#collapses in bed after delayed flights

[llondonfog]

🦇

[asterlark]

today has been like. 2 weeks' worth of days.

[yeeterthek33per]

Sparklers (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)

A/n Requested. Honestly this one isn't my best work but I just wanted it to be done, so it's not as substantial but I promise I did my best to save it from the clutches of undone WIPs.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, Kyra being a pest.

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

When Kyra had first left for Sweden, she'd been adamant that she couldn't leave you behind.

But after many tears, hugs, kisses and persuasion in the form of future travel plans, she left for Hammarby IF, while you stayed with the Melbourne Victory.

Thus, nearly two years later, just a month before the World Cup and one week before the start of camp, a very tired and whiny girlfriend of yours sits on facetime with you, begging you to let her come over to Australia early to spend time with you.

"Babe, c'mon, I'd only be missing one match anyway."

And thus, you subsequently scolding the twenty-one year old.

"Kyra, no. No way. Seriously, play your last match, if I remember rightly, Hammarby haven't offered you a new contract right?"

She huffs, silently fidgeting with her fingers and not making eye contact with you through the camera.

"You need to play the last match, Ky. Be professional about it, please, if not for the club, for me? I want you to be able to get opportunities over there. Take it seriously and you can come see me the moment your last match is over."

She groans, letting her head hit the bed from where she'd been laying stomach down with her phone in front of her.

"Promise me, Ky. Play out the rest of the season. Even if you don't get the league, you've still got a trophy under your belt there, baby."

"Alright."

The look in her eyes as she turns her head away from the camera makes you sigh softly.

"Kyra, promise me you'll stay. I miss you more than anything, but your career comes first. Promise me."

She mumbles back, finally.

"I promise, baby, I promise I'll stay."

You nod in satisfaction, giving the girl a small smile and pressing a kiss to the tips of your fingers before holding them up to your phone as she does the same.

"Goodnight, baby."

"G'night, Ky."

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

So she does stay.

She plays her heart out in her last match, taking the draw with Piteå before finally getting on her flight to Australia.

She's exhausted from the match, and nearly forgoes showering and changing to switch tickets to an earlier flight.

Instead, she heeds your warnings of not kissing her should she decide to show up at the training centre without at least taking care of herself first.

She's already got her bags packed and ready in her rental to fly to Australia, and just about drags them to the match with her but forgoes it.

The poor aussie just needs to see her girlfriend. To collapse into a warm, fluffy pile of cuddles and-

"Flight 157 to Sydney, Australia, Now boarding."

She sighs and hopes the flight boards quickly, eager to see you.

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

Everyone was told similar times to be at the centre by, giving them a roughly six hour window to arrive in, given any delays in flights, although that doesn't seem enough knowing international boarding mid year can be dicey.

So you've taken the initiative to be in Brisbane early to avoid the traffic of the day.

It's ripe time at six-thirty in the morning, meaning you're far earlier than all of your teammates, even the one's closer to Brisbane than you are, and thus you have plenty of time to kill and nap in the lobby waiting for your teammates to start arriving at around ten.

Of course, you're startled awake by a slap to the stomach.

Taking a precursory glance at the clock on the wall above the receptionists desk, it's about three and a half hours later.

It's Steph and Caitlin, both of them sporting tired smirks at you.

"Well hello miss."

You just about jump into the arms of your vice-captain, having missed seeing the woman at the last camp due to injury, thus you haven't seen the woman since the games in April against Scotland and England.

"Steph!"

She chuckles, giving you a tight squeeze.

She had taken you under her wing the moment you'd stepped into your first national team camp just four years ago, not long after the World Cup but right before the Covid Pandemic.

She'd been the one to stick with you over facetime while you navigated the league in Australia, and of course, once a sense of normalcy returned and after the Olympic games in Tokyo.

You were often found in her room with her even though you'd all been given the privileges of single rooms.

Now, you tended to spend more time with Kyra, but, if your teammates needed you, it was always one of the two of them that you'd be found with.

"What, and I'm chopped liver, am I?"

You poke your tongue out at the striker, burying yourself back into Steph's arms.

"No, I'm just the favourite."

"Please, you and I both know you're no longer the favourite."

"Shhhh, let me have this, she isn't here yet."

Giggling, you nudge the defender and separate from her.

"I'm in love with the girl, but you're more tolerable, some days."

"Ayy, that's my girl."

She ruffles your sleep mussed hair.

"Hey! Hands off the goods, Catley."

You swat at the older woman, who dodges the tired attempt.

"Yeah, stop bullying my girlfriend, Catley."

Your head shoots up from it's laid back position on the back of the couch to look at the newly appeared brunette, standing across the lobby from you.

"Ky, get that cute butt over here, right now."

At your demand, she drops her stuff and runs over in two seconds flat, nearly tackling you back onto the seating, arms wrapped tightly around your form, nose buried in your neck.

Staying for a moment to just breathe each other in, your hands rub circles into the woman's back, your face buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, wincing at the smell of airplane on her.

She pouts when you pull away with a terribly hidden grimace.

"Baby, I love you, but you need a shower."

A soft whine from the midfielder makes you raise a brow at her.

"I just got in, can you blame me?"

There's a teasing smile on your lips as you wrap your arms around her waist.

"Obviously, you were supposed to shower before coming here."

Kyra huffs at that, crossing her arms.

"Love you."

She grumbles in response.

You nudge her, pouting.

"Love you."

Still no response.

You grab her face, turning her head back towards you with a small frown.

"I love you."

When she doesn't respond again, you start peppering her face with kisses and she gives in, grinning at you.

"Alright! Alright! Love you, too."

Satisfied, you give her a small peck, to which she chases you up for a second, a third and then someone clearing their throat beside you interrupts her from a fourth.

"Alright, you two, stop being gross."

It's a grunt from the striker on your left, which earns her a slap to the shoulder.

"Leave them be, Caitlin."

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

It's your final day off before the full commitment to the World Cup preparations takes precedence over your time in Australia, thus you want to do as much as you can with your girlfriend before your time together, alone, gets limited.

You'd had a few days off to explore the city, but nothing really concrete as you and Kyra had just wandered around the area where the hotel is.

This time, you wanted to plan something for the midfielder, something to last you both the couple weeks of the World Cup, hoping it would tide you both over, knowing it'd be torture not spending time together.

At least when she was in Sweden, you had space to yourselves over facetime.

World Cups are chaotic, and allow little to no time to yourselves, as you've so discovered and been told by the older girls on the team.

So, here you are, calling various different restaurants for reservations tonight, with, unfortunately, no luck.

Instead, managing to sneak away from the girl for an hour or so, you run down to the grocery store, pick up several of her favourite snacks, drinks, and a small surprise that you think she'll love and then rush back to the hotel, getting ready for a night out in one of the cities parks.

She looks at you suspicious when you drag her down, scraggily dressed in hoodies and sweats, to a taxi rather insistently, dragging a completely full duffle bag behind you.

Not that you blame her.

You would be sussed out, too, if she decided to randomly drag you out to a taxi at six on a Saturday night, carrying a nearly ripping at the seams, black duffle bag.

"Sooooo... Where are we goin', babe?"

"You'll see."

You let out a little laugh at the small pout she has on her face, pecking her sweetly on the lips in exchange for the small smile she relents at the sound of your giggle.

When you finally pull up at the park, you're all but dragging the woman across the green grass and to the edge of the waterline where you drop the blanket you'd been carrying down onto the somewhat flat grassed area.

It's lit well enough that when the sun starts to set, it's not ridiculously dark, so you take a little comfort knowing it's not entirely dangerous out, plus the added comfort of the occasional family or couple wandering by on the path just to the left of you by ten feet or so.

You nudge her to sit down next to you, hand settling in hers.

"I wanted us to have a nice little sit down together to just relax and talk and eat and just be stress free for a little while. Just to breathe for the night. Together. It's about to be even more hectic and I've missed you."

You pout softly, leaning into her a little.

She leans over, kissing you fully, hand on your face tugging you in closer.

You're both a little breathless when she let's your face go again.

"I love you, so fucking much."

Giggling, you kiss her once more.

"I love you, too."

Finally, you open up the bag and dump out the contents onto her lap, knowing you're about to have a very excited sugar hyped puppy on your hands after this.

Her eyes sparkle up at you, the grin on her face causing her eyes to crease at the corners.

"Just wait 'til you see what else is in there."

Eyes darting around the small pile, she digs through it to find a pair of packets of sparklers and a small lighter.

She feels giddy, and looks the part, too, her immediate giggle and hug crushing you making your heart just about melt through your body entirely.

It's adorable.

It's cute.

It's oh so Kyra and you feel your heart bursting at the thought that you get to call her yours.

You're dragged out of your train of thought by said woman dragging you to your feet, lighting a sparkler and handing it to you, running around you, both of your giggles and the small handheld fireworks lighting up the night sky and the river before you.

No matter where you are, how far apart they keep you, Kyra will always be your one, you realise.

It's a small, heartbeat skipping thought, but it makes you smile harder and enjoy the moment all the more while you can.

The sparkler she's holding blasts out tiny stars of combusting magnesium, being spread out harmlessly in the air and onto the grass as she runs circles around you.

It goes out within a minute or so, and she's looking over at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Babe, can you get another one out, pretty please? I wanna attack those cheezels soon."

You chuckle, obliging with her demands, a small kiss to your lips as thanks.

She may be a child at heart still, but she's yours.

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

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 17

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Mentioned character death

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos   @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions

Masterlist

A/N: Let's pretend like this isn't a million months late and let's pretend I didn't suddenly forget how to write during my time away.

Day 201

Fifteen days. They were getting fifteen whole days home. They’d just landed in North Carolina and from there, each soldier would head their separate ways. Unfortunately, Leah’s flight to Denver wasn’t until the next day. She would have driven home if the drive wasn’t actually longer than simply waiting sixteen hours for her flight.

She’d planned on spending the night waiting around at the airport but a few men who were in the same situation as her had found a motel for the night and she had to admit that having a place to shower was a big enough appeal to cancel out sleeping in a cramped room with three of the men.

Had their overseas flight not been delayed, Sy would have driven straight down to see his folks. As it was, it was already getting late and he didn’t want to make the five hour trip in the dark. Besides, no one would be awake if he showed up after midnight.

After taking a cab to retrieve his truck where he’d placed it in storage, Sy made his way back to the motel. The men had already made themselves at home and were sharing a few beers on the plastic chairs that surrounded the empty pool.

“How can I help you, dear?” the woman behind the desk greeted him.

“I’d appreciate a room for the night, if ya have one. Just one bed’ll do.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, we’re full up. I assumed you were with all the other boys.”

“Well, ma’am, I am. I just hadn’t planned on stayin’ in town tonight so none of them saved a bed for me.”

The woman looked through the hand written registry again but Sy already knew the answer wouldn’t change from the empty peg board behind her.

“I wish I could help you out but a lovely young woman just checked out the last room. We normally have a four person per room policy but I’ll look the other way if you want to squeeze in with any of your fellow soldiers. The least I can do is make sure the men who serve our country get a roof over their heads when they are back home.”

Sy tipped his head in thanks and walked out of the little office. He pulled the cap down over his head though it didn’t do much to protect him from the light of the setting sun.

It looked like he was going to have to ask one of the boys for a favor. The question was, who did he want to bunk with for the night? On the flight over he’d heard them talking about hitting the bars tonight. Sleeping on the floor might land him in a splash zone if he didn’t choose wisely. He didn’t trust any of them to drink in moderation. Not after that last op.

Garrett had flatlined on the chopper while being transported. They somehow got him back but when they finally got him into surgery, it was already too late. Of the other two that were evac’d, one was expected to make a full recovery and the other would most likely walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

Then there was LT. He had a half dozen broken ribs, a concussion and a collapsed lung but he was also expected to make a full recovery. His injuries were mild all things considered and Sy had almost left him there to die.

“I thought you’d be halfway home by now,” a sweet voice spoke from behind him.

Sy was shocked when he turned to find Leah, who had apparently showered and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt she’d tied into a knot at her hip. Her hair was still damp but she’d left it loose around her shoulders to air dry. It was his first time seeing her out of uniform and her casual outfit might as well have been expensive lingerie if his dick’s reaction was any indication.

“Didn’t want to drive in the dark. Starting to regret it though. They’re full up so I either bum a spot on someone’s floor for the night or I call around until I find a place with a vacancy.”

Leah made a face like she understood how unappealing both of those options were.

“Well… I’ve got a king bed all to myself.”

Sy swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Was that an invitation or was she just stating a fact? Not that Leah was the kind of person to add salt to a wound but surely she wasn’t implying what he annoyingly hoped she was implying.

Leah pulled on an old USMC crew neck, causing her shirt to lift up and expose the skin of her stomach. The sweatshirt was well worn and the tip of the sleeves were frayed where she rolled them up. The state of the fabric made Sy believe that the shirt had most likely belonged to her father and he decided to forgive the insult of wearing something meant for a jarhead.

“I was going to pick up some snacks and juice from around the corner since I hadn’t planned on going out. I think there was a liquor store too.” Leah reached into the pocket on the side of her leggings and handed a small key ring to Sy. “How does pizza, beer and half a king bed sound?”

It sounded like perfect bliss and asking for trouble all wrapped into one.

Sy took the key, seeing a small number twenty etched into the plastic. He looked back at the motel, studying the numbers on the doors.

“It’s the room above the office. The stairs that lead to the door are on the side since it’s a separate structure from the rest of the rooms.”

That was good. If Sy was lucky, no one would notice that he was sharing Leah’s room.

And no one would hear her scream his name if he fucked her into the mattress.

Shit. Not a good train of thought if he wanted to make it through the night in the same bed as Leah. 

“I’ll order while you’re gone. Unless you want me to drive?”

She shook her head, her dark brown locks moving in the breeze.

“I need to stretch my legs after that flight. I’ll be back in forty-five, maybe an hour tops.”

With that, Leah was off. Sy hurried to his truck for his duffle then up the steps to the room. The first thing he needed was to clean the twenty-some-odd layers of dust and dirt off his body. After placing a quick order with a local pizzeria he found in the phonebook, he stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower.

The bathroom was still humid from when Leah had been in there earlier so he didn’t shut the door all the way. The fan was on but Sy was pretty sure it’s only function was to make noise.

Thirty minutes and half a tiny bar of soap later, Sy deemed himself as clean as he was going to get and switched off the now tepid water.

He was in the process of drying himself off when the hotel room door opened and shut with a slam. He hadn’t left it unlocked, he hadn’t left any door unlocked since he left his parents’ house at eighteen which meant Leah was back and she’d let herself in with a second key.

Scrambling to cover himself up, Sy realized he hadn’t taken his clean clothes out of his pack. He wrapped the towel around his waist but it was too short to stay put on its own, forcing him to hold the ends together. There was no way he could walk out like that. 

“Coleman?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.”

“Would ya mind bringin’ me my bag?”

At the same moment a knock sounded from the door.

“Fuck. That’ll be the food.”

Leah came into view through the crack in the door, setting Sy’s bag by the ground.

“It’s fine, I’ll get it.”

“No, you paid for drinks, I’ll get the food, just let me find my wallet.”

Another, more insistent, knock came from the door and Leah ran over to open it, exchanging a short greeting with the delivery man.

Sy crouched by his bag, pulling the door open another few inches as he rustled through the pockets. He was getting nowhere with one hand, eventually pinching the thin cotton of the towel in the crease of his hip to free up his left hand.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbled when his hand wrapped around the worn leather of his bill fold. He pulled out three bills, holding them up for Leah to take.

Leah made a choked sound when she caught a glimpse of Sy’s body only shielded by a barely there towel. She snatched the money from his hands with a mumbled thanks before averting her eyes and running back to the door.

Sy dressed in thirty seconds flat, exiting the bathroom right as Leah opened a bottle of rum and poured a generous amount in one of those individually packaged plastic cups that were as small as the soap. She lifted the drink to her lips, downing the whole thing in one go before filling it again.

“What are we drinkin’?” he asked as he came to stand a little too close to Leah.

“Beer or rum.” She cleared her throat, putting some distance between them as she opened the pizza boxes. “What are we eating?”

“Meat or meat.”

He really hoped she didn’t have anything against pepperoni, sausage or bacon because he had gotten one deluxe and one four meat pizza. When ordering, he hadn’t considered that she might follow a specific diet when was home.

His worries were abated when Leah opened both boxes on the dresser, dexterously swapping half of the deluxe pizza for half of the all meat one before closing the box again and taking the other over to the bed. The room didn’t have a table or chairs so it was as good a spot as any to sit and eat.

Sy took over making Leah’s rum and coke, which she’d abandoned when Sy’s closeness had made her brain malfunction, then opened a bottle of beer for himself.

“So, where are you headed from here?” Sy asked, handing Leah her drink then taking a massive bite of the deluxe pizza. It looked like he barely chewed it before he went in for a second and third bite.

“I’m going to stay at our old house. My brother decided to move into an apartment after receiving his residency match to be closer to work so it’ll just be me, myself and I for the better part of the next two weeks.”

She tried to hide it, but Sy could tell she was disappointed. Who could blame her? Caleb was the only family she had left and she would get forty-eight hours with him after so long apart.

“What about you? You mentioned your siblings and your parents… is there an ol’ lady somewhere in that mix?”

Sy’s head snapped up, pausing halfway through chewing his bite. She wasn’t looking at him, instead keeping her eyes on the drink as she swirled the contents around her cup.

“What makes ya think I have a wife or even a girlfriend waitin’ back home?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended but he was a little offended by what she was insinuating.

She kept her eyes downcast as she shrugged. Her lips were pursed from the way she nervously chewed the inside of her cheek. Maybe it wasn’t so much an accusation as it was her way of tiptoeing into the subject.

“Hey…” Sy waited until Leah dared to look up before he continued. “I’m no saint,” he admitted, his voice soft, “but I ain’t a cheat. If I had someone waitin’, she’d be it for me.” Not everyone considered kissing cheating but his ever growing feelings would definitely constitute infidelity. Leah’s eyes flickered from left to right, studying his face as she considered his words before finally giving a little nod of acceptance.

There was a tense silence as she picked up another piece of pizza, leaving her crusts in the box. Had Aika been with them, he would have given them to her as a treat. He was surprised how much he found himself to be missing the pup.

He’d found a shelter that helped send strays overseas for them to be adopted. They’d been willing to look after Aika until they returned and he’d arranged for them to give her all the shots she needed to keep her safe and eventually allow her into the States. They’d asked if he wanted them to help get her home right away but he couldn’t imagine going back to a life on base without his four-legged shadow.

Watching from the corner of his eye as she ate, Sy went over the speech he’d been preparing in his head the whole flight home. He knew what he wanted to say but for some reason the words kept getting caught in his throat. They had expertly avoided the subject the last two months on base but it was time for him to suck it up and say what needed to be said.

“I never apologized.” Leah’s head tilted to the side as she looked at him. She was still working on a mouthful of food but the little motion was enough to convey what she was thinking.

“For kissin’ you,” Sy clarified. “It should never have happened. You were hurt and vulnerable then I went and put ya in a position where ya probably felt like ya couldn’t say ‘no’. I let my personal feelings get the best of me and I accept full responsibility for that. I’m really sorry.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, staring down at her drink.

Noticing her glass was empty, she moved off the bed to the improvised bar. She appreciated Sy’s apology. The circumstances under which he had acted were indeed quite poor, but at the same time, she understood what had pushed him to act—it was the same instinct that had pushed her to go after Niki, career be damned. It was terrifying to think that Sy felt so strongly about her, but it was even more terrifying that she desperately wanted him to.

She took her time fixing her drink, using the break in conversation to gather her courage.

On the bed, Sy was beginning to grow anxious. With her back turned, he couldn’t tell what was going through Leah’s head as the silence stretched on. He foolishly hoped she was gathering the courage to ask for a repeat but for all he knew, she could also be gathering the courage to ask him to leave.

It didn’t go unnoticed that maybe it also hadn’t been the best of plans to apologize when the two of them were stuck in a room with only one bed but it was already well overdue.

He also probably shouldn’t have agreed to share the room in the first place.

What had he been thinking? Even if his head knew to keep his hands to himself, the brain between his legs had a completely different idea of how to spend the next ten hours. He probably wouldn’t sleep a wink out of fear that he would drift off, roll over and grind his dick right into her ass.

He was just about ready to go spend the night in the bed of his truck when she spoke in a soft, unsure voice. He’d never heard her sound so meek.

“When you kissed me, there was a second there where I didn’t really understand what was happening. Everything was a little foggy, like I was in a dream.”

It no doubt felt like a dream because of the concussion. He hadn’t even considered how confused she must have been in addition to being tired, in pain and in a closed room with her superior who was suddenly getting handsy.

“But it wasn’t a dream," Leah finally said. “You were really there. Really holding me. Really kissing me.”

It was his turn to stand, coming to a halt a safe distance behind Leah. There was a small mirror on the wall which now allowed him to study her face in the reflection as she peeked up and did the same.

He’d replayed their kiss in his head so many times since that night. He’d begun to question whether he had only imagined those few blissful moments when Leah had kissed him back before she got spooked.

“A part of me was ecstatic,” feeling hopeful, Sy took a careful step forward and Leah turned to face him, “but another part of me was terrified.”

Shit. “Why?”

“Well, you’re my superior. I don’t need to explain why that’s a horrible idea.”

No, she didn’t. He’d thought about that every day since he’d first met the feisty young woman. But he had the feeling that was not the only factor. Sy took another step, making Leah’s breath hitch from the proximity. “And?”

Leah went back to chewing the inside of her cheek, looking away. Suddenly losing his nerve, Sy moved back, clearing the empty paper plates and pizza box from the bed. He wasn’t sure he could hear her reasons for not wanting him.

“It’s okay, ya don’t have to tell me. I’ll get outta here and let ya get some rest.”

He was disappointed, but what had he expected? That she would confess her undying love for him and that suddenly everything would be all fine and dandy?

Sy moved to his duffle, packing up the clothing items that had fallen onto the floor of the bathroom as he’d dug through it.

The sudden fear of watching Sy walk away was enough to convince Leah to speak.

“Please don’t go.”

Sy froze, surprised by her rushed plea. He slowly straightened, making his way back to Leah where she dropped onto the bed, hugging herself tightly. Sy longed to be the one to comfort her but he didn’t want to risk pushing her too far. Again.

“I really wanted to kiss you but then I started to worry that maybe you were expecting… more.”

That made Sy pause, crouching in front of Leah. “What exactly did ya think I was expectin’?”

“I— I don’t know.” She sniffled, shaking her head before wiping her cheek on the back of her hand. “It seemed like every time I got hurt I got a bedside visit from you and that night… You had this look in your eye like you thought you’d never see me again. You can’t blame me for thinking that there was something more than kissing on your mind.”

Just like that, Sy was back on base, reliving the most terrifying events of his life. Whenever he thought back to that night he’d been so focused on his stupidly impulsive decision to kiss a soldier under his command that he had almost forgotten about the op. Or maybe he’d just had a selective memory that preferred to remember the softness of her lips over the way she’d been so completely still when he found her unconscious.

“When I walked in and saw ya on that floor, I was convinced that I’d lost ya. I kept thinkin’ of all the things that I wished I’d said then, when ya woke up, I still couldn’t speak a single fuckin’ word so I— I didn’t think, I just acted.”

“Can you... tell me now?”

Sy swallowed the lump in his throat feeling his palms start to sweat. All the stress was coming right back but this time, he was determined to make it through. He took Leah’s hands in his.

“You’ve been on my mind since the first moment I saw ya. I liked that you didn’t take any shit from anyone. And since then… Fuck, I’ve just been falling hard. You make me feel understood in ways I've never experienced before. You make me feel like— Like I’m good enough.”

Leah looked down at their joined hands. “What if I can’t be enough? What if I can’t give you what you need?”

At first Sy thought she meant a relationship but when she unconsciously glanced down to the bed, Sy began to put the pieces together.

“Leah,” it was still foreign to use her first name, “does sex make ya uncomfortable?”

“Sometimes.” She tried to pull away but Sy didn’t let go. He caught her eye, giving her a look that clearly meant to cut the bullshit. “Okay, a lot of the time. Even if guys are willing to wait, they tend to expect sex at some point down the line and I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever be into it.”

“And ya think that’s a deal breaker for me?” He had to admit that, although he was used to going long periods of time on his own, he’d assumed sex would be on the table when he was home.

“Well, you are Captain ‘Pussy-is-on-the-food-pyramid’ Syverson.”

Sy winced, running a hand over his cropped hair. He hadn’t meant the question as an accusation but her defensiveness was understandable. 

“Yeah, okay, I can see where you’re coming from but it ain’t like that. There’s no fun in it if my girl don’t like it.”

Noticing she was still skeptical, Sy lifted the hem of his shirt. When Leah didn’t make a move to stop him, he guided her hand to his chest, holding it flat over his scar. “I learned the hard way that thinkin’ with my dick gets me nowhere good. I’ll give all that up in a heartbeat if it means I get a shot at somethin’ real.”

Leah traced the lines of his scar. She remembered it perfectly though she hadn’t dared ask about it when they’d been in his room on base.

“You think I’m something real?” she whispered.

Releasing her hand, Sy brushed Leah’s hair out of her face and kissed her temple.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was obvious that Leah was still scared of the possible repercussions. After all, she had every reason to be worried about the impact a relationship could have on her career. Leah was still young, she had a lot to learn about what she wanted in life and a lot to lose should anything go wrong. As much as Sy wanted to pull her to him and kiss her until she couldn’t think of anything else, Leah needed time to make a decision.

Looking at her more closely, Sy took in the dark circles under Leah’s eyes and the way her cheeks looked more sunken than ever before. She’d been a wreck after Niki and with good reason. The caveman in him felt better knowing that he’d fed her but she was still in desperate need of a good night’s rest.

He would have to put a pin in the conversation until they got back to base.

“What time’s your flight?”

“Eight.”

“Then you need to get some sleep.” Sy stood, pulling Leah up with him. She didn’t argue, simply grabbing her pack and heading into the bathroom. Meanwhile, Sy cleaned up the leftover pizza, managing to fit the box in the mini-fridge. He shut the curtains and switched off the main light, leaving only the bedside lamp on. After a moment of hesitation, he removed his shirt, keeping his shorts on, and climbed into bed.

Leah joined him a moment later, and to his surprise, she wrapped herself around him from behind. She’d changed into something sleeveless and the feeling of her bare arms over his skin nearly made him groan.

“You’re warm.”

“Na Sugar, your hands are just freezin’.” He intertwined their fingers together, happily sharing his body heat.

Leah smiled to herself at the easy way the endearment fell from his lips. Just for one night, she would let herself enjoy Sy’s company. For one night, she would pretend that he wasn’t her captain. For one night, she would pretend she wasn’t terrified he would eventually get sick of waiting for something that might never happen.

Sy woke the next morning to a shiver running down his spine. He sensed Leah’s absence immediately and he didn’t need to look around the room to know that she was gone.

Chapter 18

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #19: Taken

“In here, Heartlight,” A hand on her back, Sawyer’s voice tucked low and behind her horn as winds whipped around them with dust and debris. Hustled into a building, some sort of bar by the smell of it she could guess, mere moments after their arrival. She shook the dust out of her clothes and off of her scales as they both took a moment to recuperate.

As a chirurgeon and skilled healer, it wasn’t uncommon for Amesha’s services to be requested outside the walls of the Crystarium. She’d been moved between the forts, sent with soldiers to smaller villages that lacked a doctor, flown out for emergency services, but it wasn’t necessarily common… Partly due to having to accommodate her needs, partly because she had a particularly fearsome guard dog who wasn’t too terribly fond of the separation. Also she hated flying. A lot. Which is why she was here now. That the both of them were here, even. Sawyer’s worries assuaged by accompanying her, her own fears of flight not-at-all dealt with by her partner’s presence but made more tolerable after the fact to the point she was willing to put up with it. Amesha cocked her head as said partner placed her hand onto her shoulder to wake her from her momentary daydream. “Come, let’s sit for a moment. The dust storm should pass shortly then we can continue our way towards the Inn.” Her hand in Sawyer’s led her through the rest of the crowd taking shelter. Getting bumped here and there, having to squeeze between strangers, then finally arrived at a booth that kept them off to the side so that she might not get randomly lost and/or suffocated by passing peoples who very much so didn’t notice the small drahn in their midst. She threw herself into the seat to escape the throng. “Storm to stray and unfortunate in time- Not long after wresting the bough from its roots must it also delay-” Amesha sighed, leaning forward onto the table while her tail thumped. “Better for, perhaps, to allow uneasy waves in the calm oasis to settle…”

Sawyer, who had remained standing, leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She could feel the smile on her partner’s lips and the slight aura of smug knowing at her words. She couldn’t help but glare in the vague direction of Sawyer’s face. “Oh come now, Heartlight. You know as well as I that you hated every moment we were in the air. Take this as the blessing it is.” Her well-meaning sentence was interrupted by a partially suppressed laugh. “For now, I’m going to get us something for the road. And perhaps something that will settle those uneasy waves, hmm?” Another kiss to the top of her head announced Sawyer’s departure. Nothing for it, then, than to simply allow her thoughts to drift until her Hawk returned with whatever bounty she might obtain…

Or not. The thud of an unfamiliar hand on the table jolted her back into reality right as she’d begun to think of their return. She was pleasantly already imagining herself collapsed onto their bed facedown and ready to sleep. Instead she was now having to point her blank gaze towards a stranger who… Eugh, what had they been drinking? “Pardon me little lady- Seems like yer all on yer lonesome waitin’ out this little storm outside. Mind some company while ya do?” The voice was gruff, not all that unfriendly, somewhat drunk sounding, and honestly very irritating. Especially given that he waited on no response from her before dropping himself in the seat next to her. “Don’t mind m’self. Just can’t stand to let a lady be all on her own in a place like this- ‘specially when she’s lookin’ so out of place in the middle of it. You just blow in with the windstorm, I’m assumin’?” Her tail retreated to the other side of the bench so as to not accidentally whack him in her irritation. “River wound and wandered from crystal’s tower to the far edges upon back of the wind, yes, only to bring with it storm and dust. Waiting for her Hawk to return so that she might aid and recuperate until once again stretching wings along road…” She rapped her knuckle against the table- Usually strange men were put off by her wandering poetic speech enough to shut up and wander away. “For work, for aid, to protect, to keep. Unable to allow distraction, unable to allow discussion…” A beat. A pause. “…Shite yer a real fancy type talkin’ like that. I was right, ya are out of place. Sayin’ yer waitin’ on some- You need a guard, yer sayin’? Only think ‘hawk’ can mean, at least. Well I suppose I picked the right time to drop in, then. You runnin’ from someone? Or just goin’ somewhere? Not much out here for a lady who talks all fancy…” She couldn’t help but sit there visibly nonplussed as this guy didn’t take the not-so-obvious hint that she was being weird so he’d fuck off. “Must be from Eulmore if yer chattin’ like this anyways. Didn’t think you folks got that far away from the place. Y’ain’t in the business of bein’ a sponsor, are ya? Or do they even do that anymore… Don’t matter. I do the escortin’ kind of work all the time, a proper guard I am. Ya thinkin’ how much I’m gonna get paid already? I got some nice rates for the fancier folk so they get their money’s worth…”

Amesha sat bolt upright as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her wings, away from her now, yanked hard against the restraints that they’d been put into for flight so they would be safe. That was at least an immediate sign for someone to come back to the table. She didn’t process much else of what he said in the next few seconds. Frankly she wasn’t sure he did either, what with the way he was continuing to inch closer. Because it was only those few seconds before storm and surge stomped back over towards them and balled up fury and rage into a fist- “Pardon me,” Sawyer’s voice was the perfect picture of restrained spontaneous violence. “Take your hands off of her.” “Excuse me, missy, but me and my new employer here are havin’ a productive conversation,” He drawled, leaning in closer to Amesha. “I think ya might be a tad bit confused. She asked for me to come over here-”

The sound of metal crunching against bone was far louder in her horn than the yelling that came along with it- His arm released her, finally, as the second crunch saw the man beside her thrown out of the bench and onto the floor. “I said. Don’t. Touch. Her.” Each word was punctuated by her boots as she stepped over him and to her, her touch reaching out for her partner’s hand. Taken in a moment with each other before Sawyer’s attention returned to their bothersome new friend. He was still laid there sputtering on the floor; still trying to catch up with the events of the past few seconds. He wasn’t too quick on the uptake. “As one meant to say, as one did say…” Amesha extricated herself from the bench seat with her partner’s help, making sure she didn’t step on the drunkard. “The Hawk was due to return to the bough. Not you- Not anyone else. Her.” Amesha’s tail wrapped itself about Sawyer’s leg for a moment as she frowned downwards towards him.

Sawyer bristled as eyes came upon them. As she pulled Amesha against her. “That is to say she’s taken.”

[janicho88]

When It All Falls Apart -Chapter 6

Pairing- Jensen x ex!Padalecki Reader

Word count- 2,454

Warnings- Some language. Drinking, dealing with a breakup. Angst, If I missed something let me know!

A/N-Sorry for the last chapter, but you all had to know it was coming. A little off canon, SPN ended after 10 years. We still got all the characters in during that time though. Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for your help with this. You two are amazing!!

Summary-Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.

Series Masterlist

Walking out of Jensen’s apartment building you hail a cab to take you to an airport hotel.  You manage to keep yourself together until you check in and close the hotel room door behind you. This weekend really couldn’t not have gone much worse.  You don’t bother changing out of your clothes before you collapse down on the bed in tears.

Back in his apartment, Jensen is pacing the floor and keeps looking at the door.  ‘What the hell just happened,’ he thinks to himself,  ‘there is no way things have really been as bad as she thinks.’ Grabbing the half full bottle of whiskey off the counter he takes it to the couch where he drops down in the corner spot.  By the time he passes out, the alcohol is much closer to the bottom of the bottle.

You aren’t able to get much sleep Sunday night and you get yourself over to the airport before 5 am.  Just in time to find out your flight has been delayed because of the incoming storms.  Sitting down in an empty area near the terminal, you pull your hat down further to help hide your face.  The black clouds and claps of thunder are very fitting of the current turbulence you feel in your heart.  

It is a few hours late, but the plane is finally ready to board.  With the layover in Atlanta, you should be arriving back in Texas around 3pm instead of 11:30am.  Maybe no one will notice you’re coming home too early then.  You aren’t really up to rehashing everything with Gen and Jared when you get back.  You didn’t think you would be able to, but you manage to sleep most of the way to Atlanta, making that flight feel much shorter.

Your family isn’t expecting you for a few more hours, so you take a cab back home instead of calling one of them to pick you up.  Thankfully, no one is home when you arrive.  A half an hour before your flight is supposed to land, you text Jared that you are back early, and have a ride home.  You’ve had a little bit of time now to try and make yourself presentable enough to face them, without giving anything away.

Jared and crew arrive home a short time later with some pizza, and you join them in the dining room.

“How was the trip?” your brother asks, around a mouthful of food.

“Okay.  Toronto’s a nice city.  Saw the aquarium, CN Tower, and did some shopping.”

“How’s Ackles? Is he ready to come home?”

“He’s okay, really busy.  I don’t know.  He seems to be having a good ole time up there,” you don’t notice the bitterness in your answer, but Jared and Gen do.

“Tom,” Gen turns to her son, “why don’t you go play in the living room?”

“Okay,” the little guy doesn’t take much persuading.

“How are you and Jensen?” she asks once Tom is gone.

“We’ve been better,” you answer vaguely.

“Did this trip help at all?”

“It’s made where we stand pretty clear.”

“That’s good right?” you brother questions.

“Where is that?” Comes from Gen.

You clean up your spot and set your plate in the dishwasher, on your way out of the kitchen you pause and turn to face them briefly.  “We broke up,” you announce before disappearing upstairs.  Before you shut the bedroom door you hear Gen yelling.

“Jared Tristen Padalecki put that phone down now!”

“I’m going to…”

“Do nothing to interfere in this.”

You aren’t surprised when there is a brief knock right before Jared enters the room.  He walks around the room for a moment before sitting down across from you on the bed.  “So what happened?”

“I was right, our relationship has run its course.”

“What did he do?”

“Jared, you know I love you, but I’m not letting you put yourself in the middle of this.  Some relationships just don’t work out.  Jensen’s life and mine just don’t fit together anymore.  He has a lot going on, and I just don’t have a place in his life.”

You see your brother clenching his jaw working over what you said, you continue before he can say anything.  “The two of you are best friends, what happened between him and I shouldn’t change that.  Please don’t let it.”

“I told him if he ever hurt you, I would kick his ass.”

“I believe that, but I’m asking you not to.  You also told a few of my exes that, and never followed up, don’t start now.”

“First time for everything,” he mumbles.

“I wish things didn’t turn out the way they did, I really do Jare.  I guess it’s better to realize it’s not going to work out now then before things go any further.”

“I don’t understand how this happened, I know Ackles was crazy about you.”

“Was, " is the keyword in that sentence.  Can you please just drop it?”

He comes over to give you a hug before leaving the room.  When he opens the door, Gen is standing on the other side.

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to stop Jared from doing anything crazy,” she says as she walks in.

Jared gives her a kiss before he leaves and she joins you on the bed.  “Seriously, are you okay?  I know you won’t bring Jared in the middle of this.”

“No, this fucking sucks,”  you tell her as you start to cry again.  She moves next to you and wraps you in a big hug.

“I’m so sorry sweetie.  I’m here for whatever you need, let it all out.”

“I really thought he was my forever, ya know.”

“What happened this weekend?”

You go on to tell her all about your time in Toronto, ending with the breakup.  “I think a part of me is always going to be in love with him.  Right now, I can’t even think of seeing him again just knowing how hard it’s going to be.”

“It’s going to sting for a while, but you’re going to get through it.  You have friends and family that are going to be there for you to lean on.  You said it yourself, the way things have been lately, you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

The two of you sit together a little bit longer before she has to go deal with a shouting Tom.  You turn the television on to try and distract yourself before going to sleep.  Maybe Bones will help with that.

Up in Toronto, Jensen’s day hasn’t gone off much better.  He is awoken by the ringing of his phone.  Leaning up from the couch he makes the mistake of opening his eyes and the bright sunlight is not welcomed by his hangover.  Closing his eyes he tries reaching around for his phone before finally locating it.

“‘Lo,” he answers.

“Bloody hell, are you still in bed mate?” Karl asks on the other end.

“Never made it there, what’s up?”

“We were supposed to meet for breakfast ten minutes ago before going to work on this scene. Jack, Anthony and Erin are already here.  I take it you aren’t going to make it.”

“Fuck.”

“Think you might have already done that last night with your girl.”

Jensen lets out a dry laugh while holding his head. “I’ll meet you at the studio.”

Forcing himself from the couch, he makes his way to the kitchen for some water and pain pills.  Drowning those he attempts to get himself ready for the day.  Grabbing sunglasses and a hat before leaving the apartment he stops for a greasy fast food breakfast on his way to set.

He is the last one to arrive, everyone else is standing at the back of the room waiting for the choreographer in charge of this fight scene to finish getting ready.  Eric is off to the side going through notes with the director.

“Where’s your better half?  She comin around for a tour today?” Karl asks, looking around.

“She’s gone,” Jensen says lowly before taking a drink of his coffee. 

“I thought she said her flight was this afternoon?”

Jensen just shrugs.

Karl takes a minute and studies the man who has become a friend to him.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jensen walks over to a chair and sits down by himself waiting for things to start.

They have been given instructions for this scene yesterday and today,  some of it has even been demonstrated. They go through the first rehearsal, and there are some mistakes all around.  By the fourth time, it seems to be mostly Jensen who is struggling with it.  They call for a break and Karl takes him off to the side.

“I’m going to ask this one more time.  What is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a load of shit.  You’re fucking awful out there, and you smell like a damn brewery.”

Jensen sighs and turns away running a hand down his face before looking back to his friend. “Y/N left me last night.”

“To go back home?  We’ve got less than a month left of filming now, before long you’ll be back home with her.  Or hop a plane to go see her this weekend.  Pull it together, mate.”

Karl starts to turn back around, but the next sentence from Jensen stops him.  “No, she left me.  Said I was an asshole and she couldn’t take things anymore.  Or something like that.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Jensen just nods, “let’s try this again.” 

It takes a few more tries, but they all finally get it down the way Kripke and the director want it.   As they are all grabbing their things, Karl goes over to talk to Jensen, but Eric beats him to it.

“I heard what you said to Karl.  I think you and I need to talk.”

Jensen doesn’t say anything as he follows his boss and long time friend out of the room and to his own trailer.  Eric waits for him to open it up before following inside.

“What’s going on?”

“I thought you said you heard what I said to Karl?” Jensen retorts as he grabs two waters out of his fridge.

“I did, and I also talked to a very upset Y/N last night at the restaurant.”

“I’m sorry she bugged you to bring her along.”

“She didn’t, I ran into her in the elevator.  Why didn’t you bring her, or invite her along?”

“She isn't part of the cast.”

“I know this group and they include friends and significant others when they go out if someone is in town.  Have things really gotten that bad between the two of you?”

“That’s what she seems to believe.  I thought we were fine.  Things have been busy, I don’t see her much, but I didn’t think it was anywhere near as bad as she seems to.”

“You were putty in that girl's hands the first time you met.  Took you long enough to act on those feelings.  Watching you last night, today even.  I don’t think she is too far off from her claim.  Maybe this role is getting in your head a little bit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jensen questions him with a glare.

“Think about it.  You were actually so pissed off that I brought her along last night, you made her leave.  The guy she used to date, would have gotten up the moment he saw her, had his arm around her the whole night showing her off to his friends.  I’ve never known you to be upset at seeing her.”

Jensen doesn’t respond to that.

“I remember walking by you facetiming each other in between scenes if one of you wasn’t on set, even before you started dating.  I barely hear you talk about her now, let alone talking to her.”

“No phones on set policy here, remember.”

It’s Eric’s turn to roll his eyes.  “You’ve been a friend a long time, and I would hate to see you lose probably the best thing that has ever happened to you, because you are being an idiot.”

“She left me.”

“When you go home after filming wraps, and you have a chance to get your head out of your ass, you might want to buy some knee pads.”

“What for?”

“You’re going to have a lot of groveling to do.  Before she left, she asked me to keep an eye on you, she still cares about you.”  Having said his peace Eric walks out of the trailer.  

The door doesn’t stay shut for long, Karl is coming in next.  “So what happened?”

“Eric talked to Y/N last night, apparently he seems to see her side.”

Karl stares at Jensen before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “I mean what happened with you and your girl?  I was a little surprised she left the restaurant.”

“I told her she shouldn’t have made Eric bring her.”

“So you were just going to leave her home alone?”

“Why is everyone so caught up on that?  It was a cast get together.”

Karl holds up his hands.  “So she left because you made her go home?”

Jensen starts pacing his trailer.  “Why is that everyone’s hangup here?  Everything I do is for us, yet she can’t see that.  I work hard so that we can have a good life.  She says we never talk, that’s not true. Then she tells me she doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.  I don’t know what more she wants from me.  All I do is for her.”

Karl is quiet for a minute, “this about forgetting her birthday?”

“I didn’t forget, I just didn't realize it was June already. Besides, I made that up to her already.”

“I see, she seemed like a great girl.  Sorry, things didn’t work out for you two.  Do us all a favor tonight, we got some big scenes to film tomorrow, try and keep it sober.”  With that Karl makes his exit also.

Jensen throws his bottle of water across the trailer in frustration.  Grabbing his bag he heads out to the car to get out of here and back to the apartment where no one will give him any more shit tonight.

Despite Karl’s earlier remark, he pulls a beer out of the fridge as soon as he’s out of the shower, he finds himself in the bedroom staring at the picture of the two of you on his nightstand. ‘How the hell did we get to this point?’ he thinks to himself as he drowns the bottle and tips the picture down.  The sight of your smiling face hurts too much to see. 

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7

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[self-made-cages]

Small joys:

1. Drinking apple juice on an airplane

2. Really good airplane movies

3. Eating chicken nuggets and broccoli at an airport bar during a flight delay (lol)

4. Collapsing into a king sized bed after a longgg day

5. Blow dried my hair and it got super shiny

[eakdoeseurope]

The way back home

We woke up on Friday ready to catch our 10:30am train back to Rome so that we could make our 7pm flight back to JFK. Of course, we went to a bakery first, so we could pick up some pastries for the trip. I finally got a cannoli:

Then we boarded our train and waited for it to depart. And waited. And waited.

An announcement was made that our train was delayed there was an "accident involving a person" on the track somewhere near Bologna, and there was an investigation taking place. We waited some more. They announced that we'd start moving at 11am. 11am came and went. They announced that we'd start moving at noon. Noon came and went.

The ride from Venice to Rome is about 4 hours, and then we'd have to transfer to a 30-minute train from Roma Termini to the airport, and we needed to check in at the airport counter by 6pm, so we sat there doing math, trying to figure out at what point, if any, we should abandon the train. There was a flight from Venice to FCO that was scheduled to get in at 4:30, but I looked up its on-time performance and it was regularly an hour late, and they had an 8kg carry-on limit so we would have had to check our bags, so it seemed risky. I suggested that if the train wasn't moving by 12:30, we should try the flight.

At 12:26, we started moving.

Trenitalia apparently decided that they would compensate us for this delay by providing us with more water and snacks than we could reasonably consume. Jilli provided this photo of the "snack box" they gave us after they had already given us bottles of water, cookies, and chips.

We got to Termini around 4:35, caught the 4:50 train to FCO, got to the ticket counter around 5:40, and by the time we got to the gate, we walked straight onto the plane.

Then it was back to New York, and I went down to South Jersey for the weekend to see Melissa, and then I flew back to Indianapolis and drove home from there and collapsed into bed and slept until 11am.

I'm flying to Seattle in a couple of weeks and I really hope my traveling luck has improved by then.

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 111,

Morning thought: As tempting as it is to just sleep in the archive every night while classes are going, I don’t have a good way of bathing or doing laundry there.  That’s going to be an annoying balance to strike.  

And now I have questions about the old archivist’s hygiene that I’d rather not think about given how I’ve inherited his bed and clothes. 

*******

Well, it’s later than I meant to let it get, but I think I’m as ready as I’m going to be to start teaching tomorrow.  Which really just means I still don’t feel better but realize that any more prep isn’t actually going to do anything but stress me out.  

I’ll be pushing it trying to get to the house before dark, but I’d like to get one last bath and sleep in a larger bed before I wind up stuck in the archive for a week.  Also, I want to bring that blanket back with me.  It’s been a while since the last mist night and judging by the moon we should be due for one any day now.  

*******

Once more I find myself climbing out of bed, uncovering the lamp, and setting to writing so that I might settle my nerves enough to sleep.  

It started to rain as I was about to leave the library.  Figuring it hasn’t been lasting long lately I chose to wait it out.  Although I proved to be correct in my assumption, it was still enough of a delay that it was dark by the time I turned off of the main road and on to the dirt-turned-mud that led to my house and beyond to the farm.  

It was not long after that I heard the growl from the tree; that weird droning rumble that had imprinted itself upon my memory on that other night I chose to walk alone late at night.

For a moment, I felt that involuntary tension of a body readying itself for fight-or-flight.  

And then I remembered nothing had been found before.  It was only the nature sprite.  

Fear gave way to that “Nice job, you got me,” fusion of amusement and irritation.  As I continued on my way I chided the sprite for its recent reuse of gags.  First the scratching and now this; was it running out of material? And really, it could stop the growling already?  The “keep doing the thing long enough and make me worry it’s not a prank this time” bit had been done before too.

I made the last turnoff onto the path to the house.  

The trees opened up.  

A figure with glowing eyes was perched on the porch, the silhouette of its branching antlers backlit by the lamp I left in the window.

The nature sprite was in front of me.  

The growling was still behind me.  

I froze.  

I processed.  

I ran.  

The pitch of the droning shifted.  Followed.  

I neared the house.  

The sprite shrieked.  Sprang.  Towards me.  Past me.  

I slammed the door open.  Slammed shut behind me.  Locked.  Collapsed against it.  

Noises outside.  Territorial ones.  Hunting ones.  

Mutual intimidation.  

Too stunned  to move to the window for a look.  Panic overrules curiosity.  I can curse it later.  Best not risk drawing attention to myself in the moment.

More noises.  Angry ones.  Visceral ones.

Pained ones.

Sprites don’t like to share their toys.

Silence.

How long?

Force myself to stand.  Start to move to the window.

A knock at the back door.

Jump and nearly fall again.

Cautiously make my way back.  Grab the broom on the way.  Did the nature sprite ever knock before?

Creep over.  Crack the door open.  An unsteady glow filtering in.

Maiko.

Concern on her face.  Cracked crystal mostly hidden in her hands.

Relief.

Drop the broom.  Slump-lean on the wall.  Thank her.

Maiko entered the house, closing the door behind her.  Locking it at my reminder/request/plea.  She helped walk me back to the couch, asking if I was alright and explaining that she’d felt the call of me being in danger through the bracelet.  She’d heard some kind of noises like animals fighting through the trees but by the time she’d gotten here it stopped.

Over the next several minutes I insisted that I was alright now and unharmed, and tried to explain what just happened the best I could.  I asked her if she’d ever heard noises like that before.

Once, long ago as a child.  She never learned what it was or why it stopped following them, but her mother had always said to be quiet and wary, but not afraid when it appeared.  Didn’t stop her from having nightmares for weeks though.

The corner of my mouth turned up.  That didn’t seem like the sort of thing she’d normally admit to.  Did I really look and sound that in need of comfort?  I felt like it at any rate.  I appreciated the commiseration.  Thanked her for it.

She wasn’t sure what I was thanking her for.

Being here, I told her.

A pause.

I asked her if she’d spend the night.  It’d put my mind at ease, knowing I wasn’t alone here tonight.  And if… whatever that was… is still out there and annoyed at not catching me, it might not be a good night to be alone out in the woods either.

Silence while an answer formed.

She said yes.  And then added she was starting to get tired of being woken up by rain, so maybe it was time to take me up on the offer of moving in.  At least until the rains begin to leave again.

I wanted to hug her.  Wasn’t sure how comfortable either of us were with that kind of contact.

So instead I just stood (steadier now) and said I’d get the couch blankets out.

Went to bed myself shortly after that.  Couldn’t sleep.  Got up and started writing.  Now we’ve gone full circle.  And tired enough now that writing is difficult.

Perhaps dealing with a roomful of small children isn’t so bad by comparison.

<==Previous          Next==>

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

[loversj0y]

late night talking

pairing: cc!sapnap x reader (no use of y/n)

summary: sometimes days dont go to plan. it’s a good thing sapnap is there. and maybe sometimes the best things come from the worst days

tws: food mentions, sleeplessness, suggestive content, this one is pure fluff tbh (theres also a bad wordplay)

author’s note: guess who has another song fic? this one is inspired by late night talking by harry styles because it is just very sapnap coded in my brain. this entire fic was inspired by that song while i was driving. big thanks and much love to @sacnac​ for proofreading <3

I let out a long sigh, dropping my backpack down in the kitchen and collapsing against the counter for a few silent moments. I tried to stay as silent as possible as I straightened up to grab a glass of water, eyes skimming over the time on the oven. 4:07 A.M. I’d never had a day go so far from my plan and just become a pile a horribleness. I’d been up for nearly twenty-four hours, simply trying to get to my boyfriend, Sapnap’s, place. We hadn’t seen each other in months, and I was only going to be in town for two weeks, so the plan was to make the most of it. However, that was not what the universe intended for the two of us. 

It had started with my phone apparently coming unplugged in the middle of the night and dying. Instead of my usual alarm waking me and allowing me to have time to get ready, I was awoken by sheer panic at the fact that I was a solid five minutes from completely missing my flight. This was followed by the Uber I’d ordered being late, which allowed time for me to completely burn the breakfast I’d tried to speedily make. So, starving and with 10% battery, I’d gotten into the already-late Uber that smelled like cigars and cheap wine, and I listened to my driver talk on the phone (since I’d forgotten my headphones) as I rode to the airport. Everyone at the airport seemed to have it out for me, walking impossibly slow through corridors too small as I waited in TSA. Not to mention tripping out of my shoe and slamming my arm into the conveyer belt. To make matters worse, the coffee shop was still closed, and Sapnap wasn’t even awake yet for me to complain to about everything. 

However, once I finally arrived to my gate, with just a few minutes left to spare, I hit a wall. Both literally, and metaphorically. I smacked into a column by my gate as I read the screen, and I groaned after I pulled away to actually comprehend the screen in front of me. Turns out I was early, because my flight was delayed nine hours over some cloudy weather. 

Except it wasn’t nine hours at first. No, I sat there for nine hours as every hour I prepared in anticipation to board, and every hour they pushed the time further back. When it became clear that it was going to be awhile, I called Sapnap, but the airport was too loud for me to be able to hear him at all. He’d gone live for a little bit, which would’ve allowed me to at least have a piece of him through all the hell, if not for the fact that the airport wi-fi was incredibly shit. I finally was able to have a conversation with him once the night rolled around and the airport began to empty out, and I could tell he was tired. He’d woken up earlier than he usually does to try and help prepare for my arrival, and I’d almost felt bad for Dream given that I know he was not quiet while cleaning. 

“Baby, it’s okay if you want to sleep. Honestly, I’m exhausted too.”

He whined a bit, “But who’ll be here to greet you when you arrive? And I wanted to pick you up.”

“Well, you know I don’t like you driving at night anyway. But Patches can greet me at the door, and you can greet me once we wake up next to each other.” “But I want it to be nice for you,” He’d whined again, exhaustion clearly slipping into his voice.

I chuckled, “it will be. It’ll be just like when I move in together in the future. I have my key still, and I’ll come sneak into bed and cuddle you. And everything will be perfect in the morning.”

“Mmm, but I wanted to greet you with a kiss. And some big lovin’ hugs, darlin’” He drawled on, “and maybe a lil butt pat or two.”

“Well, sweets, I’ll give your cheek a kiss once I lay down. Plus, you can get all that in the morning. But only if you go to sleep. I need my baby all well rested for me,” I hummed lightly as I spoke. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’, I’ll do. Anything for you. Good night, baby. I love you.”

“Good night, Sap. I love you too, and I’ll be giving you kisses in bed before you know it.”

He hummed out a content noise, and I could hear him slowly settling into bed, “Yeah, you’ll be covered in kisses soon. All the smooches.”

We spoke for a few minutes more before I listened to his words slow into a Texan drawl that led into soft quiet breaths.. It was a bit of brightness in the dull grey of the day so far. Eventually, I boarded the plane, and though the end of the tunnel of hell was near, I ended up stuck to an old man who snored the entire time, and since I’d had no headphones, I couldn’t sleep. 

When I’d managed to hobble myself out of the plane and call an Uber to Sapnap and Dream’s, I’d felt myself growing increasingly annoyed from the long day. I had a burning hatred for my own plans failing, and I’d gone off and on between blaming the universe and myself, but with the exhaustion settling in, I just felt annoyed. I stayed silent in the car ride there, just sitting and staring out the window. I tried to nap but found that I just couldn’t sleep. The exhaustion in my bones was being offset by my own frustration and annoyance, keeping me from ever relaxing enough to actually sleep. I rested my eyes here and there, but I just could not, for whatever cursed reason, actually fall asleep. 

And that led to here. Standing in a kitchen I hadn’t seen in months with full body exhaustion, entirely unable to fall asleep. And even when I thought I had Patches to cheer me up, she ran into Dream’s room. Instead, I resigned myself to making a cup of tea in the hopes that it would lull me into , if not sleep, at least relaxation enough to lie in bed with my boyfriend. 

I shut my eyes. After a few silent moments, I felt two arms wrap around my waist. Soft kisses were pressed against my neck, leading up to my ear, “I thought you were gonna come right to bed,” he murmured softly against my ear. 

I turned and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend, relaxing into him, “‘M sorry, love. I  can’t sleep,” I mumbled weakly. 

He let out a quiet whine, hugging me closer, “I’m sorry, babe. How was your day?” 

I felt my chest grow tight. I wanted to formulate an answer, but instead, I just let out a soft sob. I didn’t even want to cry, let alone realized that I needed to, but once he’d asked how my day was at all, I couldn’t hold back the floodgates. 

“Hey, hey, darling,” he pulled out from the hug, looking at me and gently wiping the tears from my eyes, “It’s alright, talk to me, what’s going on?” 

I just let out another wrecked sob as he softly rubbed my back, “it’s just – it’s been really hard being without you, and today was just so shitty, and I want to sleep so badly, I’m exhausted, and I’ve just missed you so much, and-” I sobbed again, leaning into his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around me, speaking softly into my ear, “Shh, it’s alright, baby. You’re here with me now, I’ve got you.” He kissed the top of my head gently, “C’mon, I want you to take a nice deep breath with me, and then you’re gonna drink your tea, and I’m gonna stay up with you until you can sleep, sound good?”

I nodded softly, and he rubbed my back gently. After a moment, he took a deep breath, and I followed in suit. Once I’d calmed down a bit, he pulled away, grabbing my tea. He mixed in a bit of honey – the way he knew I liked – before handing it to me, and I took a slow sip quietly. 

I turned back around to hug my boyfriend, but he wasn’t next to me anymore. I frowned for a moment until I heard the music. I recognized the song instantly, and I snorted softly as Sapnap came around the corner, a hairbrush in hand as a microphone, pointing at me as he began to lipsync to the song. He danced around with it as well, giving me a full performance. I snickered behind my mug, watching him with a grin. He wrapped his arms around my waist, singing to me now.  “If you're feelin' down, I just wanna make you happier, baby,” he held me close by the waist, moving around with me. I set my mug down after I took another sip, grabbing onto his forearms. I grinned quietly, “What are you doing?” He just shook his head, grabbing my hands and spinning me around as he continued to sing. “Now you're in my life, I can't get you off my mind,” he kissed the top of my forehead as he finished the line, and I just laughed, grinning with him. By the start of the next verse, he had me performing with him, singing to him as he continued to dance around with me. We may not have gotten our perfect welcome, but I wouldn’t trade the moments like these for all the stars in the sky. 

Once the song came to a close, and we sang the final lines to each other, he wrapped an arm back around my waist, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek as he leaned in, giving me a soft and loving kiss. We only pulled apart when we absolutely had to, and our foreheads gently pressed together as neither of us wanted to separate for long. 

“What was that for?” I questioned softly, looking up at him once we did finally pull apart. 

He shrugged, giving me a goofy smile, “I couldn’t stand seeing you upset. You mentioned liking that song, so I wanted to cheer you up.” He lightly ran his hand over my cheek, gently rubbing under my eyes where tears had been mere moments before, “Couldn’t stand not seeing your gorgeous smile.” 

A rose-flush dusted my cheeks as I grinned at him softly. “Well, it definitely worked,” I lightly pecked his lips, “so thank you.”

He grinned softly, “Anything for my darlin’.” He moved his hands down, lightly tapping my thigh. I jumped up, and he held me tightly around his waist. He moved one hand up to gently rub my back, walking to the couch. 

“You know,” he started, looking down at the couch, “you mentioned how you’ve been really missing me.” 

I nodded softly, prompting him to continue. 

“Well, I’ve been really missing you, too. And well, if you’d want to…” he took a deep breath, “we have the space here. And I’d love for you to move in.”

My heart felt so full of love I felt as though I would burst. I wanted to say yes, however…

“I’d love that, but I just – I don’t want to overstep. This is yours and Dream’s place, and George is supposing to be moving in soon, I just – I want this to be yours and the boy’s space, I don’t want to affect anything.” In my exhaustion, I seemed to ramble a bit. I really did want to live with Sapnap. But just because Sap was okay with it didn’t mean the other two were, so I’d make excuses to keep his home life calm if I had to, “plus, I have issues with work. I’ve been saving to move down here, but I still haven’t actually found a job yet, so I can’t just leave.” 

He hummed, pulling me in closer to his chest. “Well, I can actually solve those problems right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “this idea of mine isn’t exactly…new.” He paused for a moment, thinking to himself. He stood up again, still holding me, and he walked me upstairs to the room next to his, “This room was originally just going to be set up for storage, but,” he set me down before opening the door, and I looked around quietly. It felt like home immediately. A simple layout, just a bed, desk, nightstand, and chest of drawers, and the walls were decorated only slightly, small things including a polaroid from our second date. 

I walked around a bit, “What’s- I don’t,” 

“This is what I’ve been working on since you left. I talked to the boys already, and they both agreed that they’d be okay with you moving in. And I have no doubts, I know you’re my forever. So I’ve been setting this up – your own space, just so you can still have your privacy and if you need alone time and everything. And I did the math, since you wouldn’t have to worry about rent, you’d have enough saved up to be set. I mean, Dream makes enough for the all of us at this point, so you know,” he shrugged a bit, looking shyly across the room to avoid making eye contact. 

I turned back to him, moving as quick as I could into his arms, practically tackling him onto the bed. I nodded quickly, “Okay. Yeah. I- I’d love to,” I grinned at him. He perked up, grinning back at me, “Really? You’re serious?”

I nodded again, a wide grin covering my face. 

He picked me up, spinning me around in his arms and whooping loudly. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” He laughed happily, holding me tightly and pulling me in for a strong, loving kiss after. 

I kissed him back happily, softly laughing along with him. There was nothing but warmth in my chest. Thirty minutes with the love of my life seemed to wipe clear the 18 previous hours of hell. He kept a hand on my cheek, grinning happily. 

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. And live with you. We can do so many things! We could go grocery shopping together! Or go get Ikea furniture!” He laughed happily, grinning at me, “we could get up to so much stuff.” 

“So much stuff?” I questioned with a grin.

“Shenanigans. All of them. We could prank Dream. We could scare George, he gets really jumpy, especially at night. And we could do other stuff,” he grinned, reaching a hand down to grab my butt.

I laughed, smiling lovingly at him, “We’ll definitely get up to ‘other stuff’. I know how needy you get when I leave for home.”

He kissed my cheek, “I just can’t help it. I love my baby,” he kissed my other cheek, “you know, we could get up to other stuff in Dr-”

“If you are about to suggest we fuck in Dream’s room, I’m taking a flight back home.”

He quickly closed his mouth. 

“Wow, I’m already liking this one more than you as a roommate, Sap,” Dream spoke up, standing in the doorway of what was now my room. 

“Hey, shut up,” Sapnap threw a pillow at his roommate, “What are you doing up?’

Dream shrugged, “I wasn’t asleep for long. I was editing a video til about three. Then I got woken up by some… music,” he gave Sapnap a look, and Sapnap just shrugged. 

“Hey, I had a very important job to do. My darlin’ needed cheering up.” 

Dream just nodded in understanding, “I’m gonna assume you said yes to the whole moving-in thing?” I just nodded up at him.

“Thank god, Sapnap’s been annoying us for months talking about it,” he pitched his voice up, mimicking Sapnap, “Dream, do you think it looks nice? George, what if it goes wrong? What if-”

“Okat, shut up now, good night, Dream.”

Dream rolled his eyes, “Good night, love birds. No fucking too loud. Use protection, Sapnap can’t be trusted to raise a kid yet.”

I snorted a bit, rolling my eyes,  “Good night, droommate.” 

He glared at me a bit, looking between me and Sapnap. “Oh, god, there’s two of you now.” He huffed out quietly, just shaking his head and turning around. 

I looked up at Sapnap, and we both just laughed. 

We spent the next two hours, sitting in bed and talking and planning our life together. When I finally felt the exhaustion taking over, and I finally fell asleep, it was closing in on seven A.M., and the sun was rising. But neither of us cared, more focused on the look in each other’s eyes as we fell asleep with late night “i love yous”.

[le-poor-writer]

Serve at First Sight (Kageyama Tobio x F!Reader)

"I bet I can..." Hinata mumbled and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Hah?" Kageyama glared back. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not good at setting. BUT I BET I CAN HIT THE LONGEST AND FASTEST SERVE!"

"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"

"YOU WANNA GO NOW?"

"Uh... Kageyama, Hinata, Stop messing around or else you'll get an earful from Daichi-san." Yamaguchi tries to mediate the situation. The last time the idiotic duo did something stupid, all the first years had to run extra laps. And he was not up for that today.

"No use talking to idiots Yamaguchi." Tsukki sneered. "They have an IQ capacity of a teaspoon."

Hinata stood at the line of the court, deciding to go first. Throwing the ball into the air, he jumped as high as he could. As if he were a crow that leaped into the sky. His ball managed to land a good one meter away from line of the opposite side. A loud bang resonating the court and he beamed smugly at his tall opponent. Kageyama had a ball ready in hands as he took Hinata's place. Itching to outperformed the record set by the orange-head. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed Oikawa's diabolical jump serve from their previous practice match. He knew he was a hundred years too early to be able to do that. Doesn't mean he won't try his luck though.

With a deep exhale, he took flight. Blocking out all sounds surrounding him, save that of his squeaking shoes and the volleyball as he slapped it forward. The stinging sensation felt on his hand causing him to grin. Not quite like Oikawa's, but still powerful. This is it, it will definitely plunge further than Hinata's. And it did. The ball flew pass that one meter mark. And hit a person. Kageyama's eyes blinked twice before the situation finally seeped through his thick skull. He had hit someone's head! Suddenly he could hear his surroundings again. Hinata panicked scream. Yamaguchi running towards the unfortunate human being who fell to the ground. Tsukki trying not to laugh at this slapstick comedy.

Kageyama sprinted towards the person. A hundred thoughts running through his mind. Is the person alright? Is he going to get in trouble with Daichi for this? Where are the third years anyway? Most importantly, when was that person there? How is it he did not notice them? What were they doing there in the first place? Surely no one would actually collapsed from that hit, right? He stood behind Yamaguchi who was trying to communicate with the seemingly unconscious person. And that was when Kageyama noticed, the person was a girl. A petite girl. He kneeled beside Yamaguchi. She seemed to be a little pale.

"Hello?" Yamaguchi tapping her shoulder. "Excuse me, can you hear me?"

No reply.

"KAGEYAMA KILLED SOMEONE!" Hinata hollered.

"What are you going to do now Kageyama?" Despite knowing that she only passed out, Tsukki decided to humour Hinata.

"I'll take her to the nurse's office." Immediately he carried her and jogged out of the court. Hoping not to run into anyone. Especially Daichi.

He couldn't help but glance at her face every three seconds. Wondering if she will wake up midway. But she didn't and that worried him more. If it weren't for her soft faint breaths he would have thought that he actually committed manslaughter with his jump serve. Besides, she has such a small frame. He was afraid if he really did break her. Kageyama held her closer to his body. Noticing how she fit snugly in his arms. And when looked closely, she's actually really cute. A blush spread quickly all over his face. What was he thinking? He doesn't even know her.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) blinked slowly. Feeling slightly dazed.

She woke up late today, all because of that stupid extra Japanese literature homework that had to be submitted during first period. And because she woke up late, she skipped breakfast. She wanted to get something during lunch, but had to drop by the school library to return some books that were due today. Well what do you know, apparently everyone needed to return their books today. If she had known she would've asked her friends to at least get her melon bread. She had about 10 minutes left before lunch ended, but she ran into her senior and was reminded to submit the club activities report today.

It was so hard to focus on classes for the rest of the afternoon. She drank lots of water in hopes to delay the impending dizziness. It was somewhat working. She only needed to wait until clubs and activities time. She'll get a sugary drink from the vending machine, then tell the club leader that she's going to head home early. But karma really had to be a bitch today. Her wallet was not in her bag. (Y/n) dreaded the fact that she might have dropped it somewhere. Searching for her wallet with this now nasty migraine is really going to be such a pain. That is until she suddenly remembered she left it in her drawer at home. She had forgotten about it amidst the rush.

(Y/n) crouched in front of the vending machine. What are the gods playing at exactly. Is it really so hard to get a single bite? Is this karma for denying Mr. Snuggles his treat last week? Well it was not her fault that he knocked over her pudding off the table! She was on the verge of tears when she heard the sound of volleyballs. Oh right, the vending machine was sort of close to the volleyball court... Didn't Yachi say she was recently the co-manager for Karasuno's volleyball club along with that beautiful senior Kiyoko. There is hope. She only needed a little money to get that small carton of drink.

She stood up quickly and regretted it. God, this migraine is killing her. With every ounce of determination she had left, she dragged her feet towards the court. Swaying a little every now and then. The sounds were getting louder, The ball hitting the court, shoes squeaking and people yelling? This is a good thing, it meant that she was getting closer. This is also a bad thing, because it's splitting her skull. Everything around her blurred as she entered the hall. Shit, where is Yachi? She took a few more steps before she felt a hard impact on her head. Dear lord that hurts like hell. And she lost all control of her body before everything went black.

"Oi." a gruff voice distracted her thoughts.

She sat up immediately. Hitting her head on the bed post in the process. She has realized by now that she must have passed out and someone from the volleyball club took her to the nurses office. It must have been this boy sitting beside her. But that still didn't mean she wouldn't be caught off guard. She has always been somewhat intimidated by the male species. Especially those tall towering ones that had to bend a little to talk to her. It's one of the unfortunate things one has to endure being 4'10 and having a small frame. People often joked that she could fit in a suitcase. Though seeing her other shorter friends did brought her pleasure, it still doesn't change the fact that a lot of people around her were giants.

"Idiot."

"Excuse me?" she glared. What's the big idea calling her an idiot out of nowhere. He was the one who surprised her. Sitting on a stool at her bedside, ain't that too close for a stranger, sir?  Who is he again? The volleyball club is pretty popular here in Karasuno after they managed to get into the finals of Inter high recently. It was unfortunate that they lost to Aoba Johsai, but everyone acknowledged what a monster the school was. Yachi said everyone felt down but it didn't dampened their spirit, for their next chance will be the Spring Tournament.

"S-sorry." the guy replied.

Dark eyes darting away from her face. She could make out an intimidating look on his face. Eyebrows furrowing sternly. Lips set on a grim line. Yet his cheeks flushed. Or was it because of the orange hue from the setting sun (she couldn't really tell), which also made his black hair glow. It dawned upon (y/n) that if he could just smooth away his frown, he would be handsome (she thinks). And if only he weren't being gruffy. Wait a minute. Tall volleyball player, black hair, intimidating frowning face but yet somehow still good looking?

"I'm Kageyama Tobio-"

"I know."

Silence... Well that was awkward.

She cleared her throat. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n). From Class 5. Um, Yachi's friend."

"Oh." Shoot. He didn't know she was Yachi's friend. What will the manager say about this. "I'm sorry. That my jump serve knocked you out."

"No no no! I was actually a little hypoglycemic. So your uh, jump serve was just the final nail in the coffin." Damn, she knew that getting hit by any ball was going to hurt. But the ball just now, it felt like it could tear her head off. Or maybe that's just an exaggeration of being starved the whole day. She realized his expression went from frowning to horrifying. "N-not that it will literally be the final nail to my coffin! It was just an expression. Maybe not a good one. Sorry I'm just bad with words when it comes to strangers. I mean not that you're an absolute stranger. It's just that- I'm sorry, I'm blabbering too much."

"Not at all!" he yelled. Ah, he got too animated. He didn't understand why. But he just thought everything about this girl is cute. From her petite stature that makes him want to shield her from the wind. To her way of talking that showed just how shy and awkward she was as how it is with him. Trying to reassure him that it was fine. He couldn't understand this sudden grip in his heart and the tingling sensation at his fingertips. Though maybe it was because he hasn't touch the volleyball for a few hours now.

Another awkward silence ensues.

"Anyways," (Y/n) was still a bit shy. She was after all talking to one of the most popular boys at school. But seeing as how he is now, she thought she could loosen up her guard a bit. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"You wear glasses?"

They rushed back together to the volleyball court. Yachi attacked her with a hug as she lamented about the news she heard from her fellow peers. Daichi scolding him to be careful next time whilst Tanaka giving him his infamous gangster glare. Hinata coming forward with his head down as he presented (Y/n)'s broken glasses. He accidently stepped on them when he was panicking, though he only realised it when she was sent to the nurse's office. Her glasses must have fallen off her head when she got hit. That hard huh. Really God, you want to test her that much today. Fine, she'll apologize to Mr. Snuggles when she gets home.

Unbeknownst to her, Kageyama felt even worse than earlier. His ball caused her to knocked out, and now it even knocked off the glasses from her head and broke it. Stuttering on his words, he apologized again. Hands balled into a tight fist. He just felt so bad. Suga noticed how dejected he sounded. But he also noticed how pink his ears were. Oh? Well even if it wasn't what he thought, there was no harm in... light teasing. Besides, they'd looked adorable together, no?

"If you really feel guilty. Then you should walk her home today." slinging his arm over Kageyama's shoulder, Suga tried to keep a neutral expression. Well there was a slight smirk, but he tried. "What if she falls down on her way home? Or run into a pole?"

"I am short-sighted Sugawara-senpai. Not blind." (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. Really these eyesight jokes should be old by now. "Besides, I will need to stop by the optic shop to have new ones made."

"All the more for him to accompany you. It will get dark soon. Might be dangerous to be walking alone with such bad eyesight."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to burden-"

"Let's go." Kageyama interrupted. And when she declined again, he argued back. "Stop being a stubborn idiot. You still haven't eaten, you can't see well and you're so light that people can just easily carry you away."

Did he just called her an idiot for the second time in the short the period they have known each other. How rude! Not that his points were invalid. He was right. But boy does this person lack delicacy. In the end, she agreed to let him accompany her. He bought two cartons of milk from the vending machine. One for each of them, and they set off on their merry way.

~~~~~~~~~~

"No- Okay. Once again. Osmosis only works with solvents. Simple diffusion, both solvents and solutes. So in osmosis, solvents will move from low solute concentration-" (Y/n) stopped explaining when she noticed how Kageyama's brows were almost touching. His lips formed a small pout. "You know what, we have been revising for more than an hour. Let's take 5. Then continue for another hour. It's getting late and although my mum likes you, my dad wouldn't like you being in my room for too long."

Ever since that day where he sent her home, she began hanging out more with Yachi and the volleyball club. Not that she never hung out with her close friend, it's just that (y/n) felt out of place when she mingles with unfamiliar crowds. But now that every member knew her as the girl who got hit by Kageyama's jump serve, that became the basis of her acquaintanceship with the club and she got to hang out with Yachi more. And before she realized it, Kageyama has just been around her circle. Always there. Heck he has been walking her home more often now that even her mother likes him. Then they became just friends. Or she hoped it stayed that way, because she noticed her emotions began crossing unknown territories.

(Y/n) has come to learn a few things about Kageyama Tobio over the course of their friendship. One, he is an obsessed volleyball freak. A prodigy people say. But what (Y/n) sees is a person consumed by passion for the things he loves. And that isn't necessarily bad. Two, he can be quite childish. He fails to control his frustration which later comes off the wrong way whenever he expresses them. But really he means no harm, because when he is happy, he expresses them genuinely. And three, he is quite sensitive. He may want to show that he didn't care, but he actually takes things to heart. He may feel down about a comment, but he will learn to improve from it.

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"For having to teach an idiot like me."

"Oh stop it. Everyone is good and bad at something. We can't all be the perfect prodigy. That's just how things are. You may be bad at studying, but with your volleyball skills I bet you can represent Japan one day." noticing his eyes lit up, she continued. "So in order for you to attend your camp. Let's just try our best okay?"

Kageyama nodded. It was a little embarrassing to have her comforting him like this. But at the same time it brings him immense joy. When he first met her, he would get flutters looking at her cute appearance. Now, he just feels all warm and fuzzy whenever she talks to him. He liked that she didn't judge him or anyone she's ever met. She would scold him sometimes, but at the same time explained her reasoning. And he really appreciated that, how patient she was with him. It does make him guilty, but at the same time he wants to start behaving better. Is this what Suga meant when he said he has a crush on (Y/n)? Kageyama doesn't really know. He will need time to analyze everything.

"(L/n), do you have time during our Spring Tournament?" he tried looking anywhere else but her face.

"You want me to cheer on the club? Sure thing."

"Yes." Hearing her reply made him smile. With a steady gaze he stared straight into her eyes. "Watch me play, (y/n). I'll show you a really strong serve."

(Y/n) could only smile back as she felt butterflies in her stomach. "Then we better get back to studying."

[skyfire85]

FLIGHTLINE: 193 - LOCKHEED XFC-130H CREDIBLE SPORT

-Line Drawing of the XFC-130H "Credible Sport" aircraft. | Illustration: Honey Badger

FLIGHTLINE: 193 - LOCKHEED XFC-130H CREDIBLE SPORT

Completed in just three weeks, the XFC-130H were a pair of transports modified for ultra-STOL performance for an ultimately aborted rescue mission.

PRELUDE

During the 1979 Iranian Revolution, fifty-two American diplomats and citizens were captured and held hostage by a group of Iranian students, who demanded the former Shah of Iran, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. US President Jimmy Carter refused to extradite Pahlavi, who had fled to the US for cancer treatment after the revolution, and instead ordered the US military to free the hostages in an operation codenamed EAGLE CLAW. The plan called for eight USN RH-53D Sea Stallion helicopters to join three USAF EC-130E and three more MC-130E transports at a salt flat, designated DESERT ONE, southeast of Tehran. There members of Delta Force, the US Army Rangers and Detachment "A", Berlin Brigade would transfer to the helicopters for the flight to DESERT TWO, a location in the mountains closer to Tehran, where the groups would remain during the next day. The following evening, the Delta Force and Detachment A troops would board trucks driven by CIA agents to assault the US Embassy and Iranian Foreign Affairs buildings, where the hostages were being kept, while the Army Rangers would capture the abandoned Manzariyeh Air Base to allow two C-141 Starlifters to land and retrieve the hostages and US forces. Support for the operation would be provided by two USAF AC-130 Spectre gunships as well as aircraft from the carriers Coral Sea and Nimitz.

Operation Eagle Claw was launched on 24 April 1980, and almost immediately problems with the weather and with coordination between the various disparate groups surfaced. Only the two MC-130s successfully landed at Desert One, delivering teams of soldiers to monitor the nearby road and supplies to mark a landing strip for the helicopters and EC-130s. Almost immediately after the second group of transports, callsign Republic, arrived, the watch team was forced to detain an Iranian tour bus with 43 passengers and one driver. Shortly thereafter, a tanker truck and pickup later determined to be smuggling fuel attempted to bypass the roadblock and the tanker was subsequently destroyed with an RPG, killing the passenger while the driver escaped in the pickup. The Navy helicopters, callsign Bluebeard, meanwhile, were having equipment and weather issues, with one being forced to land due to a cracked rotor blade. The crew were picked up by another helo while the damaged RH-53 was left behind, but then the flight encountered a haboob, an intense dust storm being driven by winds from a collapsing thunderstorm or weather front. Electrical problems forced Bluebeard 5 to return to the Nimitz, while the remaining 6 helicopters finally arrived at Desert One 90 minutes behind schedule. The last chopper to arrive, Bluebeard 2, arrived with a broken hydraulic system, meaning it was unavailable to continue the mission. Eagle Claw called for a minimum of 6 RH-53s, and the mission commander was unwilling to proceed by reducing the size of the teams. Arguments between the various commands involved further delayed the mission, and finally after two hours and thirty minutes on the ground President Carter aborted the mission. While repositioning the RH-53s to allow them to refuel for the return trip to the carrier, Bluebeard 3 became engulfed in the dust cloud kicked up by its own rotors and drifted into the EC-130, callsign Republic 4, striking the EC-130s vertical tail with its main rotor. Eight servicemen died in the explosion and fire that followed, 5 from the EC-130 and 3 from the helicopter. It was decided at this point to abandon the remaining helos and fly out their crews on the EC-130s, with unsuccessful attempts being made to retrieve or destroy any classified documents, while fears of damage by explosions or shrapnel damaging the transports meant no attempt was made to destroy the RH-53s.

-Disposition of the aircraft just prior to the accident at Desert One. | Illustration: FOX 52

The stinging failure of Eagle Claw resulted in a shake-up of the US DOD, with the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) becoming operational on 16 April 1987, charged with overseeing coordination of the various special operations groups of the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. Additionally, the Army created the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR) (Night Stalkers). with the goal of training Army pilots for low-level night time flying. Another outcome was the creation of the the Joint-service Vertical take-off/landing Experimental (JVX) program in 1981, which (eventually) culminated in the development of the Bell/Boeing V-22 Osprey.

SUPER STOL

Under the code name HONEY BADGER, the newly created Joint Test Directorate within the Office of Secretary of Defense's joint planning staff had been conducting a series of programs and exercises to develop and validate new capabilities for the DOD. A joint USAF-USN-Lockheed program, code named CREDIBLE SPORT, was established less than two weeks after Eagle Claw with the goal of modifying an existing C-130 to land within the Amjadien Stadium across the street from the US Embassy, from which the plane would extract the hostages and Delta Force members inserted to rescue them. The modified Hercules would then take off and head for a USN carrier, where it would land and off load its passengers. The C-130 was chosen as it was the fastest transport capable of landing on an unimproved surface, but the pitch inside Amjadien was only 500 feet long, too short for even the C-130. A contract was signed on 27 June 1980 with Lockheed-Georgia to produce an engineering study on the modifications needed, then to convert three C-130s, one to act as a test-bed and two XFC-130H aircraft to act as primary and secondary on the mission, all within 90 days. A fourth aircraft, an EC-130E Airborne Battlefield Command and Control Center (ABCCC), was used as a mockup of the interior spaces for training. Lockheed's report, delivered on 16 July, indicated that no fewer than fifty-eight standard JATO bottles would be needed to accomplish the mission, far more than was practical, and that an arresting system would not be able to stop the aircraft in the space available. The expertise of the US Navy's China Lake Weapons Station was then tapped for alternative rocket motors. Personnel from all three organizations then worked to modify the C-130's frame to mount the rockets, as well as to reinforce the structure to withstand the stresses produced. Along with the rocket mounts, extensions to the ventral fin filet and horizontal stabilizers were added, along with double-slotted flaps and extended ailerons, a tailhook for landing on the carrier, a bolt-on aerial refueling receptacle, and a new radome containing avionics taken from an MC-130E Combat Talon, including including a Terrain Following/Terrain Avoidance radar, defensive countermeasures, and a Doppler radar/GPS tie-in to the aircraft's inertial navigation system. The most obvious addition to the XFC-130H were the installation of 30 rockets in multiple sets: eight forward-pointed ASROC rocket motors mounted around the forward fuselage to stop the aircraft, eight downward-pointed Shrike rockets fuselage-mounted above the wheel wells to brake its descent, eight rearward-pointed MK-56 rockets (from the RIM-66 Standard missile) mounted on the lower rear fuselage for takeoff assist, two Shrikes mounted in pairs on wing pylons to correct yaw during takeoff transition, and two ASROCs mounted at the rear of the tail to prevent it from striking the ground from over-rotation.

-Line drawing of the modifications carried out on the XFC-130H. | Illustration: Honey Badger

Three C-130s, s/n 74-2065, 74-1683 and 74-1686 were modified by Lockheed and delivered to TAB 1, a disused auxiliary field at Eglin AFB in Florida, with -2065, the test-bed, flying first on 18 September. The first XFC-130, s/n -1683, arrived on 17 October, and between 19 October and 28 October a number of flight tests validated the configuration and abilities of the Credible Sport modifications.

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A full system test with 1683 was then scheduled for the 29th. The takeoff proceeded flawlessly, setting a number of STO records. The Lockheed test crew aboard the aircraft judged that the computer coordinating the firing of the landing rockets was not calibrated properly, and decided to perform the landing under manual control. The upper pair of braking ASROC motors, mounted above the cockpit, could be ignited while the XFC was still airborne (specifically, at 20'), but that the lower pairs would only be fired after the aircraft was on the ground, with the descent-braking rockets being fired after the first pair. During the landing attempt the upper rockets fired successfully, but the flight engineer, blinded by the firings, thought the aircraft was on the runway and fired the lower set early. The descent-braking rockets did not fire at all. Some members of Lockheed test crew's members dispute this, asserting that the lower rockets fired themselves through an undetermined computer or electrical malfunction, which at the same time failed to fire the descent-braking rockets. In either case, the Herc's airspeed was immediately reduced to nearly zero, dropping it hard to the runway. The starboard wing broke between the third and fourth engines, spilling fuel which was then ignited, but a medical evacuation helicopter used its rotor wash to beat back the flames, and crash response teams extinguished the fire within eight seconds. The USAF and Lockheed crews escaped the wreckage with only minor injuries, but 1683 was a total loss. Crews salvaged what had escaped the fire, while the aircraft's fuselage was dismantled and buried on the air base to ensure security.

undefined

-A still from USAF film of the XFC-130H's test landing shows the moment that the first braking rocket fire. | Photo: USAF

-Wreckage of 1683 prior to salvaging. | Photo: USAF

The second XFC, s/n 74-1686, was nearly ready for flight, but the accident, as well as Carter's loss to Ronald Reagan in November, saw the cancellation of Credible Sport. The Algiers Accords of January 19th 1981 resulted in the American hostages being released on 20 January. 74-2065, the test bed aircraft, was returned to its original configuration and resumed regular airlift duties, while 74-1686 was stripped of its rockets, but not the other STOL modifications, and was sent to Robins AFB to act as the YMC-130 prototype under CREDIBLE SPORT II. Phase I testing ran from 24 August to 11 November 1981, and involved certifying minor aerodynamics changes, validating STOL performance and handling characteristics, as well as establishing safety margins. Phase II, which began on 15 June 1982 and ended in October, confirmed that the Combat Talon II design met all program goals and that the aircraft was ready for production. The USAF judged that the cost of returning the YMC-130 to standard configuration was more than it was worth, and 1686 was therefore placed on display at the Museum of Aviation at Robins AFB in Georgia from 1988 to 2018, after which it was transported to the Empire State Aerosciences Museum in NY. 74-2065, meanwhile, remains in service with the Air National Guard.

-74-1686, still showing some of the Credible Sport modifications, on display in Georgia. | Photo: Mike Egan

-74-2065 in 2012, flying regular missions. | Photo: Esa Kaihlanen

[imagineteamfreewill]

Christmas Past

Title: Christmas Past

Pairing: Ghost!Sam Winchester x Reader (Friendship), Past Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore

Word Count: 4,054

Warnings: Ghosts and canonical ghost activity (cold, flickering lights, exploding, etc), some angst, mentions of murder, pre-fic character death (since Sam is a ghost)

Squares Filled: Ghost!Sam (SPN AU Bingo), Little Saint Nick (SPN Christmas Bingo)

Summary: You’ve settled into your new home just in time for Christmas, but you didn’t realize that you’d have guests this holiday season.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​) and the 2021 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo​). I don’t know how I feel about this one, it’s definitely different from anything I’ve written. Let me know what you think! Divider is by @firefly-graphics​

The majority of your boxes had been brought in by the movers hired by your company, and you had never been more thankful for the organization’s generosity. After your flight had been delayed several hours, it was almost midnight and you were fairly certain you’d never been more tired in your life. 

You drag your feet and your luggage up the walkway as your Uber drives away, their headlights cutting through the darkness of your new neighborhood. Very few houses on your street seemed to have Christmas lights up, and the only other light came from a few lights on the garages and from the streetlight at the corner a few houses down. The neighborhood was old, which you’d known before moving in, so the lack of festive decorations outside wasn’t a surprise. Most of the residents you’d seen on your one trip into town looked to be senior citizens. To top it all off, your “new home” was probably older than them. It had been built before the 1900s, and while it wasn’t exactly what you’d been looking for, something about it had called out to you and told you to put in an offer. The sellers had accepted immediately.

Digging the house keys out of your purse, you tug your suitcase up the painted gray steps that led to the porch, then wiggle the key into the lock on the front door. It turns easily and you sigh in relief as you step inside your new house and flip on the light. Unpacked boxes are everywhere, as is your furniture, but the movers had cut off the protective plastic that had been wrapped around your couch before leaving. The foyer is emptier than the other rooms you can see from the doorway, and the faint scent of cinnamon fills the—thankfully—warm air. Your realtor had mentioned to you that she’d done some cleaning after the movers had dropped off your belongings earlier that day and you smile a little at the realization that she’d remembered your conversation about holiday traditions. You’d briefly mentioned that baking cinnamon chip cookies and listening to Christmas classics on your speaker was one of your favorite things to do, and the air freshener you see in an outlet behind the nearest stack of boxes proves that you’d made a good choice when you’d hired the woman to help you find your new home.

After locking the door behind you, you pick up your bags and dump the least important ones onto the couch before heading up the stairs to the second floor. You’ve only been in the house once before, but finding the master bedroom doesn’t prove to be an issue. Finding a place to sleep, however, is definitely a problem. The bed frame had been set up in the middle of the room, but your new mattress is nowhere to be found. You close your eyes, trying desperately to quell the wave of exhausted, frustrated tears that threatens to escape. You've been up for almost 24 hours now and after a long afternoon at the airport, all you want is to collapse onto your new mattress and go to sleep. 

You groan as you dump your suitcase on the floor against the wall and then kneel to unzip it. Your pajamas and bath towel are on top and you quickly grab them and the toiletry bag, then head back downstairs to the master bathroom. As the water heats up, you undress and arrange your things on the countertop. The pipes groan inside the walls as they adjust to the new use. You force yourself not to see if the water comes out brown at first.

The bathroom is foggy when you finally pull the shower curtain around the side of the tub so you can step inside. A gust of cold air through the bathroom makes you shiver and you wrap your arms over your chest, looking around for the air vent. You’re sure that your realtor had promised that the heat would be working hard before you arrived so that the house wouldn’t be too cold for the midwestern winter. The house had seemed warm enough when you’d walked in less than a half hour earlier.

When you turn to look around, you catch sight of the antique mirror on the wall. It’s frosted over with delicate snowflakes in the corners and you frown. Between the heat from the furnace and the water running in the tub, the room shouldn’t be cold enough to have ice on anything.

Maybe it’s just an old house thing, you think as you step into the tub. You brush off the strange frost and quickly shower, then head into the living room. With no bed upstairs in the master bedroom, you collapse on the couch to sleep for the night.

With Christmas looming in the not-so-distant future, you resign yourself to the fact that you won’t have time to find your decorations amongst the dozens of other unpacked boxes scattered throughout your home. You can’t, however, ignore the fact that the holiday season wouldn’t be the same without some of your usual traditions, so you muster up the effort to search through the boxes for your baking things and your bluetooth speaker.

You’re halfway through your list of muffins, cookies, and pies to send to your friends and bring to your office Christmas party when the festive music pumping through your speaker stops. Frowning, you set aside the baking tray you’d just pulled out of the oven and round the island to check your phone. The song had simply stopped playing at only a minute in and you huff, annoyed.

“Stupid internet,” you mutter. You punch your thumb on the screen to skip back to the song before, then skip forward again to the one you’d been listening to. It’s one of your favorites—“Little Saint Nick” by The Beach Boys—and you refuse to skip over it entirely. As soon as the music begins to play again, you lock your phone and set it back down on the counter, then go back to baking. 

Only a minute later, the music freezes again and you look over your shoulder, then angrily toss your spatula onto the counter and stop the mixer.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You grab your phone and open the app. Once again, the music had stopped at exactly one minute in. A chill creeps up your spine and you shiver as you skip to the next song.

Maybe if I let something else play for a while and then go back, you think as you slip the phone into your back pocket. You’d left your sweatshirt in the living room earlier today, and you quickly pull it on as a big gust of snowy wind blows outside. Tree branches knock against the window in the kitchen door and the lights flicker, making you jump.

Please don’t let the power go out, you pray. At least not until I’m done baking.

Outside, the winter storm is only worsening and your lights flicker again. You sigh and head to the kitchen to check the cookies in the oven. Hopefully if the power goes out, it would be after they finished baking. Throwing out a half-baked batch isn’t exactly something you feel like doing, especially not after how hard you’d worked on the dough this morning.

The song ends and you pull out your phone again, circling back to “Little Saint Nick”. After stuffing your phone back in your pocket, you turn the mixer back on and start working on your muffin batter again, only to stop almost as soon as you’d started. The song had frozen for the third time, once again at the minute mark.

“Seriously?”

“Please play anything but that song.”

Shrieking, you grip the rubber spatula tighter and whirl around, staring wide-eyed at the tall man standing in the doorway to your kitchen. He holds up his hands in surrender and gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” you ask. Fumbling with your free hand, you reach behind you and slip your phone from your pocket, clutching it tightly. 

“My name is Sam,” the man replies, his voice calm and even. He stands motionless in the doorway as he speaks, his hands still raised where you could see them clearly. “And I live here.”

You swallow hard and grip your phone a little more. “No, you don’t. Get out of my house.”

His body flickers in tandem with the lights in your kitchen, allowing you to see through him into the entryway for a brief moment. Your blood runs cold.

Oh my God. This can’t seriously be happening.

Sam lets out a wry chuckle and rubs the back of his neck. You flinch, raising the spatula in warning, and he slowly lowers his hand back down to show he means no harm. “Sorry. You’re right, this is your house. But it used to be mine for a long time.”

“Explain,” you order.

He nods and glances out the kitchen door, frowning. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay here, but I promise you I mean you no harm. I usually stick to the attic or my old office.”

Your mind spins with the new information. “So you’re… You’re a ghost. In my house.” Sam nods once more, sharply, and you suck in a breath. “This can’t be happening. There’s no way this is real. This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

The lights flicker again and you shiver despite the warmth from the oven, the furnace, and your sweatshirt. A crackling noise comes from your left and you glance over, narrowing your eyes at the frost that has begun to creep its way across the inside of the large window in the door.

“I’m sorry about the lights and the frost. I don’t exactly know why it happens, but I know it’s my fault,” Sam says, and you look back at him.

“That’s you? And you were turning off my music, too?”

“The music thing was on purpose,” he answers. “But only because I don’t like that song.”

You can’t help the offense that blooms in your chest. You cross your arms, scoffing. “Seriously? You’re a ghost in my house and you have the nerve to complain about my taste in music? You’re dead, dude! You had your time!”

“I have rights too, you know! As an inhabitant of this house, I say that there shall be no playing of “Little Saint Nick”, or any Beach Boys songs for that matter.”

Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms back down and turn your back on Sam, setting your phone and the spatula on the counter. The mixer is still running and you turn the knob to switch it off, then pull your now overmixed muffin batter out from under the beaters and set the bowl in the sink.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “I can’t even get a ghost with good taste in music.”

“I heard that!”

“Good!” you shot back. You don’t spare a glance towards the doorway as you go about cleaning the counters and taking the cookies out of the oven, but when you turn back around to set the tray on the island to cool, Sam is gone.

Maybe I’m hallucinating?

For a few minutes, the kitchen is quiet except the hum of the oven and the howling wind outside the walls of your home. Your music had been shut off entirely at his arrival and you pause at the realization, glancing at your phone on the counter.

Should I?

You reach out, your hand hovering over it.

I could test this, you think. See if it’s really happening.

Before you could think it over any more, you grab your phone and unlock it, then do a quick search. You choose the first song on the list, and almost immediately, the cheerful melody of “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” starts to play through your speaker. It plays for just a minute before it shuts off again and the lights flicker.

“You really don’t like The Beach Boys, do you?” you call. A door slams upstairs and you laugh.

Christmas comes and goes, and you discover that having a ghost in your house isn’t as bad as you’d originally pictured. He never spies on you and true to his word, Sam keeps mostly to the attic and the spare room you’d turned into your own office for the few days where you had to work from home. Occasionally, Sam ventures downstairs to comment on what you’re cooking or a movie you’re watching. You can’t get a handle on when he’d lived because he seems to know a lot about modern pop culture, but his tastes are more antiquated than anyone you encountered in real life.

“Hey Sam?” you ask. You crane your neck back to look behind the couch at where he’s standing against the wall. He raises an eyebrow at you in response, though he doesn’t look away from the TV. “When did you die?”

He freezes and slowly looks down at you. The air grows colder in your living room and you silently pull another fuzzy blanket—you keep several on hand for when he joins you for movie nights—over you.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he replies, and you sigh.

“But you know so much about me. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair that I don’t want to talk about how I died?” Sam scoffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, flickering slightly. “Some people would call that insensitive, Y/N.”

“Oh, come on! How often do people get to spend time with a real ghost? If you’d had a ghost living in your house when you were alive, you would’ve wanted to know all about them!” You sit up and swivel around on the couch, bracing your arms against the back of it.

Sam’s face falls. “I did have a ghost in my house when I was alive.”

“What?”

He looks down and away, staring at the knick in your floors that you’d made when he’d startled you weeks earlier. You’d dropped a plate and it had shattered, taking a tiny chip out of the dark wood in the process.

“Sam, what did you say?”

He sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. “Let’s just watch the movie, Y/N,” he urges, and you shake your head.

“No, I want to know! You said you had a ghost in your house, in this house, and now you’re a ghost here too! Sam, that’s the freakiest thing ever, please just—”

“Enough!”

The lights and TV flicker and your glass shatters behind you. You flinch, drawing your legs up fully onto the couch as you whip around to look at the coffee table where your drink had been sitting moments before. Now, it drips onto the floor and spreads across the flat surface towards your laptop. Pieces of glass litter the table and the floor and you curse, reaching forward to mop up the drink with the few napkins leftover from your takeout. You stand up on the cushion and look around for a glass-free passage to the kitchen so you can get more napkins and the broom. The only safe way out is to climb over the back of the couch, and when you turn to do so, you realize Sam has disappeared.

Sighing, you clean up the mess and turn off the movie. The sky outside has long since grown dark. Your skin crawls as you head upstairs to your room, feeling distinctly unsettled. Sam had been acting weird ever since he’d shown up to watch the movie with you earlier that night. He’d been moody and quiet, and when you’d pressed him to share more, he’d exploded instead of just teasing you like he normally did. Rubbing your hands over your arms, you pull on your warmest pajamas and crawl under the covers. Sleep doesn’t come easily, however, and you lay awake and worry, mulling over the strange interaction until the sun comes up again.

Sam waits in the kitchen for you the next morning. You tread carefully, unsure of how he will react to seeing you again.

“Good morning,” you say, crossing the room. He murmurs the greeting back to you as you start the coffeemaker and pull your normal breakfast out of the fridge. Neither one of you speaks again until your mug is filled to the brim with freshly brewed coffee and you’re seated at the antique table in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Sam finally says and you hum in response. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me an explanation for why you wouldn’t explain?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Sam huffs out a cold breath and you shiver as the white air drifts in your direction. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is, Y/N.” You concede and gesture with one hand for him to continue as you sip your coffee. “I grew up here. We were at the tail end of the 19th century and I was almost 20. I was engaged, too. Her name was Jessica, and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I’m certain that if we’d had more time together, I would have fallen in love.”

“You were engaged to someone you didn’t love?” you ask.

He nods, frowning slightly. His body is more transparent than usual today, you note, as if he had faded away overnight, but the sadness in Sam’s eyes is as clear as day. “It was arranged by our parents. There was a ghost here, like I told you last night. They’d been there for as long as I could remember, and we were friends. Like you and me,” Sam added. “He was one of my closest friends growing up, aside from my older brother.”

You smile a little and take a bite of your food. Sam mulls over his next words carefully and your smile disappears when he doesn’t return it.

“Ghosts get violent, Y/N. We don’t belong in this world, and after some time, we start to forget what it’s like to be human. We forget all the good things that made us who we are and we become… angry. Vengeful. Dangerous.”

“You’re not like that, Sam,” you say, reaching forward with one hand. You place your hand near his on the table, knowing you can’t touch him or he’ll flicker away, but Sam’s mournful expression doesn’t change.

“The ghost got angry one day. He’d grown fond of Jessica during her visits to my family and…” Sam swallows hard and looks out the kitchen door, staring out at your lifeless backyard. The grass and the trees are still waiting for spring, waiting to come to life, and your heart breaks a little at the realization that Sam probably feels the same way. He misses being alive, but he could never have that again.

“He killed her, and then he killed me,” Sam finally tells you. He chokes on the words and when he takes a deep breath, the lights flicker. Your power goes out entirely for a brief moment and you hold your breath, only exhaling when the heater hums to life again. Sam has never been able to shut your electricity off for any length of time before and your throat grows tight at the realization of how strong his grief must be.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Shaking his head, Sam pulls away and floats to the middle of the kitchen. He stands near the island, his gaze still focused outside.

“A man showed up one day. It had been years since we’d died and Jessica and I were tired. We’d been living in the same house as our killer and as soon as the man finally got rid of the ghost I’d considered a companion as a child, Jessica disappeared. The man told me that she’d crossed over. She’d finished her time here on earth indefinitely.”

“But what about you?” you ask. You push your plate and mug away, leaning your arms on the table. “You’re still here.”

Sam nods and looks over at you. “He gave me a choice. I could stay here and live in this house, pretend like my life was normal again, or I could disappear like Jessica did.”

“Why did you choose to stay?”

“He couldn’t promise me that I’d see her again.” Sam looks down at his hands, flipping them over and inspecting them carefully. “But he did promise that someday I would lose touch with who I once was. He said I’d become like the ghost that killed me.”

You shake your head and push your chair away from the table, standing. You close the distance between you in a few quick strides and place yourself directly in front of Sam.

“I trust you, Sam. I know that you would never hurt me,” you tell him. “You’re not violent or malicious or vengeful. You’re just lonely, but you’re funny and you’re smart and you’re a good friend.”

A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Sam lifts his head and fixes his gaze on you. “Thank you, Y/N, but I think… I think it’s time for me to finally go. Jessica might be waiting for me and if she is, she’s waited long enough.”

Your heart aches. Sam was one of the first friends you’d made in your new home, and as unusual as your friendship is, you’re thankful to have such a unique person on your side.

“Sam…”

A shiver runs down your spine as Sam turns, looking over his shoulder. He stares at something, his brow furrowed in confusion, before after a moment, a wide smile stretches across his face.

“She’s there. I can feel her,” he murmurs. He turns back to you, his eyes alight with excitement and a fondness you’ve never seen in him before.

“Jessica?” you ask, and Sam nods. A warmth blossoms in your chest, side-by-side with the sadness at losing your friend, but you embrace it wholeheartedly. “Then you should go. She’s missed you a lot, I’m sure.”

He nods once, glancing at whatever he’d been looking at before focusing on you for what you knew would be the last time. “Y/N, thank you. I know… I know that you’re going to be okay here. You doubt yourself, but you’re a wonderful person. I hope that you live a long and happy life, and that you find love in as many people as you can.”

“Maybe someday we’ll see each other again?” you sniffle.

Sam smiles and reaches out. His hand passes through yours and you shiver at the strange chill that accompanies it. 

“Maybe we will,” he replied. 

He closes his eyes and you watch, squinting hard when his being glows golden and disappears a moment late in a shower of light. You’re left alone in an empty kitchen then, and your home feels strangely warm. You shudder, looking around. You need to leave for work soon, you realize as you glance at the clock, but you pull out your phone and take a seat at the table again. A quick search brings up Sam’s name and picture and you smile a little at the sight. In the picture, he’s standing beside a woman in a long beautiful dress. Sam is wearing the fashion of the age, and you prop your head up with one hand as you try to picture your Sam, the Sam that wore a plaid shirt and jeans. He’d been so hard to place until he’d told you more about his past, and you chuckle a little. 

“You’re an enigma, Sam Winchester,” you murmur aloud. There is no response and it feels strange to know that you’ll never get one from him again, but seeing him with Jessica in the picture soothes the sting. The alarm goes off on your phone, reminding you that you need to leave soon for work to be on time, and you sigh as you close the app.

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Happy Christmas

Summary: A snow day in with Sy ends in more than just reading a good book and watching some crappy tv

Pairing: Syverson / unnamed OFC

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: smut (unprotected sex)

A/N: This is my Christmas Gift to you. Merry Christmas x

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

It had been snowing for three days in a row. Sy finally gave up on shoveling the snow in the driveway yesterday. You both had a blast building a snowman instead, though said snowman was already half covered in a new layer of snow.

“Let’s just stay inside until this all blows over.” He had said last night before he fell asleep, hugging you close. Meeting Sy was the best thing that had ever happened to you. The big texan man loved you so much, he left San Antonio to move in with you in Salt Lake city where you had your own business. A very successful restaurant. The both of you had met at JFK where you both had waited for your delayed flight to germany. You for a cooking class. Him to board another plane to go back to serve for the army.

You never believed in love at first sight but when he picked up your book, after you almost ran over your whole luggage it had knocked you off your feet.

And here you were, three years later laying on your comfy sofa in Sy’s arms. The two of you hadn’t even bothered getting dressed properly. He had gone out in just his boxers getting some firewood in. Like the maniac he was. After he had made sure the fire would last for at least the next episode of his series, he joined you on the sofa. While he watched his series you wanted to finish your book, so you read snuggled with your back against his chest, while he watched TV.  His breath in your neck ran goosebumps over your whole body. One of his hands lay flat on your stomach, keeping you close while his other hand held one of your boobs. Sy loved just holding them. “They fit perfectly. Everything about you is perfect.” He had said after you asked him once, before he had kissed you breathless.

It was Christmas Eve today. Usually you would have spent the day at your restaurant, cooking the most delicious meals, but this year everything was different.

And you enjoyed every single second of it. Who would have thought that it would take a global pandemic for you to finally slow down?

Biting your lip you continued to read your book. It was a cheesy steamy romance novel and Sy so close to you wasn’t making it any easier. The protagonist of the book was asleep in her bed while her husband came home to surprise her after months of being away. Slowly he undressed himself, pulling the covers from her body to find her naked.

You didn’t even notice Sy had stopped watching TV and was reading the lines of the book with you. He had noticed you squirming in his arms, but didn’t want to interrupt your reading. So he read and grinned to himself. He was already half hard from you rubbing your perfect ass against him.

The first thing you noticed while reading was Sy’s hand on your boob as he slowly began to knead it teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. In your book the husband was slowly kissing himself up the body of his wife, while she was still asleep. Sy chose this moment to kiss up your neck, while his hand on your stomach began to move lower. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep.

“Keep reading Peach…” He whispered, kissing you behind your ear while his hand sneaked in between your legs, two of his thick fingers rubbing slow circles over the lace of your panties. Breathing faster you began to rub your ass against his hard growing cock.

Reading became a challenge as he pushed your shirt up to feel your skin, all while he nibbled on your neck.

The wife in the book finally seemed to wake up just when her husband was about to eat her out. Sy chose this moment, still reading with you, to push your panties to the side and push both of his fingers inside of you, making you cry out.

“Kissing her inner thighs he slowly pushed himself between her legs, settling down right in front of what he wanted most. The pussy he had been missing for months…” Sy read the words in your book. Pumping his fingers inside of you while rolling your clit with his thumb, you finally let go of the book, letting it fall to the ground. Reaching behind you put your hand flat on his cock, making him hiss in your ear.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, pushing his boxers down and pumping him just as he angled his fingers inside of you, finding your G- Spot.

“Turn around. I wanna see you.” He whispered back. Pulling your shirt off as you turned around, his hand hooked your leg over his. His lips crashed down on yours, his other arm pulling you close.

“I love you.” You smiled against his lips, your hand finding his cock.

“I love you more.” He smiled back before he ripped the fabric of your panties and pushed inside of you. Kissing him as he pushed in, quietly moaning against his lips your hand flew into his hair massaging the back of his head, making him hum against your lips all while he slowly pushed deeper and deeper.

Sometimes, well most times you liked it rough. And hard. But this, this was about feeling each other. You felt his hand on your ass, urging you closer. Peppering his face with kisses you moaned when his cock brushed over that spot inside of you, that made you feel whole. He stopped when he was fully inside, and you felt so so full. Kissing him again you didn even notice him turning the both of you so he was on top.

“You are so fucking beautiful peach…” He mumbled against your lip before he continued slowly, but deeply pumping into you. You let your hands run up his back, holding onto him like he was your life line.

“All mine....” He growled.

“Ah….” You cried out when he rolled his hips,

“I need…” You breathed. “I…”

“I know what you need peach….” He kissed you again, before he pushed his fingers inside your mouth letting you wet them before he brought his hand down in between your legs, finding your clit. Throwing your head back you cried out, your fingernails scratching down his back.

You were close and you could feel that he was too.

“Open your eyes for me.” Sy groaned and when you did he kissed you again, his tongue diving into your mouth while he continued slowly fucking into you. Warmth spread over your whole body with the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching.

“I’m gonna cum….” Sy moaned. Feeling him release, pumping his seed deep inside of you you cried out, holding him close as your orgasm washed over you, clinging onto him like a koala as your limbs shook.

Out of breath he collapsed on top of you making you giggle as you held him close. Still out of breath he looked at you, seeing you smile at him.

“Do you have more of these books?”  He kissed your shoulder.

“That was just the first book, there are 12 more.” You winked.

“Happy Christmas to me.” Sy grinned, before he pushed himself off the couch to stand. You were cold immediately.

“Where are you going?” You asked pulling your shirt down and pushing yourself up so you were leaning on your elbows.

“Heating up the bedroom for the next chapter.” He winked. Shaking your head you looked after him as he walked naked down the hallway.

Happy Christmas indeed.

[wizkiddx]

i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

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

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream. 

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself)  ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned. 

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes. 

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily. 

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting. 

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.” 

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds. 

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile. 

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out. 

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself. 

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl-  he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it. 

“Will you chill please?” 

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner. 

Home for 5 weeks. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully. 

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came. 

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have. 

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was  so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle. 

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face. 

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.” 

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted. 

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee. 

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. 

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself? 

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers. 

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle  of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side. 

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation. 

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm��; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show. 

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you. 

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning. 

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it. 

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank. 

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open.  Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear? 

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle. 

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced. 

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile. 

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt. 

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head. 

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.” 

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different. 

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle.