends, Lia sat there, and she feels a little bit of panic when Lia spots her, the bride’s eyes narrowing. ‘What’s going on with him?’ Lia asks the second the other girl sits down, and she waits for her response with a raised eyebrow, the others on the table silent. ‘These guys already told you, right?’ ‘No, they didn’t. They’re saying that nothing’s wrong, which is bullshit. What’s going on, y/n?’ The girl decides she’s not gonna lie for him, she’s not gonna cover for him anymore, and she takes a deep sigh before saying, ‘he’s high, Lia. I’m sorry.’

Lia shakes her head disappointedly, sadness in her eyes, but there isn’t one hint of surprise in her reaction at all, which hurts. No one’s ever surprised by his behaviour. No one ever expects anything better of him. No one ever thinks he might make a change, but it’s probably because he never will.

‘I even told him he could get high after my family are all gone. They’re leaving at 9 and then we’ve got the place to ourselves all night. He just had to wait a few more hours,’ Lia says angrily, the others all shaking their heads in mutual disappointment. ‘Where is he? I wanna speak to him,’ she says abruptly, getting up from her seat without a second’s hesitation, and all her friends exchange alarmed glances. ‘Woah, Lia, hold on. Changbin’s with him, but you can’t go. It’s your wedding – you can’t just disappear,’ Yeji says, and Lia looks like she’s debating it with herself.

‘I… I wanna go and speak to him so bad. I don’t know whether I wanna knock him out or give him a hug, but I just need to see him,’ she says distractedly, as though her thoughts are too loud for her to focus on her words, and the others look at her with incredulity. ‘You wanna hug him?’ Jeongin asks disbelievingly, voicing all of their thoughts, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘You guys are all so quick to get angry at him. Do you never stop to wonder why he’s always high or drunk?’ she asks, sitting back down again, and everyone rolls their eyes.

‘Lia, it’s nice of you to be concerned about him, but I really wouldn’t try and think about him in a psychological way. He’s too far gone for our help now. I mean, it’s literally your wedding day, and he couldn’t stay sober,’ Ryujin says slowly, and Lia’s eyes widen. ‘But that’s what I’m trying to say! It’s my wedding day… and he couldn’t stay sober. Why has nobody stopped to think about that? What is hurting him so much that he couldn’t stay sober for his best friend’s wedding?’ Lia says slowly, her friends silent as her words sink in, and their anger is quickly replaced by panic and guilt.

‘y/n, has he… spoken to you at all? Mentioned anything to you? I know you two aren’t exactly… well, I don’t even know what you are, but he confides in you more than anyone else,’ Minho says gently, and the girl tries to quieten her concerns, thinking back to anything she should’ve noticed. ‘I can’t think of anything. I mean… there’s the usual stuff he’s talked about since high school – how he gets high to get rid of the pain – but nothing… out of the blue. Nothing bad enough to make him get high in the middle of Lia’s wedding,’ she says quietly, desperately wracking her brains but coming up empty-handed.

‘Maybe we should try and speak to him about it? Try and get him to talk?’ ‘He doesn’t talk, Lix. He won’t talk, to any of us. Except y/n,’ Chaeryeong says gently, all of them silent as they try to think. ‘Will you speak to him, y/n? I’m just worried now that Lia’s said that.’ ‘Trust me, Yuna, I’d love to speak to him, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything out of him. I was just with him and… he was horrible to me. Worse than he’s ever been before. I told him it isn’t a nice feeling to be sat in here with the seat next to me empty, and he said that maybe I should get a boyfriend, and it isn’t his fault that I’m single,’ she says quietly, all of them gasping in shock.

‘That’s it. I don’t give a fuck if he’s struggling or going through something difficult – that’s no excuse to be a dick.’ ‘Jisung, please, calm do-’ ‘No, Lia! How many nights has she stayed with him? How many episodes of his has she stuck by him through? How many times has she saved his damn life? Everything she’s ever done for him, and he thinks he can speak to her like that? It doesn’t run! I’m gonna kick his ass!’ Jisung says angrily, standing up, and all the others start panicking and stand up too, trying to get him to calm down. ‘Jisung, if you don’t sit your ass down and shut up, I’ll kick your ass,’ Lia hisses, all of them suddenly conscious of the stares they’re getting from the other wedding guests, and they all quickly sit back down.

‘You don’t get to choose how we deal with him. y/n does,’ Lia says calmly, all of their gazes turning to the girl in question, and she hesitates, taking a few moments to think about it. She wants nothing more than to see him get his due, for being such a dick to her for so long, but she loves him too much to abandon him, or hurt him, at a time when he could be hurting more than he ever has before.

‘We’ll carry on doing the shifts until he’s come down... and then, I’ll speak to him. Only when he’s sobered up. The next person to go out needs to take his drugs off him, if he has any – I don’t want him to take more while he’s coming down. I’ll bring him in after speaking to him,’ she says, telling them the best plan she can think of, and they all nod. ‘Okay, y/n. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll take the next shift,’ Chan says, the others volunteering themselves to look after him, and she feels herself zoning out, worrying about him again. ‘Hey, y/n. Stop stressing. We’re gonna look after him, okay? Team effort to… save Hyunjin,’ Felix says softly with a small smile, and the girl nods, convincing herself that they’ll be able to do it. That they can save Hyunjin.

‘My eyes must have been deceiving me all night, because I haven’t seen you step foot onto that dancefloor,’ Lia’s father says from where he’s appeared behind her seat, and she smiles up at him. ‘Hey, Mr Choi.’ ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he says, sliding into the empty seat beside her. ‘Why the sad face?’ ‘Oh, I’m not sad. I’m just… reminiscing. It feels like the end of an era,’ she says, glancing over at Lia and wondering when she grew up so much. Wondering when all of them grew up so much.

‘I’ve been thinking the same thing. I can’t help but wish the time hadn’t gone so quickly. I miss those old days. When you girls would play outside for hours each day, all summer long. It feels like just yesterday that me and the other parents waved you all goodbye on your first day of high school, and here we are. At Lia’s wedding,’ he says with a sad smile, both of them watching Lia dance with the biggest smile on her face, looking radiant in her beautiful dress. ‘It feels surreal.’ ‘I completely agree. These years have just flown by – it just feels wrong that you guys are getting married and settling down. Make sure you don’t get married for a long time, y/n. I’m not ready to see you get married yet,’ he says with a grin, the girl bursting into laughter.

‘I can’t wait too long. You’re starting to get old an-’ ‘You cheeky little-’ he exclaims, hitting the girl with a napkin. Lia’s old aunties shoot them dirty looks and they try to stifle their laughter, but it only makes everything funnier, the two of them giggling into their hands like little schoolkids. ‘You might be joking, but I’m afraid you’re right, y/n. We are getting old, so don’t wait too long. I think… in ten years should be fine,’ he says with a grin, her mouth falling open. ‘Ten years? I’ll be ancient by then!’ ‘Watch your mouth,’ he says warningly, an amused glint in his eyes.

‘If I’m being totally honest, I can see you getting married next. I think someone out there will have enough sense to put a ring on you soon,’ he says, trying to sound all mystical, but he makes it sound like a threat instead, and she can’t help but laugh. ‘No, I don’t think so. I feel like I’m destined to just be a bridesmaid for the rest of my life.’ ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous! You’ll find the right one. Maybe it’s that boyfriend of yours,’ he says tentatively, as though testing the waters, and when she remains silent, her smile slipping a little, he backtracks.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up.’ ‘No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It’s… silly.’ ‘I don’t think things are ever silly with you and that boy, y/n. You two seem to have problems that are more serious than any other couple I know. And you’re not even married!’ ‘We’re not even together at all, Mr Choi. He called me single today,’ she says with a sad smile, and his mouth falls open. ‘Where is he?’ he says, clenching his hands into fists menacingly, and she laughs, shaking her head. ‘No, no, it’s okay. I’ll get over it,’ she says, but he’s distracted, looking around the room.

‘Okay, seriously… where is he? I haven’t seen him all night, and I can’t see him now. And this is supposed to be his seat, right?’ he asks, obviously picking up on how the table settings in front of the seat are untouched, how he’s the first person to have sat in that seat all night, and she nods reluctantly, the man shaking his head. ‘Where is he, y/n?’ ‘He’s been an idiot, and… we’re dealing with it,’ she says vaguely, and he raises an eyebrow.

The kids have managed to hide Hyunjin’s addiction from all of their parents for years. The parents have their suspicions, of course, but it’s never been confirmed to them, because they’ve never seen him do drugs. They’ve seen him whilst he’s high, without even realising – he’s pretty much himself when he’s high, just a little hyper or chill – so he’s managed to get away with his addiction for years.

Before Mr Choi can reply, Seungmin’s voice comes from behind them. ‘y/n. You’re up,’ he says gravely, and she takes a deep breath. ‘He’s definitely okay for me to talk to him?’ she asks, Seungmin nodding. ‘I’m sorry to leave you, Mr Choi, but I gotta…’ ‘Don’t worry about it. You have my phone number so call me if something happens. Okay?’ he says, obviously wanting to intervene but not wanting to overstep, and she nods with a small smile.

The walk to the car feels like it stretches over a lifetime, her nerves growing and her legs feeling weaker with each step. It’s past sunset now, but there’s still the warm glow of a beautiful dusk over the manor grounds, the cooling air making her shiver. When she approaches Seungmin’s car, she sees that Hyunjin is sat on the boot, looking towards the lake with a blank face. She feels relief flood through her when he turns his gaze towards her and his eyes aren’t red anymore. This is him sober, or as sober as he’s been in a long time. Lia wasn’t exaggerating when she said that he’s always high or drunk – he even showed up to the ceremony this morning with the faint scent of vodka on his lips.

Neither of them say anything as she joins him, settling beside him on the boot, making sure her dress isn’t touching the floor. ‘That dress really suits you. You look… amazing,’ he murmurs quietly, looking back at the lake. ‘Thanks. And you look handsome in your suit,’ she says softly, feeling her heart flutter a little when his lips quirk up at the corners and he turns his head away with embarrassment.

He’s dressed in a standard black tux with a white shirt underneath it, but the outfit’s simplicity doesn’t stop it from accentuating his lean and slim figure nicely, the colour setting off his honey skin. His soft black hair falls over his forehead into his eyes, and silver rings adorn his long fingers. The tie hanging from his neck is the same blue as her dress, and it reminds her of when they matched his tie and her dress at high school prom all those years ago, the memory bringing a fond smile to her face.

‘Thanks,’ he says quietly, and they fall back into silence. A sudden gust of wind blows, carrying the lilt of faint birdsong, and the trees lean from its force, their leaves brushing against each other. She shivers, bringing her arms around herself, hands clutching onto her own shoulders, and he instantly begins to shrug off his jacket, handing it to her without looking in her direction. She thanks him softly, taking the jacket and pulling it around herself, feeling the echo of his body warmth in its inner lining. He rarely wears any aftershave or cologne – his natural scent is more than enough to make him smell good – but the scent of the Dior spray she bought him for his last birthday fills her senses.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says suddenly, eyes still on the lake, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘It’s not me you need to apologise to. It’s not my wedding – it’s Lia’s,’ she says gently, no anger in her voice at all. She can’t be angry at him when he’s all subdued like this. ‘I know, and I owe Lia an apology too. But… I’ve owed you an apology for a long time, y/n. For so many things.’ She doesn’t say anything, not quite sure what to say, and he takes her silence as a sign to continue, neither of them looking at each other.

‘I… I’m sorry I said to you that you should get a boyfriend. I shouldn’t have called you single – it was nasty, and it wasn’t true. I don’t really know what we are, but we are something,’ he says in a small voice, sounding earnest, and she just sighs. ‘Then… why did you say it? Why did you… want to be nasty to me?’ she asks shakily, tears welling up in her eyes again, and he’s completely silent, showing no sign of answering her question.

‘I don’t understand. Every time you do these things to me, all I can think is that I just don’t understand. I deserve better than you – that’s what you say – but no matter what you do, I still want you, and I don’t understand that either. Why do I keep coming back to you when you treat me like shit? I’m doing it right now. Look how you spoke to me earlier, and I’m sat out here with you instead of being with Lia on her wedding day. Why do I do this? And why do you do this to yourself? You run from the person you need the most. No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t know why you do it. But it has to stop, Hyunjin. It has to stop,’ she says tearily, sobs breaking up her words, and he feels his heart breaking as he listens to her.

He wordlessly moves closer to her, pulling her into his arms, and she rests her head on his chest, trying her best to calm herself down as he comforts her, running his hand over her hair soothingly. ‘I was good this morning. Yeah, I took a couple shots before I left the house, but they were just to give me energy after the pills I took last night. But I was good, I was happy,’ he begins, voice quiet, and she feels a glimmer of hope at the prospect that he’s finally gonna open up to her, tell her something of substance rather than the usually vague things he tells her (she wanted to slam her head into the wall that time he spent ages building up to a big confession for it to be ‘I stay high because I don’t like being sober’).

‘And then, after the ceremony, while you guys were taking bridesmaids pictures, I overheard your parents talking to Ryujin’s parents. They were talking about how happy they are for Lia, how beautiful she looks, and then the conversation changed to you,’ he continues, tears appearing in his eyes and the girl waits nervously for the rest of the story.

He relives the moment as he tells her about it. How he heard her name come up in the conversation, his heart skipping a beat just at the mention of her, and he started listening a little more eagerly. How he couldn’t help the smile on his face when they spoke about how beautiful she’ll look on her wedding day. How he felt like he’d had his heart ripped out when her father mentioned his worries about who his daughter will marry, and how he hopes it won’t be her ‘no-good deadbeat failure of a boyfriend’ because he feels – no, he knows – that ending up with Hyunjin will mean she’ll end up heartbroken.

She bursts into tears as soon as he finishes telling her, and he’s so endeared by her reaction that he can’t help but chuckle, holding her just a little closer as the tears spill down his face. ‘Hyunjin, why didn’t you just tell me?’ she asks quietly once the sobs have stopped forcing their way up her throat. She sits back up, their shoulders touching, and he intertwines his hand with hers, a sad smile on his face. ‘What was I supposed to say? ‘I overheard your dad talking about how much he hates me and my first good mood this entire year is ruined because of it’? That’s not exactly a great conversation to have at your best friend’s wedding.’ ‘Yeah, but it’s a better conversation to have than the one we’re having right now,’ she points out, and he chuckles, nodding in agreement.

‘I know this probably won’t change anything, but you should know that my dad’s opinion on you doesn’t matter to me-’ ‘But, y/n, it’s true. He’s right. I am a no-good deadbeat failure. My life is meaningless. I don’t bring anything to the table. I don’t contribute anything positive to your life, to anyone’s life. You probably would end up heartbroken if you married me. Which is why you can’t marry me. You can’t be with me, y/n. I know I say this all the time, but you do deserve better than someone like me. I wish I was more of a man, but I’m not. All I do is neglect you, and put myself above you,’ he says softly, and she just stares at him with such an intense mix of emotions – anger, sorrow, guilt, hurt, confusion, longing – that she doesn’t even know what to say.

‘But I love you,’ she whispers eventually, and he brushes back her hair with an affectionate smile. ‘And I love you too. More than I have ever loved anything. More than anyone has ever loved anything. You are my entire life, y/n. And that’s the problem. My life is you, drugs and alcohol. You have so much more in your life – you have such a potential for success – but being with me will only drag you down. It’s what I’m already doing to you – slowly dragging you down.’ ‘But Hyunjin, you have such a potential for success too! You could have so much fulfilment in your life. You could be so much more.’ ‘But I’m not, and I don’t think I ever will be. I don’t think I’ll ever get sober,’ he whispers hesitantly, fear in his eyes, and it’s so clear to her in that moment that he hates this. The thought of living like this for the rest of his life scares him, but he feels like there’s nothing he can do to change that.

She’s silent for a moment, debating whether or not she should say what she wants to say, but she throws caution to wind and decides to contradict everything she and their friends have been saying to him for years. ‘You don’t have to get sober,’ she says slowly, his eyes widening. ‘What?’ ‘I know I’ve been saying that you need to get sober, but I’ve been thinking about it, and… it’s like weight-loss,’ she says, the boy laughing. ‘Getting sober is like weight-loss?’ ‘Yeah! Think about it; if you go from eating junk food every day and never exercising, to never eating any junk food and working out for three hours every day, it’s just not gonna work. You have to do it slowly, you know? Make lifestyle changes instead. Slowly incorporate exercise into your daily routine. Learn healthier recipes and make better choices with food that you buy.’

He processes her words, holding back laughter at her metaphor, and asks, ‘So you’re saying… I need to just slowly start taking less drugs?’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying! We shouldn’t expect you to get sober overnight – it probably won’t work if we try to do it like that. But if you just start taking less and less, then it’ll be an easier process. And I don’t even expect you to get completely sober. A couple xans or a joint at a party, or even a couple lines wouldn’t kill you. That’s what the other boys do. It’s about moderation. It’s about not getting high again as soon as you feel yourself coming down,’ she says pointedly, and he lets out a sigh.

‘It sounds like a great idea, y/n, but… the drugs keep me alive. They might be slowly killing me, but they’re also keeping me alive. As soon as I feel myself coming down, it all comes back. The hurt, the trauma, the self-hatred, the loneliness and the crippling pain of my life. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but there’s something very wrong with me, because when I’m sober, I want to die. When I’m sober, I don’t have any reasons to live,’ he confides in a gentle voice, holding her hand tight, and her heart sinks at his admission. ‘Well… maybe I could give you some?’ she whispers, his lips curling up into a small smile, and he puts an arm around her, pulling her close and pressing his lips to her temple. ‘Maybe you could, angel. I should at least let you try. But I can’t promise it’ll work,’ he murmurs against her skin, and she feels her heart lift with hope. This is more than he’s ever let her try before.

‘Okay. We’ll start with trying to… fix you tomorrow,’ she says, and his eyes widen. ‘Tomorrow?’ ‘Yes, tomorrow. If we keep putting it off, we’ll never get around to it. Tonight, you can go inside, say hi to everyone and apologise for your… antics, and when all of Lia’s family have left, you can get high with the boys. Then, after we see Lia off on her honeymoon, we’re starting with… ‘Operation: Help Hyunjin’. Okay?’ she asks, and he nods with a small smile. ‘Okay.’ ‘Promise me you’ll try. If I show up to your house in the morning and you’re not there, like all those other times, I’m gonna be really upset. I love you, but I can’t put up with you running from me for much longer. So I want you to actually try this time.’

‘I promise I won’t run from you. And I promise I’ll try, for you.’ ‘No. It’s not for me – it’s for you. It’s for your happiness, your future. The motivation for this needs to be you. You owe it to yourself to live a better life. Nobody else but you.’ ‘Okay. I’ll promise I’ll try. For me,’ he smiles, tilting her head up to press a gentle kiss to her lips, making her heart flutter. He chuckles at the dazed look on her face, jumping down from the boot of the car. He puts two big hands on her waist and helps to lift her down, leading her back up to the wedding.

‘You look so cute in my jacket,’ he chuckles, and she instantly begins taking it off. ‘No, angel, it’s cold!’ ‘My dress is so pretty, though. I don’t wanna cover it up. And we’re going inside now anyway,’ she says, handing him his jacket back, and he pulls it on as his eyes trail up and down her body. ‘I guess the dress is pretty. Not as pretty as you, though,’ he murmurs, and she rolls her eyes, unable to hold back a giggle. ‘That was a terrible line.’ ‘Who says it was a line? The only lines I do are coke.’ ‘…Not funny, Jin.’ ‘Sorry.’

They walk towards the front door of the manor holding hands, their fingers interlaced, and Hyunjin spots a little flower bush a few feet away. ‘Hold on,’ he says, letting go of her hand and picking one of the flowers. They’re blush pink, the same colour as the corsage he bought her from prom, and he holds it up to her with a grin, a small smile on her face as he lifts up her hair to tuck it behind her ear. It might not match the dress, but he thinks she looks beautiful, and she’s so touched that he remembers such a small detail from so long ago. Pink peonies have been her favourite flowers since he bought her that corsage, because every time she sees one, she thinks of him.

‘You look perfect,’ he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers again, and she sighs gently into the kiss, his lips curling into a smirk as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. ‘Wanna come back to mine tonight?’ he asks once they break apart, and she rolls her eyes. ‘Really?’ ‘Yes. Your dad doesn’t want us to get married? Cool. He never said anything about us having a kid,’ he grins, and she laughs. ‘Very funny.’ ‘I’m kinda not kidding,’ he says with bright eyes, and her mouth falls open. ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yeah. I’ve always wanted a kid with you. They’ll be the most amazing kid on earth,’ he grins, the girl still not sure whether he’s joking or not, and she’s silent for a long few moments. ‘Fine, I’ll make you a deal. You get to some form of sobriety, and then I’ll get pregnant. How does that sound?’ she asks, and he lets out a whoop of joy, sweeping her up into his arms and spinning her, their laughter carrying in the wind. ‘Sounds perfect to me, y/n.’

The bridal march begins suddenly, the guests all falling quiet, and her bridesmaids make their way in one by one. Yeji, Lia, Ryujin, Chaeryeong and Yuna all have genuinely happy smiles on their faces, wearing matching dresses the same colour as the blush pink peony bouquets that they all hold, bouquets designed by the bride herself. The flowers are a main point of decoration – no matter where you look in the room, you’ll see a pink peony within your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin feels anticipation building inside him, unable to keep the smile off his face when his son enters after the bridesmaids, throwing pink flower petals with a mischievous smile on his face. You’d think he’d resemble Hyunjin, and he does in a way, with his soft fluffy hair and handsome good looks, but when Hyunjin looks at him, all he can see is her. Their son got her beautiful eyes, her beautiful smile, her beautiful heart, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

She enters after their son, the entire room gasping at how beautiful she looks. Hyunjin feels his eyes fill with tears, not at her perfect dress or perfect hair and makeup, but her perfect smile, complete and utter happiness on her face. He desperately tries to blink back the tears, eyes flitting to her father beside her, their arms linked together. He looks a lot older than Hyunjin remembers, but looking around, he realises they all look a lot older than he remembers. It’s been a long and difficult few years for all of them, her most of all.

With each step she takes, he feels himself getting more and more emotional, in disbelief at how perfect she looks, how happy she looks. She reaches the end of the aisle and joins her fiancé at the altar, handing her bouquet to her bridesmaids and taking Jisung’s hands into her own, the boy smiling unbelievably widely. He looks like the happiest man in the world.

Hyunjin watches, from right behind Jisung, as the love of his life marries his best friend, the smiles not leaving their faces for a single moment. Despite the hurt, the jealousy, the longing he feels for her, he also feels happy for her, and grateful towards Jisung. Grateful to him for being the boyfriend that Hyunjin could never be, and being the father that Hyunjin could never be. And as they kiss, sealing their promise of love, and Hyunjin’s son runs up to his mother and the man that he thinks is his father, the three of them making the happiest family on earth, Hyunjin feels paralysing regret fill him.

Regret about the drugs. Regret about the alcohol. Regret that he couldn’t prove anyone wrong. Regret about the fact that he hurt her, and ran from her, when she’s the one that he needs the most, the one he’s always needed the most. Regret that he couldn’t be more of a man. Regret that he couldn’t get sober, not for her, or their son, or even for himself.

Once the ceremony’s over, and the happy couple are taking their photos in the gardens, the guests watching on with affectionate smiles, Hyunjin’s friends gather around him, giving him brief hugs or squeezing his hand comfortingly, and he’s not sure whether it’s making him feel better or worse. The photographer calls for a picture of the happy couple with the best man, and his eyes meet with hers, a small smile on her face as he heads towards the two of them.

‘Your flower’s about to fall off,’ Jisung points out when Hyunjin joins them, and without a moment of hesitation, she lifts her hands to his lapel to fix it. ‘It’s like prom all over again – me fucking up my flower, and you spending most of the night fixing it,’ Hyunjin jokes, the girl laughing while she re-pins his pink peony boutonniere, and Jisung feels a pang of pain in his heart as he watches them. They look like they should be the bride and groom – the way she fixes his flower with the softest hands and the utmost care, the way he gazes at her with nothing but love in his eyes, the two of them laughing quietly – and even though Jisung understood his reference, he still feels left out, as though he’s the third wheel intruding on an inside joke.

They get into position for the photo, Jisung on her right and Hyunjin on her left, both of them with an arm around the bride, and she holds her bouquet, the three of them smiling in the sunlight as though they’re the happiest people in the world. Hyunjin looks like the proud best friend, successfully hiding his jealousy of Jisung and his love for her. Jisung looks like the elated groom, successfully hiding his jealousy of Hyunjin and his longing to feel her love the way his best friend always has and always will. And she looks like the picture of the bride glowing with happiness, successfully hiding her yearning for the reversal of the boys’ roles, her desire for Jisung to be the proud best friend and Hyunjin to be the elated groom. The three of them are so tragic and they don’t even know it, don’t even know the truth about each other’s desires.

Their son comes running over, wanting to get into the picture, and it’s like he knows the truth because he decides to stand between the bride and the best man rather than the bride and the groom. She feels panic fill her, not sure whether or not she should move her son, but the photographer begins taking pictures before any of them can act.

It’s almost as though the photographer’s worked them out, like he can see right through the three of them and their lies, because he suggests taking photos of the best man and the happy couple’s son, the three of them exchanging a glance before the bride and groom move away. Hyunjin lifts his son into his arms, the boy completely oblivious to Hyunjin’s inner turmoil, and he just wraps his arms around the man that he knows as his uncle, smiling widely for the camera.

The bride watches them from behind the photographer, and it’s only when Jisung walks away wordlessly that she registers the loving smile on her face which falters quickly. ‘y/n,’ the girl hears, and she tears her eyes away from Jisung’s retreating back, turning to look at Hyunjin’s mother, and the guilt fades away into excitement. ‘Mrs Hwang! Thank you so much for coming!’ the bride exclaims, throwing her arms around the woman she holds dear in her heart. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. You look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you,’ she says, holding the girl tight, and once they break apart, their eyes both wander to Hyunjin and his son, posing for pictures.

‘I’ve just noticed, y/n, how much your son looks like my son,’ Mrs Hwang murmurs, the bride silent for a moment as she watches her boys laugh together, the photographer capturing the moment. ‘I personally think he gets his looks from me. His personality is all Hyunjin, though,’ she says mildly, Mrs Hwang giving the girl a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really thought he’d get his act together.’ ‘So did I, Mrs Hwang. But it’s okay. Jisung makes me happy.’ ‘I’m glad. You deserve to be happy,’ she says wistfully, the two of them still watching their boys laughing together. ‘Come and visit me soon, y/n. And bring your son. I’d quite like to meet him again, knowing what I know,’ Mrs Hwang says quietly, the bride nodding with a smile, holding the tears back.

Hyunjin notices his mother walking away from the bride, and he feels hope in his heart when his eyes lock with those of the girl that he loves, and he sees love reflected back at him, a sad smile on her face. Does she still love him? Is she wishing that she’d married him instead of his best friend? Is she wondering what her life would be like if they were the newly-weds, and their son knew the truth about his father?

But the moment is fleeting, because the sadness disappears from her smile, making him question whether it was even there in the first place, and her loving eyes are on her son instead, not Hyunjin. And suddenly, the realisation hits him. The realisation that she doesn’t love him. That she loves Jisung. And he can never call her his again. And in the few moments before his world comes crashing down, he feels the familiar itch in his fingers, the desperation to reach into his pocket and pull out the little plastic packet, full of the stuff that pushes his pain away.

So he holds it together for the last few photos before heading off towards his car with the tears in his eyes blurring the path in front of him, his absence almost entirely unnoticed in all the excitement. But she watches him with their son in her arms, feeling the crack in her heart grow with each step he takes, wishing with all her might that she could go running after him, get into his car with him so he can drive the three of them away to their own little world of happiness. And Jisung watches her, the longing and love in her eyes so clear as she watches his best friend, and he knows in that moment that his hopes that she’ll one day love him as much as she loves Hyunjin are delusional, that he’s signed his life over to being second best in the eyes of the person he loves more than anyone in the world.

Maybe the three of them are truly happy in another world, but certainly not in this one.