#he’s also content with leaving things as they stand - continuing to emphasise how much he loved john without making a statement

[franklyimissparis]

“if paul was bisexual/queer why wouldn’t he just come out by now?” why WOULD he tbh 😭😭 like idk i just think at 81 years old it’s probably not something PR man paul particularly feels the need to share publicly

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Road Less Travelled (Legolas x Reader) (Part 2)

A/N: A continuation of my Fellowship x Pregnant! Reader story, in which you ended up choosing Legolas to help raise your unplanned child. Part 2 can be read without reading part 1 first.

Synopsis: Life with Legolas, your two daughters and your treehouse is perfect, until one night, parental instincts go on ignored, and things go deeply awry.

Warnings: I watched The Conjuring before bed tonight and was unfortunately inspired. Enjoy. Also Legolas is a cute adoptive father send tweet.

Pairings: Legolas x Reader

Word Count: 2610

Rain fell heavily outside, though yourself and your family did not feel said rain. Buried below glorious crowns of leaves, your treehouse was situated securely.

Built into the thick trunk of an Ithilien tree by Legolas’ own bare hands, your treehouse was set with two bedrooms, and resembled an elevated cottage more than anything else. Around the length of the cosy home, a rounded balcony lay.

Leading down from said balcony was an old rope your children used to climb to and from home. One broken ankle later from your youngest twin, however, and a winding set of stairs was built into the trunk below, too — leading up to your balcony.

And indeed, “twins” was right.

Learning on the Fellowship’s journey that you were pregnant with that no-good Brander’s child was shocking enough, let alone discovering at the actual birth that said little baby’s embryo had split into two, providing you with a set of beautiful daughters.

Fortunately, they were nothing alike their biological father in spirit — possessing kind hearts and noble souls instead. Even more fortunately, they garnered your looks. Regarding their appearances, although twins, they each held distinctive differences.

Perhaps the luckiest of all, your old Fellowship colleague, now turned husband, seemed to have the most influence on both Ivorwen and Tobrien — better known simply as “Ivy” and “Toby”.

Rabbit stew, a recipe sent from your Shire friends, was made for dinner that night, as the four of you sat around a wooden table and ate merrily, enjoying the lively atmosphere the warm candles provided.

“There is still hair on the meat!” Ivy insisted, though, the grin on her 9-year-old cheeks gave away her agenda.

“There is not!” Legolas urged back, sharing her grin.

You and Toby laughed brightly, passing a plate of rolls between one another. This argument had been going on since before any of you had even sat down.

Ivy made a show of stabbing a chunk of rabbit and holding it up. “Yes, there is! See? There’s hair on it! You’re a horrible cook after all!”

Legolas made a show of squinting his eyes and leaning across the table to inspect the chunk of rabbit, before settling back into his chair and pressing on.

“That’s most likely your own hair! How many times have I encouraged you to learn my version of braiding?” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his own locks.

Your eyes crinkled with amusement and love, as you watched the dad and daughter exchange teasing words, even if none of those words were actually “dad”, “father” or even “ada”.

“You’re impossible, Varno,” Ivy shook her head, still smiling nonetheless. “Just admit your talent lies in hunting and not in cooking.”

“I resent that accusation,” Legolas playfully warned, pointing a fork at Ivy.

“Varno” was a name both you and Legolas had decided upon. “Ada” reminded him too much of his own father, and “uncle” simply felt too misplaced.

So, instead, “Varno” was decided upon — meaning “protector” in Legolas’ own language, which is exactly what he had been for you, ever since that fateful night by the campfire you’d learnt of your predicament.

Although many of your friends and colleagues that evening offered you their hand in marriage, you had felt a maternal stirring within you. Something told you to choose the best of the best for your unborn offspring, and who better than a steadfast elf to keep you safe?

You had been watching Legolas one night, a few evenings after learning of the life growing within you, with your hand over your stomach.

Although you still didn’t quite have the full comprehension of knowledge behind this, you truly believed, till this day, that both Ivy and Toby told you to “choose that one—he’s our dad”.

Resolute in your mind, you approached Legolas and accepted his offer of marriage. He was ecstatic and gleeful, and then a little boastful to the other suitors. Cockiness befell him for a short while, until your stomach grew and a paternal kick changed him.

He matured overnight and grew from a young archer into an awaiting father, despite the girls not being his. That never slowed him, though—he was a better father to Ivy and Toby than some real dads were to their own children.

He soon married you after the war, and the rest was history.

After you had to break Legolas and Ivy’s “fight” up with a laugh and a motherly warning, the table was cleared.

“All right, dishes to the kitchen, and then teeth,” Legolas announced, quirking a brow in Ivy’s direction as she walked past.

Legolas mouthed to her that their fight wasn’t over, and Ivy made a show of raising her brows once in challenge.

“She gets that from Gimli, I know it. Don’t ask me how,” Legolas whispered to you, as you too walked by.

“Intrusive visits and loud Yules,” you joked, grinning over your shoulder at your best friend.

Grimacing, Legolas winced his teeth with a hiss. “Do not speak of such holidays, let us just enjoy the autumn while it lasts.”

“You don’t want Yule to come soon?” Toby asked, appearing from behind Legolas, and peeking her head around his torso to gaze up in his direction. “What about toys?”

“Galadriel sends the best, and nothing has topped the bow she gave me in Lothlorien eight years ago,” Legolas replied. “Have you brushed your teeth yet, aranel?” (princess)

Toby made a prolonged noise, as she beamed brightly to show off her teeth.

“No, I don’t fall for pretty girls and pretty teeth, thank you very much,” said Legolas shaking his head. “Breath test.”

He bent down and allowed her to piggyback ride him. Standing swiftly, he looked over his shoulder and at her, where she then breathed loudly with an open mouth into his face.

Legolas scrunched his nose and recoiled. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell someone with stinky gums. And I’ve been to Mordor.”

Toby’s eyes grew bright with excitement. “Will you tell us another Fellowship story tonight?”

“Only if you brush your teeth,” Legolas answered, nuzzling his nose with hers.

Ivy walked past again, done with her dishes, and scoffed at Legolas. “Don’t listen to him, Toby. It’s bribery!”

Legolas gently kicked her ankle as she walked by, although, a feather could’ve done more damage—your “gentle giant”, you called him.

“Very well then, tonight I’ll tell you all about the Mouth of Sauron, and why brushing your teeth is important,” Legolas said again, turning around to watch the eldest twin head for the bathroom down the hall.

She waved him off over her shoulder, before disappearing to brush her teeth.

Toby swiftly kissed Legolas’ cheek, before dismounting from the piggyback ride and skipping after her sister.

You watched from the kitchen sink with a warm smile, and wiped a bowl with a dry rag. You observed the ardent love in Legolas’ eyes, as he watched the hall for a minute, where Toby and Ivy could be heard giggling over their dad’s cooking skills.

He finally shook his head and turned to you, wearing a content smile of his own. Catching your warm expression, he walked towards you with a sly question on his tongue.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, returning to the dishes. “But have I ever thanked you for marrying me and helping me to raise those two ladies?”

“Ladies is a stretching term,” said Legolas, coming up behind you with a wrapping of your torso and a burying of his cheek in your hair, as he hugged you from behind, “but no—I don’t think the few thousand times is enough. Could you perhaps tell me once more?”

You melted into his hug, laughed like bright bells, and turned around. Wrapping your own arms around him, you buried your head into his shoulder and embraced him tightly.

“Well, thank you,” you emphasised, teasing him slightly.

Rocking the hug a little, he kissed the top of your head, and responded after a moment. “Actually, it is you all the thanks is owed to—I never assumed a life like this would be possible for me, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” you agreed, squeezing the hug once more.

You both stayed like that for a moment, before he kissed the top of your head again and let go. “You can ready the girls for bed if you’d like, I’ll finish up here.”

You lifted his hand and kissed the back of it, before walking away. Your hands remained held until the distance you walked grew too much, and Legolas had to let go to stay in front of the sink.

He smiled after you, as you disappeared around the wall.

Sighing in tranquillity, as the rain grew outside, Legolas looked out the glass window to his side. All he could make out were tree trunks through the rain and moonlight, and the prince basked in the sense of home for a few seconds.

However, the placid state could only last for so long. Unsure if the girls teasing him all day on their rabbit hunt had just worn him down, or if his eyes were indeed working correctly, a sway of trees exposed a trunk in the distance, where Legolas could have sworn he saw a body scaling.

Narrowing his eyes and knitting his brows, the archer moved closer to the glass window. As his breath fogged up the glass, Legolas moved as close as he dared to the window, observing the distant trunk.

Peering harder and harder, Legolas prayed for the wind to sway the leaves again, so he could view the tree. However, before he had the chance to do so, a quick voice from behind startled him.

“C’mon, Varno!” Toby urged, waving her dad to follow. “Me and Ivy are ready for the bedtime story!”

Legolas jumped on his feet, most unlike an elf indeed, and snapped his eyes over his shoulder to his daughter. Meeting her young gaze, he calmed.

Although, with the odd anomaly on the distant trunk still on his mind, Legolas turned back to the window. The leaves swayed again, and Legolas saw the tree once more. However, this time, no beings scaled the side of it.

He swallowed his nerves and shook his head, as his daughter called him once more.

“Varno?” Her voice was slow and unsure.

Meeting her eyes again, he beamed brightly and ran forwards. Scooping her loudly laughing self into his arms, he spun around and lifted her high—all whilst heading down the hall.

Toby’s laughs and Legolas’ eagle noises alerted you first, as they flew into the bedroom. “Eagle Attack” was a game he’d played with the girls since birth, where he’d lift them high, making them “fly”, and screech obnoxiously.

It usually ended with him gently throwing them down onto a bed or couch, in an effort to tire them out before slumber. Tonight, apparently, was no different.

“Aren’t we a little too old for Eagle Attack, Varno?” Ivy taunted, already sitting cross-legged on her bed, as you brushed her hair beside her.

“I’m over two thousand-years-old, and I still find it fun,” Legolas taunted back. He collapsed onto Toby’s bed with her backwards, leaving the younger twin a laughing mess.

“I do not think that tires them out as much as you believe,” you advised, shaking your head with a smile in your husband and daughter’s direction, who asked for the ride again.

“That’s why I have stories hidden up my sleeve,” Legolas replied. He sat up on his elbows, and smirked at you.

You gave him a playful frown, before finishing Ivy’s hair. Kissing your daughter’s cheek, you began tucking her in.

Legolas readied one candle, and dimmed all the other lanterns, so sleep would find the girls swiftly. Soon, as you tended to Ivy and he to Toby, Legolas’ story began.

It was one you remembered well, and one you also didn’t want to. You appreciated how comical Legolas delivered the story, in a way accessible to children, for there was nothing child-friendly about that war.

It wasn’t long after that, that soft snores from the girls filled the room.

Bringing the woollen blanket up to each daughter’s chin, and kissing their temples, you and Legolas bid them a soft goodnight from the door.

Closing it behind yourselves, you both began the small journey down the hall back to your shared room. He wrapped one arm around your back, and led you safely to the door.

Upon entering the room, you each made your way to your own beds. You had only shared a few kisses on the lips throughout your marriage, usually in times of great emotion, like the birth of your daughters, or the wedding itself.

Yours and Legolas’ marriage was almost entirely platonic, but he loved you more than any other, and you him. Only Ivy and Toby were counted among his other greatest loves, with you sitting safe right beside them.

Although nothing physical or lustful of nature took place between you, your relationship was one of deep devotion, and you had, in your own way, each pledged yourselves entirely to one another.

It was simply the most beautiful friendship, and one neither of you forsook.

Fluffing up your pillow, you rearranged your bed, which was only a metre away from Legolas’ own. He did the same, and hummed to himself slightly over the rain outside.

“This weather is a little intense, isn’t it?” you spoke up, looking at the roof above once in gesture.

He followed your gaze and agreed from behind his concerned frown. “I was almost worried earlier that the roof would collapse, with the leaves now falling and such.”

“For its seventh autumn, it isn’t doing too bad,” you decided, now sliding into bed.

“Agreed,” Legolas smiled, commending himself and his handiwork.

As he slipped into his own sheets, Legolas thought of what he saw earlier scaling the trunk. You were just about to reach over, wish your best friend a goodnight, before turning the candle out, until Legolas’ voice stopped you.

“Actually, meleth nîn—” he called, earning a blinking back of your eyes.

Conflicted over his own words, that same paternal feeling that kicked within him eight years ago drove his instincts. Sucking on his lower lip in thought, Legolas decided to trust whatever his gut was telling him, and lifted his blankets over to the side.

He beckoned you to slide into the covers with him. It was nothing unusual for you both, for many nights you had spent sleeping in the same bed with him. It first started in those early winter days, when your teeth chattered and your bones shivered.

His body warmth provided both solace and security, until you each grew so comfortable around one another that hugging in your sleep seemed as casual as a pat on the shoulder.

You almost went to tease him about being touch-starved or something of the likes, until you saw the look behind his eyes. They were the eyes of a concerned patriarch, and you knew better than to disagree with him.

After all, you knew to trust your own maternal instincts. His were no different.

Without saying a word, you slipped out from your bed and climbed into his, relishing in the warmth of his arms. He kissed the top of your head goodnight, before turning the candle off.

Only a small percentage of the fear within his stomach subsided, but he tried hard to fight it away. Nonetheless, the rain lulled him to sleep, where he then fell into a light slumber alongside you.

That is, until the bloodcurdling screaming of the girls started.

[realcube]

haikyuu boys with a professional volleyball player! s/o 🏆

characters: kuroo, bokuto, kita, oikawa & sakusa 

tw// swearing

thank you anon for this awesome request!

Tetsurō Kuroo

he’d tell all his teammates about you and none of them would care

well, lev would care - he’d be so excited and asking for kuroo to get him your autograph but yaku would just be like ‘you don’t actually believe him, do you? 🙄’

so yeah, yaku would convince lev and yamamoto that you were just a figment of kuroo’s imagination

even thoUGH YAKU KNEW YOU WERE A REAL PERSON BC HE HAD MET YOU BEFORE AND  HE KNEW THAT YOU WERE DATING KUROO AIREBVKZGA he just loved annoying kuroo <3

and he did the job well bc kuroo was definitely annoyed

he’d be waving his phone around, desperately trying to show lev and yamamoto the selfies he took with you but they’d just be like 😑

then he finally convinced you to come visit him at practise to put an end to his humiliation

so you appeared one day and kuroo was so hyped

but not as hyped as yamamoto

he has hot-ppl senses which tingled when you entered the room so he was the first to greet you while kuroo was sitting setting up the nets

he was literally all over you

‘woah 😍 your thigh are so toned’

‘uh thank you ???’

and kuroo was not here for it

‘AYE GET YOUR DIRTY PAWS AWAY FROM THEM!!’

yamamoto fkn shits himself and runs ✌🏃‍♂️💨

then kuroo picks you up bridal style and parades you around the gym, rubbing it in everyone’s face - especially yaku and lev

‘guys, do you see this? my totally REAL s/o! who’s been to NATIONALS!! uhuh. all mine, y’all.’

yaku is so ticked off and definitely goes to snitch him out to Nekomata

and lev is just so awed, ‘(y/n) is real???’

for a moment he thought he was dreaming too until kenma purposefully hit him with a ball

‘put me down, tetsurō.’ you groaned, folding your arms over your chest

he obeyed, gently setting you down on your feet before pecking your lips, ‘ok, well, i should probably get back to practise now - train hard so hopefully one day i can be as good as you.’ he joked, teasingly emphasising the ‘you’.

you playfully punched his arm before turning on your heels to head out, ‘you wish!’

although he’ll always joke about how amazing you are in comparison to him but he genuinely admires you 🤩

Kōtarō Bokuto

he hypes you up to his team constantly

they’ve literally never even met you and they are being asked all these questions from bokuto lol

‘hey onaga, did you see (y/n) at their nationals game the other day?’

onage flinched upon being jump-scared by his captain, then choked out a little white lie, ‘uh yeahhh.’

bokuto’s face lit up, ‘great! they were so amazing during the third set, weren’t they? what was your favourite part?’

onaga froze, ‘uhh- oh, i think i hear anahori calling me to help him practise his sets! gotta go.’ then he proceeded to bolt off

bokuto shrugged it  off at first as he shouldn’t complain bc a teammate dropped a conversation to continue training with anahori - i mean, onaga came to volleyball club to practise so he wasn’t obligated to make conversation with bokuto

but while he was saying his goodbyes to everyone as they left the gym to go home, it hit him-

‘bye, komi! buh-bye, washio! and goooodbyeeee, konoha.’ bokuto let out a relived sigh as he had now finished saying his partings which meant he could lock the gym then go home, ‘wait-- ANAHORI DIDN’T EVEN COME TO PRACTISE TODAY! ONAGA!’

bokuto was deeply disheartened that his own teammate would lie to him - to get out of a conversation about you, no less

he just wanted them all to love you as much as he does

like..he’s your biggest fan!!!

~ even post-timeskip ~

he’d show up to all of your games wearing your jersey and some of the eagle-eyed press would try talk to him

they’d interview him about his own affair or about the MSBY Black Jackals but he genuinely has no interest in talking about that bc today is your day and he is here to support you

‘are you and your team hopeful to attend Olympics despite player Miya’s rumoured injury? and disclose whether these rumours are factual?’

sakusa decked atsumu after he joked about having covid-

the interview shoved and waved a microphone in bokuto’s face while he just stared at them blankly like ◉_◉

after a while bokuto stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth and chuckled, ‘don’t know! but the game is about to begin, shhh!-’ he hushed the interviewer, instinctively swatting the microphone away as he stood up in the stands to cheer for you, ‘WOOOO! GO, (Y/N)!’  

then he turned to the interviewer who stood frozen with a dumbfounded look on his face, ‘THAT’S MY LOVERRRR!’ he screamed into the microphone so loudly that all the press naturally backed off

and please do the same for him when the press approach you at his games 🙏

Shinsuke Kita

ofc he dates a volleyball player player-

he is such an ushijima

he is ushijima if he wasn’t left-handed

he doesn’t really brag about you too often at practise but he feels so proud when you win a game then he comes to practise the next day and his teammates tell him to pass on a congratulations

also he always comes to your games

no matter how minor or how large

you’d think you could both bond a lot over volleyball and you did that in the beginning

but over time - especially when you started playing volleyball professionally - you found other things to bond over and saved volleyball for work

he probably runs a (y/n) stan page AEIVBARTBV

AND YOU’D NEVER GUESS

like he is literally a rice farmer- you are under the impression that he doesn’t even know what facebook is

and he’s good at selling the act too

‘did you see the picture of us i posted on my instagram?--’ you asked, taking another spoonful of your cereal

‘insta what?’ kita inquired without hesitation

then as soon as you exit the room, he’ll log onto his (y/n) twitter stan account

ok ok sorry i’ll stop now

anyway he ALWAYS tries to ensure that the first thing you eat after a big game is something that he cooks

and if you go out with your team to eat after a game to celebrate a victory, he’ll try at act sweet but he’s lowkey shady tbh

‘congratulations on your victory, (y/n). and to many more’ he lifted his glass and so did you

but just as you were about to take a sip, kita interjected, ‘but that is going to be difficult if you keep filling your body with junk rather than healthy, organi--’

‘kita-’

‘ok.’ he took a sip of his drink in your honour

HE JUST CARES ABOUT YOUR HEALTH AND WELLBEING HE’S NOT TRYING TO BE RUDE 😭

Tōru Oikawa

again, when you and oikawa first started dating, volleyball was one of the only things y’all talked about

but now that you were both doing it professionally, it was basically banned in your home

well, the the game itself wasn’t banned but i mean, why would you do something all day then come back to talk about it more?

you both might adore volleyball but everything has it’s limits lol

anyway, oikawa is another one that is extra af when they come to your games

he probably makes a sign and paints his face in your team colours

and when you come out onto the court, he’ll blow you a kiss and if you don’t blow one back he’ll be so offended lmao

bc he always makes a big deal out blowing you a kiss or winking at you as soon as he steps out onto the court

it’s basically a thing he does for good luck at this point

also, if there are ever ppl trying to take pictures of y’all in public- oikawa is the first to make a big show for them

like he’s all up on you 

he’ll dip you then push his lips against you for a passionate kiss, in front of the ppl and they always go fkn crazy

he thinks he is like..Beyoncé famous...which he is not

please humble him 

but nicely 

but y’all only get attention around summertime when you are frequently playing big games 

like if oikawa leaves the house a week you competed in a big game- he’ll literally get swamped with ppl asking about you 

but contrarily, if you both leave the house in winter literally no one would even spare you a glance

on a RARE occasion, someone might sneakily snap a photo but that’s it

so you get the best of both worlds :))

also, if you’re an ace and he’s ever feeling down, if you ask him to set for you for a bit and you compliment one/all of his sets, he’ll literally feel so much better 

Kiyoomi Sakusa 

sometimes you both come back from a rough day at work, slump on the couch and watch TV together

after showering, changing, dinner etc

he’s not nna come anywhere near you if he thinks there is a chance he might be stinky from practise 

he turned on the TV and it just so happened to be on an Live volleyball game in some language that neither of you understood

he’d snake his arms around your shoulders and pull you close to his chest, satisfied by your synced breathing 

he’d press a single kiss against your jaw before shifting his attention onto the channel

you’d lay there in his arms, both of you seeming content in each other’s presence while watching the game

in reality though, neither of you were actually absorbing anything that was happening on the court - you were just staring blankly at the TV

the TV simply served as background noise to your cuddling

tbh he was way more interested in hearing the sound of your heart beat peacefully against his chest 

after a while, if he gets bored, he might finally break the silence by inquiring about your day

but if he doesn’t, you’d probably end up falling asleep in his arms, forcing him to sleep on the couch bc he’s doesn’t want to risk moving and waking you up 🥺

anyway, he’s another one that likes to save volleyball for work then leave it by the door as soon as you step inside the house 

but he’s not as uptight about it as oikawa or kita

like he’ll happily put on a volleyball match for you guys to watch if he thinks the player’s techniques are impressive

also, if the weather is nice, if you ask him to come out and practise with you for a bit and he’ll say yes 🤠

but actually 🤔 now that is think about it, if you guys had a pool in your back garden sakusa would definitely make the most of it

you’ll humbly ask him spike for you on a nice sunny day and he’ll be like

‘volleyball? really? we bought this expensive ass house with a pool which we can only use 4 out the 365.25 days of the year and you want to play volleyball? don’t you do that like..every work day.’

what can i say? man likes getting his moneys worth 🤷‍♂️

‘so is that a no to volleyball?’ you’d ask

*cue sakusa picking you up bridal style and dropping you into the pool*

then you play pool volleyball 👍

as for your games, he turns up in casual wear 😔

disappointed but not surprised

you’ll jokingly be like ‘hey! why aren’t you wearing my team colours? how are people gonna know who you’re cheering for?’ which is fair bc you turn up to all his games with his MSBY black jackals jersey with one of those foam pointy fingers with his number on it

MANS WOULD POINT TO HIS FKN WEDDING RING LIKE ‘our team colours right here.’

[yoonjinkooked]

CHEMISTRY | JHS (3)

PART 3 - ONE KISS

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut (a bit of a slowburn)

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, hot Hoseok who knows what he wants, kissing (is that a warning), the deal is almost made, JK has a bad music taste (not really tho)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls. 

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts since OCTOBER and i finally edited it today because I can’t f-ing get Jung Hoseok out of my head. Sigh. Let me know what you think! I’m balancing this story with others and I hope I’ll have an update for you soon! 

As the days passed one by one you knew that the luxury of avoiding Hoseok is going to escape your grasp soon. Frankly, it’s a miracle you’ve been able to avoid him as long as you have and with Yoongi’s birthday this weekend, you know your lucky streak will break soon.

You didn’t expect it to break before that, not really. But here you were, minding your own business, studying on campus in a makeshift picnic setting and taking in the first proper rays of sunshine of the year, when he popped up from the tree behind you, very clearly cornering you.

And scaring the living daylights out of you too, as you end up clutching your chest and cursing at him while he laughed his ass off at the sight of you freaked out. “You nearly killed me, you idiot. Was it worth it?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he laughs as he plops down on the grass next to you, completely casual, as if nothing between you has changed. To be fair, perhaps it hasn’t, in his eyes. “Let’s be honest here Y/N, I had to ambush you. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” he emphasises and although you wish you could call him out for being overly dramatic, you couldn’t. Leave it to Jung Hoseok to not beat around the bush and call you out directly. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” you mumble, not even bothering to try and deny. That makes him laugh, a sound that sounds so misplaced in your current setting. It feels wrong to openly discuss the awkwardness that has formed between you while he is literally laughing at it.

“You ran out of the cafeteria the other day so fast, Namjoon is still calling you Speedy Gonzales,” he jokes, laughing harder when you curse that traitor under your breath. At least he is joking around with you. You wish he would ignore it altogether, but it could be worse.

“I’m sorry,” you let out a groan, consciously avoiding making direct eye contact with him. “You know I can get awkward like this. It’s not your fault, it’s… all me.”

“Y/N, come on,” he leans closer to you and nudges your shoulder with his. “It’s me you’re talking to. There’s not a single reason to avoid me. We are both consensual adults who wanted to make out at a party. It’s as simple as that.”

This time, you turn and give him a good look, unsurprised to find a content smile on his face. He is bright and positive just like he always is, to the point of it being both annoying and overbearing at times. He has always been a great friend but there were times when his positivity and energy were too much for a grumpy ol’ potato of a person that you are 24/7. Now, however, you are glad for it. Unlike you, he obviously wasn’t beating himself too much about what had happened between you.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re not feeling awkward and I shouldn’t either?” you ask.

“Exactly,” he shrugs. “You are… one hell of a kisser,” his eyes widen in a way that makes it seem like he is shocked by how good of a kisser you are.

“Hoseok, please,” you hiss at him, not even caring if he was telling you the truth or lying to spare your confidence. You are embarrassed and he knows it well.

“I mean it!” he laughs, amused by your sudden shyness – it’s a side of you your friends are not used to seeing, simply because you don’t normally do shit you’re ashamed of, at least not when they are directly involved. And if you do, more often than not, you own up to your bullshit. You’ve had your fair share of moments that would normally be counted as humiliating, only to brush them off casually and move on with your life. Not this one, though.

“You need to stop,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping that this conversation will simply end. “I was drunk, I came onto you way too strong and I am pretty sure I used way too much tongue.”

“If you think that I didn’t find it hot how confident you were that night, I’m afraid you don’t know me well,” he bites back. You are instantly shocked, not imagining him taking the conversation in that direction and also shocked by the nature of his admission too - Hoseok always struck you as more of a hunter than prey. You didn’t exactly keep track of his hook-ups but you were fairly sure that he was the one who initiated them more often than not. “And for the record, it was the perfect amount of tongue.”

Oh good lord. If you knew he would say the things he is saying, you would have tried desperately to avoid him for… well, the rest of your life, really.

“Please stop before I dig a hole for myself, right here, right now.”

“Why are you acting so shy about this Y/N?” he is laughing, once again nudging you with your shoulder, which only makes it more obvious to you how close you are sitting next to each other. Before, you wouldn’t bat an eye. Now, it’s driving you mad. “You know me, I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to, that is,” he adds cheekily.

“Oh, I noticed, my neck had a lovely little souvenir,” you reply before you could realize what you were even saying. There’s no way he’ll let it go now and the worst part is, you don’t even want him to. You’re saying that you do but in reality, you yourself are finding ways to deepen the conversation. This whole thing is crazy and… wrong! “Why are you making it sound like you want to do it again?” you whine, wishing he would just be up for forgetting about it.

“Well… I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

You turn your head towards him so fast, you strain your neck and wince in pain, reaching at it with your hand. “Are you okay?” he asks, wide-eyed and worried, as he watches you rub your neck and grimace in pain.

“Am I okay? Are you okay?” you counter, completely floored by the words that left his mouth seconds ago. You have avoided him because you’re an awkward idiot, not because you thought that he’d be up for a re-run. “Did you just suggest what I think you suggested?”

“To be fair, I didn’t suggest it, I simply said that I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he shrugs.

“Hoseok,” you glare at him, making him laugh. Even now, he laughs.

“I mean… why not?” he shrugs casually and all you can do is stare and blink dumbly at him, reminding yourself that you’re supposed to breathe, too. “If that party showed us anything, it’s that we definitely have chemistry that… goes beyond friendship. I’m not looking for anything serious and as far as I know, you aren’t either,” he continues and after a few seconds of silence, you realize that he’s waiting for some sort of a response from you. Unsure of what to say, you simply nod your head - after all, it is true. You are not looking for a relationship, not after the last two ended in tears and you drowned in vodka and chocolate ice cream. “Why not… take advantage of the opportunity?”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on what that opportunity is,” you’re not sure why you are even asking him that, when you know damn well what he is implying. You suppose that it would settle the last remains of doubt if you were to hear him say it more directly.

“Two single, and if I may add, incredibly good looking, friends who want, or in our case, don’t want the same things,” he cocks his head to the side, a small smile on his face. He looks way too cute for someone who is suggesting you sex with no added obligations. If you are not terribly mistaken and he has something else entirely on his mind. “Why not take advantage of the situation? And the chemistry - holy hell Y/N, you know we have it.”

He’s… absolutely right. Despite being drunk, you can clearly remember how… feverish you felt that night. You just wanted to keep kissing him, annoyed when you had to part for one second to simply breathe. If you had one more drink in you or if there had been fewer people around you, you’re not sure if the night would end with the two of you fully clothed. You have amazing chemistry as friends and you felt the sexual side of it that night. It would be stupid to deny it when you know well how rare it is to simply click with someone in the manner that the two of you had clicked that night.

“We do… but we’re also friends. And you know how shitty deals like these can end,” you point out the obvious. There are millions of books and movies about how ‘friends with benefits’ is a horrible, terrible idea because there’s an incredibly high chance of it ending in tears. “One of us could end up taking that chemistry to the next level and catch feelings. I’m not good in chemistry – I’m an art history major for a reason,” you joke, relieved when it actually makes him chuckle.

“That’s a good point. But we’re also really good friends, Y/N. We know each other well and we talk. If it would become too much for one of us, we could simply… talk. And I’m not suggesting anything… specific. I’m not here saying we should hook up until one of us decides they want to move on,” he tells you.

“Dude, you’re confusing as fuck,” you sigh, laughing along with him. “What are you suggesting then?”

“I’m just saying,” he grunts as he stands up, pausing to wipe down his jeans, while you make a conscious effort of not looking down because... thighs. “The next time you’re drunk, horny or bored, or even all of the above, you know where to find me.”

He looks down at you, the smile gracing his face slowly turning into the tiniest of smirks, before he gives you a wink. And with that, he simply turns around and walks away, leaving you with your mouth open, looking like a complete idiot while you try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Nah, you know damn well what just happened. You have enough dating and flirting escapades behind you to recognize the look of someone who’d be happy to fuck you. The particular someone being Jung Hoseok is what is leaving you absolutely shocked and at a loss for words. As honored as you are and as much as the offer is… incredibly tempting, this is not something you can decide on the spot.

No, because you’re a dumbass. Of course you can’t decide this on the spot but you could decide in a matter of seconds that you want to stick your tongue down his throat and let him grab your ass while you grind on him as if your life depended on it. You weren’t expecting this turn of events and unsurprisingly, you have no idea what you should do about it. It’s tempting, in all the wrong ways, but it is also making alarm bells in your head go off. It could easily end in tears - the real question is, would it be worth it?

It took three full songs for you to start wondering if you have stepped through a time machine when you’ve entered Seokjin’s house. How Jungkook managed to convince Yoongi to let him DJ at his birthday party was a mystery that you at first ignored, but by the time he played that one Nicole Scherzinger and 50 Cent song, you’ve decided to investigate. “How much did you pay him to let you DJ?” you laugh at your friend, who looks up at you and grins, dancing in place with his trusty neon green Beats around his neck.

“Come here baby, hey be my baby, hey be my baby,” he sings at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Fuck Jungkook, please don’t drop out of school, you need that degree more than you know,” you say as you offer a comforting pat on his back.

“For your information, the theme of the party is ‘guilty pleasure’,” he announces with a proud smile. “And Nicole just so happens to be mine.”

“You and me both,” you admit with a huff, turning around to scan the room in the search of Jin - you’ve been looking for him for the past couple of minutes, with no luck. “Did you see Seokjin? He went to make me a drink with the gin from his expensive stash, but it’s been like…  half an hour?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, pointing behind you. “He’s right there with Hobi.”

Those were the only words you needed to hear in order to know what you must do next – hide. You did not bother checking, you did not look back – you simply dropped down to the ground and plopped your ass right next to Jungkook’s feet. “Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” your friend laughs, looking down at you in disbelief. “Are you still hiding from Hobi?”

“No, I’m sitting here because the view of your thighs is nice,” you roll your eyes. “Of course I’m hiding from Hobi! I’m not mentally prepared to deal with him right now. Although, you do have weirdly muscular thighs,” you add absentmindedly - what is it with them and thighs? First Hoseok, now him - do they only do leg days when they hit the gym?

“Stop,” Jungkook laughs down at you. “Are you seriously planning on running from him forever?”

“Not forever,” you shrug casually. “Until the end of the year, maybe.”

“I mean, I can’t stop you… but you do realize that if he finds you here, it’s going to look like you were giving me a blowjob or something?” he pointed out, eliciting another casual shrug from you.

“Good. He’ll think I’m busy and leave me alone,” you offer Jungkook an angelic smile. He knows better than to push you – when you want to, you can be stubborn as all hell and sadly, Jungkook’s has plenty of experience with being on the receiving end of said stubbornness.

You know what he’s thinking – you can tell from the way he shakes his head and decides to ignore your presence by his feet while he focuses his attention to that god-awful playlist of his – you know exactly what he’s thinking and he has a point. You’re pathetic. A coward. An idiot.

You have shamelessly lied to yourself earlier tonight, as you were getting ready for the party. You’ve told yourself, repeatedly, that you are ready to face Jung Hoseok, despite not knowing what your answer is to his suggestion from a few days ago. You have convinced yourself that you were ready to face him. Seeing as you're hiding behind a damn desk, just meters away from him, it’s pretty obvious that you are not.

He hasn’t left your head in days, to the point of even appearing in your dreams, even if he was just on the sidelines. For years, you have been blind to all the gifts Jung Hoseok has to give, and now they’re slapping you in the face all day long.

You want him, that much you’re ready to admit. Definitely to yourself, perhaps even to him. But are you willing to put an entire friendship on the line and go through with that desire? That’s not a question you know the answer to. For the time being, you will just… keep on hiding behind the makeshift DJ booth, until Jungkook informs you that the coast is clear.

“We’re drinking that whiskey tomorrow, got it?” Yoongi asks, referring to the birthday gift you’ve given him earlier, which he had to hide in one of Seokjin’s spare bedrooms, given that the house is full of people who’d drink anything that’d fall into their hands. “You and me, tomorrow night, drinking back at my place. Let’s make it fancy. Wear a beret or something.”

“Why would I wear a beret while drinking whiskey?” you laugh in confusion. “What’s the correlation?”

“Both are fancy,” Yoongi shrugs and after a few seconds, so do you. If he wants to drink expensive whiskey whilst wearing a beret, that’s what you’re going to do. Having a drink or two with Yoongi, in almost complete silence, has become sort of a tradition for the two of you. Compared to the rest of your friend group, you and Yoongi are the quieter, less social ones. How you wound up in a circle of friends that include permanent hyper bunny Jungkook and Mr. Loudest-Laugh-Ever Jin was beyond you.

“Can I join?” you hear Joon’s booming voice. He approaches the two of you, throwing a hand around your shoulder. Glaring, you grab a hold of his hand and move it away from you, watching as Yoongi laughs in confusion at your open hostility towards Namjoon.

“Not you,” you point a finger at him accusingly. “I’m still pissed at you. You haven’t gotten to your redemption ark yet.”

“What did you do now?” Yoongi sighs, looking at Namjoon as if you were not in the middle of the conversation with him.

“I teased her about hiding from Hobi,” Namjoon announces with a shit eating grin. “Guess Speedy Gonzales here doesn’t like to hear the truth.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely avoiding Hoseok,” you admit shamelessly – it’s become obvious now, why would you bother to deny? “I just don’t want to talk about it and you can be one pushy bitch when you really want to.”

“You’re both idiots,” Yoongi shakes his head, sighing. “I truly wonder why I’m friends with you?”

“Well, I buy you good whiskey. Dunno what’s his excuse,” you offer Namjoon one last glare. Deciding you’ve had enough of his judgment and teasing for one night, you beeline towards one of your two safety nets – Sana. As good of a cover Jungkook was, you didn’t want to cockblock the poor boy all night, and he has been talking with some freshman for the last couple of songs. Sana, being practically your only female friend in existence would definitely be more willing to help you out, but by the time you’re halfway towards her, you notice that she is talking to a senior she’s had a crush on pretty much since you’ve met her.

Brilliant. You can either find a new cover or be a cockblocking friend. Whatever you decide to do, you need a drink first. Settling for cheap gin this time around, you venture into the kitchen, ready to get wasted and cursing under your breath at Jungkook’s horrible taste in music, as you are forced to listen to Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ at full blast.

One more drink and it’ll be socially acceptable for you to leave the party. You’ve stuck around for long enough, even managing to enjoy yourself a little bit. Not enough though, not compared to the tension that you’ve been feeling in your gut even before you got here.

“Hi.”

If you were holding your drink, you would have dropped it. Even the sound of his voice is enough to make a shiver run down your spine. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you muster enough strength to turn around and face him.

Nope, that wasn’t enough strength. You needed more. You needed more to face Jung Hoseok, in ripped skin tight jeans, a black shirt with a v neck, messy hair and a smirk on his face, casually leaning on the wall next to the kitchen door. You could have taken an hour to collect yourself and prepare for your pending doom, and it would not be enough to prepare you for the Hoseok you were facing now. Especially when he is smirking at you, looking at you like he knows exactly what thoughts are roaming around your head. Add to that the horrible soundtrack courtesy of Jungkook, and you are overcome with a sudden wish to die, right here, right now.

“You’ve been avoiding me again,” he points out the obvious.

“And you’re cornering me again,” you argue back, hoping that he didn’t notice you gulping, literally gulping.

“I’m not cornering you,” he chuckles. Your eyes go wide when he stands up straight, no longer leaning on the wall. Slowly, he starts walking towards you and you walk backwards right into the table, no longer having room for an escape. He stops in front of you but he’s too close, too close for comfort, to the point of you being able to see a single freckle on his nose, despite having a decent amount of alcohol in your system already.

“Oh no,” you suddenly move to the right, towards the door, towards your escape. “Stay away from me, Satan!”

“Satan?” he laughs in disbelief.

“Yeah, Satan,” you confirm without a second thought, looking at him up and down. “Did you look into the mirror before you left your house? You’re sex on legs, Hoseok. So yeah. Satan.”

“For someone who’s about to run for the exit, the words you’re saying are making me think you don’t really want to do that,” he laughs, although he doesn’t step any closer to you. As ready as you were to call him Satan just seconds ago, you see his true good self shining through. He’s chasing you, very obviously so, but he is not pushing you too far and you know that he’ll recognize if he actually should step away. He doesn’t want to literally make you run in the opposite direction and the space he leaves between you is confirmation of that.

“You think I don’t want to run?” you ask and immediately he nods. “Maybe. You’re here. You’re hot. For some reason I can’t fathom, you want something with me. That’s inviting, yet very scary at the same time.”

“And do you want something with me?” he asks, no longer smirking.

“Honestly? Yes and no,” you answer, cursing yourself in your mind – alcohol always makes you talk more than you should. But in this case, maybe that’s exactly what you need - just a little bit of honesty. “I’m attracted to you, you’re an amazing kisser and we’re both single. Why not? And the answer to that question is simple -  we’re friends. There’s… way too much at risk here, Hobi.”

“We’re better than that,” he shakes his head immediately. “We’re not stupid, horny teenagers. We know each other well. We’d be mature enough to stay friendly, or at the very least cordial, no matter what happens.”

Both of you do have a reputation of remaining friendly with your exes. Except for your last one, but that’s a story you don’t wish to revisit, especially not tonight. Broken hearts mend with time, people grow, find others and life goes on. If you set the terms the way you both want them, in theory, it truly doesn’t have to end in tears.

“What exactly are you offering me? And miss me with that ‘whatever you want’ bullshit you offered me the other day,” you interrupt him, chuckling when he closes his mouth dumbly, obviously having been ready to say just that. “Do you want to make out? Do you want to fuck me? Once or on a regular basis? To kill time until someone better comes along or in the hopes of it becoming more? I can’t make a decision if you don’t tell me exactly what you want, Hoseok,” you tell him. You were honest with him and now, it’s his turn.

“I want you.”

“Effective, but not effective enough,” you mumble, ignoring the stirring in your stomach that started as he said those words with… earnesty, with meaning. Hearing that you are wanted is always a good fluff up for an ego, but to hear it said like that, dead seriously, by someone you find incredibly attractive? It’s so good, it’s borderline painful.

“I’ll take what you give,” he shrugs casually. “What do you want?” he throws the question back at you. Shameless is what he is.

“A husband, two kids, two dogs and a house with a white picket fence?” you joke.

“Y/N,” he glares playfully at you, laughing. “You might want that down the road but do you really want that now?”

“God no,” you snort in response.

“So what do you want now?” he asks again. “It can be a one-time thing. It can be regular. As you said, we can kill time until someone better comes along,” he rolls his eyes at the phrase, obviously not liking the sound of it. “It doesn’t have to be sex, for all I care. We can just fool around at parties. Or we can pretend like none of this ever happened and just continue being just friends,” he shrugs.

“When you say it like that I wonder if you even want anything from me,” you laugh.

“Y/N, I have barely been able to stop thinking about kissing you ever since that night,” he deadpans, looking straight at you, not a trace of teasing or joking on his face. “Which was pretty horrible, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me and I had a molecular biology paper to finish. I do want you, probably more than you realize or want to accept. And I’m taking whatever it is that you offer. If I had my pick, we’d be friends that… occasionally become more than that.”

“So, to put it in simple terms, you want a friends with benefits thing with me?” you ask.

“Yes. But if you don’t want that, I’ll respect it and stick to it. You’re my friend, Y/N,” he smiles at you and it’s almost calming to be on the receiving end of his genuine smile and not that evil smirk that does things to you. “I’m not losing that friendship if I want to fuck and you don’t. So… whatever you want to do, that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Here you are again, faced with an opportunity that you know will likely end badly for you, perhaps even both of you at once. And again you wonder, if all the possible negatives are worth it - worth of finally succumbing to this sudden and overwhelming desire you feel for Hoseok. Turning his offer into reality… is it worth it?

“I need to think about it,” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m not thinking straight right now. I’m not wasted, I’m just… hazed. Horny. However you want to call it. And I don’t trust my judgment around you right now. If we go through with this, I need to have a clear head when making the final decision.”

“Take all the time you need,” when you open your eyes, he’s smiling at you still. “I do have two tiny requests, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Please stop hiding from me. It’s weird and I think you’re scaring Jungkook,” he grimaces.

“You saw that?!”

“Of course I did,” he laughs. “It was cute.”

“Stop!” you order him.

“Okay, okay, I’m stopping,” he lifts his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “I’m pretending you didn’t duck and hide when you heard I was around,” he laughs. The fucker knows how embarrassing it is for you and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“What’s the second request?” you ask, desperately wanting to change the topic.

“Would you let me kiss you again?” he asks.

“Hoseok…” both your words and eyes are warning, as it’s going directly against what you want right now - a clear head. Kissing him would muddle it all, you know it. Not to mention how easier it would be to take things a notch further, given that you both know now that you want more.

“Just one kiss,” he elaborates. “It’s not gonna turn into a kitchen make out session or something more. And if you don’t want it, it’s not happening. We’ll never do something you don’t want, Y/N. You know me, I’m not like that.”

You do know him and you clearly remember him refusing you at first because he thought you might have had too much to drink and were acting out. You didn’t, you were well aware of what you were doing. Yes, you had no idea why you were doing it but your actions were not a drunken side-effect. Not then and not now. And damn it, you really want to kiss him again.

“One kiss,” you lift your hand in warning, but that was enough for him. He takes a few steps and closes the distance between you – was he being deliberately slow or were you imagining things, you’re not sure. All you know is, it lasted enough for your heart to start going into overdrive even before your lips met his.

It’s just a kiss, but at the same time, it isn’t. He’s not grinding against you, he’s not groping you, he’s not taking it anywhere it shouldn’t go. His hands are in place on your waist, gentler than you remember them being the last time. He’s respectful and careful, in every way except with the actual kiss. Before you even get to mentally prepare yourself for it, he parts your lips with his and tongue meets yours.

You’re the one who moves. You’re the one who threatens to take this further than it should go, as you put your hands around his neck and run your fingers through his hair, pressing your body just a bit closer to his.

It’s his fault. His kiss made you do it. He’s way too good of a kisser for his own good.

Thankfully, the one who initiated it is also the one who pulls away. Breathless and with eyes on your lips, Hobi moves away, letting your hands drop out of his hair as he keeps a safe distance.

“One kiss,” he repeats your earlier words. “Until you tell me you want more.”

Yeah, it meddled with your mind. Despite telling him you need more time to think about it, you know it’s already settled in your mind. You’ll definitely be coming back for more.

[capcarolsdanver]

A Christmas Carol

Summary: You’re left with the disappointing fact that you will likely be spending yet another Christmas without your girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Your friends offer you support, but all you really need right now is your girlfriend to return from space to be with you for your favourite holiday. Can you count on a Christmas miracle? Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Well... it’s not quite Christmas still, but I severely underestimated how busy I would be over the holidays, so please enjoy this late Christmas fic! Feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think! Please do not repost any of my writing anywhere else without my permission.

The annual Avengers Christmas get together is in full swing, and your eyes sweep out across the room to all of your closest friends around you. Of course, everyone’s having a great time, and the open space of the large party hall at Avenger HQ is full of laughter and joyous chatter amongst the guests.

Thor, who still doesn’t exactly understand Christmas, just seems happy to get to spend time with his favourite people. He brought along a generous supply of Asgardian alcohol for those who have what would be classified as a very high tolerance to alcohol, so as expected everyone is in a very joyous mood.

You yourself had found a spot on one of the couches surrounding a small table and had barely moved the whole night, feeling more in the mood to spectate in the festivities rather than participate this year.

Not to say that you’re sitting on your own in some miserable slump, because you are genuinely trying to enjoy everybody’s company, but you can’t deny the Carol-sized void that is particularly evident anywhere you go. Especially during the holidays.

As if to emphasise it, Steve, who’s sitting opposite you from across the small table, catches your eye.

“So, Y/N. When’s your lady coming home?”

He asks you kindly, with a warm smile, as Steve always does. Despite this, you can’t help it when your own smile falters and everyone sitting in your immediate proximity grows quiet, regarding you with sympathy.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve rushes to say when he seems to realise his mistake.

“No, don’t be,” you’re quick to reassure. “I knew what I was getting into when I started dating Carol. I can’t exactly expect space crime to conveniently stop in time for the holidays, can I?”

You choose not to bring up that this will be the third Christmas in a row that you have to spend without Carol, but you still feel the pity practically radiating from every person in the group.

“Okay, who else thinks it’s time for shots?” Sam yells loud enough to be heard over the music by everyone, and the group seems to loudly agree. You remind yourself to thank Sam later for successfully shifting everyone’s attention from you.

Everyone scrambles to each grab a shot. You remain seated on the couch, and moments later Nat takes her own spot on the couch next to you and presses a shot glass into your hands just in time for everybody to simultaneously start counting down from 3.

Somewhere between shouting and cheering, everyone downs their shots, and you all seem to collectively wince. You and Nat both grimace at the burn of the alcohol and it manages to get a chuckle from you.

Nat drops her shot glass on the table before she turns to face you again.

“So. Real talk,” she raises an eyebrow as if warning you not to try to back away from the conversation. “When did you last speak to Carol?”

“A couple weeks ago,” you admit, sighing. “She left on some mission about a month ago. But you know how it is when she’s working up there. It’s so hard for either of us to contact the other.”

Nat smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.” She pats your knee and you shrug at her, though you feel like you’re able to let your guard down a bit now that everyone else in preoccupied.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you let out, feeling Carol’s absence hit you all over again. Your eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill over.

Unexpectedly, and uncharacteristically, Nat pulls you into a hug. You give yourself little time to think about her rare show of affection before you gratefully wrap your arms around her and rest your chin on her shoulder.

“Did she tell you how long the mission might last?”

You shake her head. “No, she just said she might not be able to contact me until she was done.”

“Okay, I think you need another drink,” Nat says, releasing you from her arms. “I’ll be back.”

You quickly wipe at your eyes at the chance of any rogue tears that managed to fall and smile at her before she stands up and heads towards the bar.

————————

On the morning of Christmas Eve, you wake up with a start to some kind of commotion going from somewhere outside the room. You quickly survey your surroundings, remembering that you had decided the previous night to just stay at Avengers HQ after the party, like almost everyone else had. You’re in your old room that you used to live in before you and Carol had moved out together.

The commotion that had woken you up appears to still be going on if the shouting from somewhere outside your closed door is any indiction, so you begrudgingly get up to go investigate.

You follow the loud intrusion of sound into the kitchen, where you aren’t all that surprised to find Bucky and Sam shouting and gesturing wildly at one another.

“Dude, don’t lie. You literally stole my pop tart straight from my plate!” Bucky looks livid. Opposite him, Sam throws his arms out away from his body, matching Bucky’s outrage.

“You have no proof, you moron.”

“Why do I need proof when there was no one else around? It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

You continue watching their exchange, entirely unsurprised that they are blowing up over something as small as a pop tart. You’re half considering just heating another pop tart to shut them up when Nat leans on the wall next to you, taking a sip from her steaming mug of coffee while her eyes also land on the boys.

“Bet you’re glad you don’t wake up to this kind of thing everyday in that fancy apartment of yours, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you laugh. Though, of course, you probably do prefer waking up to these regular early morning antics from the boys than to the empty silence of your apartment whenever Carol isn’t there with you.

“You’re still coming with us to look at Christmas lights tonight, right?”

To be honest, you’d completely forgotten about Steve’s plan for you all to go on some Christmas light trail that night, and although Christmas is generally your favourite holiday, you find yourself not really in the mood to celebrate it this year.

But then again, anything to take your mind off of Carol’s absence sounds appealing to you right now.

“You bet.”

————————

You trail the group, looking around you at all the incredible Christmas displays people have decorated their homes with. There was absolutely no denying how beautiful the entire street is, but as much as you try you just can’t seem to get out of your own head.

Steve’s leading the group and you can hear them all excitedly chatting, pointing out particularly well decorated houses, but you’re content to linger towards the back of the group and take everything in on your own. You know you’re lacking the Christmas spirit needed to participate with them right now, anyway.

A solid hand is suddenly falling around your shoulders, successfully shaking you from whatever broody train of thought you were on as you almost jump out of your skin. Your head snaps to the person you were now attached to, seeing Thor’s wide smile. He tugs you closer to him in an almost brotherly fashion.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is,” you manage, after your heart beat finally slows back down to a normal rate again.

“Ah, you’re yet to hear from Carol, I presume?” Thor asks. You’ve gotta give him credit. As much as he’s completely enthralled by the Christmas lights surrounding you, Thor can still pick up on your solemn mood with remarkable ease.

“You presume correctly.”

You see Thor hesitate for only a moment before he speaks. “Might I offer a few words, Y/N?”

“Sure,” you say, sighing. What could you lose from hearing what he has to say? Plus, the Asgardian usually provided you with some pretty solid advice.

“Please give Carol a little patience. I know firsthand how difficult it can be to communicate with you all while I’m not here.” You soften at Thor’s words, not even aware of how tense your body was. “You all are my family. And it hurts when I’m unable to talk to any of you whenever I’d like,” he explains. “So, please just remember that Carol is likely just as anxious to speak with you as well.”

“Right,” you say more to yourself. Thor’s words somehow do make you feel some kind of comfort in the fact that Carol wasn’t choosing to go so long without talking to you. Not that you thought she was, but the reassurance helps.

Thor squeezes your shoulder in comfort and loosens his grip from around your shoulders, but before he can leave your side again you grab his arm.

“Thank you, Thor,” you say sincerely, and he gives you an understanding smile before leaving you to your own thoughts again.

At some point a little later, Steve seems to notice from his spot at the front of the pack that you’re still lagging behind, because he drops his pace to fall into step with you.

“Are you having a good night, Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you smile. As distracted as you’ve been, it’s hard to miss how much fun the others in your group are having. “Thanks for organising this, Steve.”

He returns your smile and nods. “Well, for most of us, we’re all we’ve got. I figured it was time to start making some traditions of our own.”

“Well I like that sound of that,” you say. You really do appreciate everything Steve does for every single one of you, and he was right. You are family. Personally, if it weren’t for the Avengers, you would have no one else. You know the same applies for many of you, the man you were currently talking to included.

“Hey, listen,” Steve says in a considerably more careful tone. “I wanted to apologise again for bringing up Carol last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassure him, shaking your head.

“I know, but-” He shrugs. “I just feel bad about bringing her up when we were supposed to be getting into the Christmas spirit last night. I mean, what is this, your second Christmas without Carol?”

“My third, actually,” you mutter, clearing your throat and dropping your eyes to the pavement in front of you.

“Shit, here I go again,” he curses, watching you. “I’m sorry.”

“Steve, stop apologising,” you say firmly. “Seriously, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

You take a scan of your surroundings. The street sign catches your eye and you realise you’re only a few blocks away from your apartment, which sounds like an awfully appealing place to be right now. You were exhausted from your previous late night, plus, what little Christmas spirit you did have has been all but spent this far into the Christmas light trail.

“Oh, you know what? We’re pretty close to my apartment. I think I might call it a night.”

Steve’s eyes widen and his features settle into a look of guilt. “You aren’t going to come back to HQ with the rest of us?”

“Nah, I think I just want to head home. I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh man, I totally ruined your night, didn’t I?” Steve shakes his head at himself, his look of guilt deepening even further. “I can’t believe I brought Carol up again.”

You interrupt Steve’s inevitable continued apologies before he can even start.

“Steve, no. My brain was never going to turn off tonight, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if none of you mentioned Carol the entire day, I still would have thought of her.”

Steve looks fairly unconvinced, still clearly internally scolding himself. Though you notice his features soften and eventually he nods.

“Do you need someone to walk with you?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s really not far at all.”

“Alright,” he hesitantly agrees. “But we’ll see you in the morning to exchange gifts and everything, right?”

“Right,” you laugh. “Hey, do me a favour and let everyone else know I left early. Nat would never let me leave a group activity early if I told her I wanted to.”

“No problem,” Steve laughs.

You give his forearm a quick squeeze in thanks, waving to him before you make your way towards your apartment.

————————

You’ve barely even made it a block before your phone starts ringing. You fish it out from your pocket, assuming that it’s Nat, calling to berate you for leaving the group early. Without even checking the caller ID, you answer.

“I don’t want to hear it, I’m not coming back,” you say, not leaving opportunity for the person on the other line to get a word in first.

“Coming back to where?”

The voice on the other line is not Nat. In fact, it’s the last voice you were expecting to hear tonight.

“Carol?!” You practically squeal into the phone, stopping dead in your tracks.

“Hey, baby,” she says and you instantly melt, having gone weeks without hearing her voice.

“Oh my god. Hi,” you greet back, feeling like you could burst into tears at any given minute.

“You okay there?” You can practically hear her smirk and the image of it in your mind makes you smile.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe I’m hearing your voice right now.”

“Well you better believe it, babe, because it’s definitely happening.”

Your brain finally recovers from the shock enough to ask a vital question. “Wait, does this mean your mission is over?”

“Mmhm,” she confirms. “Finished a couple days ago, actually, but this is the first chance I’ve had to be able to call you.”

You can’t help the sudden hopefulness that you feel. If the mission ended a couple of days ago and she was already on her way back to Earth, then it was entirely possible that she could be back within the next day.

You let out a deep breath, your emotions almost getting the best of you. With your mind racing a million miles a minute, you subconsciously start taking some more steps forward. The snow beneath your feet crunches slightly with every step you take.

“Where are you?” She asks curiously, and you assume she’s heard the sounds of your footsteps.

“Uh, I’m on my way to the apartment.”

“Wait, you’re walking to the apartment? Alone?!”

“Hey, I can handle myself,” you chuckle. “I am an Avenger, remember? Besides, I’m only a couple of blocks away.”

“Oh yeah?” Her voices lilts slightly. “Why are you even walking the streets at night, anyway?”

“How do you know it’s nighttime? Doesn’t everywhere look like night in space?” You can’t help but tease and Carol laughs.

“Well, is it nighttime?”

“…Yes,” you admit. “But that’s nothing more than a lucky guess.”

“Uh huh,” Carol replies, and you can hear her smirk through the phone again. The things you would do to see that smirk in person at this moment…

“Anyway,” you interrupt your own train of thought. “I was with everyone up until a few minutes ago. We were out looking at lights.”

“Lights? What kind of lights are so special that you’ve gotta go out in a group to go look at them?”

You’re left dumbstruck for a moment. She surely hasn’t forgotten what time of year it is, has she? You’d only reminded her about a month ago, and she knows how much you love the holiday. You assumed she would have remembered.

“We were looking at Christmas lights,” you clarify.

“Oh. Well now it makes sense,” you laughs. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be looking at Christmas lights, though?”

You’re hit with the fact that she’s actually forgotten what time of year it is. You try to shake off the sudden disappointment, though you’re a little too aware that if she has forgotten the date then she likely hasn’t begun her journey back to Earth just yet either. Which means another Carol-less Christmas for you once more.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you eventually mutter into the phone.

“It is?” She sounds vaguely surprised at your clarification. “Huh. I guess it’s pretty easy to lose track of time up here.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“So you’re heading back to the apartment?” She continues on as if you hadn’t just revealed to her that your favourite holiday is mere hours away. You can’t exactly be mad at her, though. As she said, it’s easy to lose track of time while she’s doing important work up in space. “Why not HQ with everyone else?”

“I just felt like being home, I guess,” you explain. “I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit and we were pretty close to the apartment, so I decided to head home early.”

You hear Carol hum in acknowledgement as you use your keycard to get into your apartment building. You start up the flight of stairs leading to your apartment.

“So, when do you think you’ll be back?” You can’t help but ask. Realistically, you have known for weeks that Carol likely wouldn’t make it back in time for Christmas. Though, with Christmas Day only a few hours away, and your short-lived hopes of her returning any day now, the disappointment of her not being here is fresh once again.

“Soon,” Carol says vaguely and you frown.

“Soon? That could mean anything,” you complain. “Don’t you have at least some idea of when you’ll be back?” You can’t help the slight bite to your tone, the frustration of everything seemingly growing by the minute.

You fumble with your keys, your current conversation leaving you preoccupied enough to struggle with the basic task of locating the correct key on your keychain to grant you entrance into your apartment.

“I don’t know, babe,” you hear Carol say and you finally unlock the door, pushing it open and walking into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Her voice sounds suddenly different, louder, and you twist around on the spot until you’re facing your living room.

You gasp when you see her. Carol is standing beside your Christmas tree. Her eyes are on you and she still has her phone pressed to her ear. The only thing that rivals the bright lights of the tree is her wide grin, bright enough to light up the room all on its own.

Your wide eyes refuse to blink as you look back at her. You’re suddenly all out of words.

You watch as Carol takes one step closer, and then another, until she’s closing the distance between the two of you. The closer she gets to you, the softer her smile grows.

“You’re here,” you whisper into your phone. Carol lowers her own phone, coming to a stop directly in front of you.

“I’m here,” she returns, her own voice barely above a whisper too.

“Hi,” you say dumbly and Carol smiles adoringly at you. She gently takes your phone from your hand and drops it down onto your couch along with her own.

“Hi.”

Before you know what you’re doing, you abruptly tackle her in a tight hug. If she weren’t Captain Marvel you might have been worried about her balance, but she remains steady, wrapping you up in her strong arms.

Without even realising it, tears are spilling out of your eyes and running down your cheeks, and you let out a deep breath you weren’t even aware you were holding, pressing your face into Carol’s neck and breathing in her scent. You feel the lightest you’ve felt in months.

Carol hears your sniffling and takes a step back to look at you. She keeps ahold of your sides.

“You okay?”

“Are you kidding?” You choke out a laugh amidst your tears. “I’m more than okay, Carol. What are you even doing here?”

You still can’t believe your eyes. You can’t believe that the love of your life is standing right in front of you when only moments ago you still believed that she was in outer space.

“What, you really thought I’d let you spend another Christmas without me? It’s your favourite holiday, you know?” She lets go of her hold on your left side to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “You know how much it killed me having to miss the last two Christmases with you.”

You shake your head in disbelief, completely in awe of the woman in front of you.

“I love you so much, Carol.”

“I love you too.” She barely has time to get the words out before your mouth is pressed against hers in a kiss that’s long overdue. You only pull back for a moment when your smile literally grows too big to continue kissing Carol. You both break into laughter, giddy at the joy of finally being together again.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You say the words that repeat over and over in your mind. Carol’s intense gaze regards you and she smiles at you sweetly.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Carol,” you reply before your lips are meeting hers again.

————————

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Christmas carols playing from the living room and the smell of fresh coffee drifting in through your open bedroom door. You can hear Carol softly singing along to the music, and you smile sleepily.

Nat was right. You’ve never been more glad to wake up to the sounds of your apartment than you are right now.

[yeochikin]

chamomile & strawberry. | p. seonghwa

a/n: thank you so much for requesting, @exosnoona29​! i’m sorry it took a little while so thank you for being patient! i hope you like this ✨💖 also, tagging @hwanami​ since i know she’s whipped for hwa 🤠

the smell of freshly baked pastries mixed with a tint of brewed tea leaves wafted in the air and into your nose. the sounds of birds cheerfully chirping created a little melody featuring the small wind chime right at the arch of the doorway your hand reached up to wipe away the thin sheet of sweat forming on your forehead from the sweeping you did. with both hands on your hips, your eyes scanned throughout the entire room for a few seconds, making sure no spot was missed and tables all clean, you beamed to yourself afterwards once everything was neat. with a quick fix of your messy hair, it was time to open your little tea house.

living in a small village just at the outskirts of the nearby city, you never figured that your tea house would make quite an attraction. everyone would always refer to you as the residential tea maker, admiring the way you would pour different scented teas into a cup that was paired with a matching teapot and saucer. maybe that was what interested everyone in this small town you lived in. though you would have to admit, with the amount of various themed tea sets you have, you would be sitting in the tea house as well to admire them. but of course, you would always think that it was because your grandmother had passed this tea house. 

ever since your grandmother had passed on, you were the one who took her place as the tea maker. she had always been the one to take care of you since you were little every time your parents were too busy with their work, sometimes having to spend a night or two, depending how busy they were. you remembered watching your grandmother brewing your favourite chamomile tea when you had a nightmare, sometimes even letting you help just to take your mind off of the bad dream you had. you were always found sitting near the window of this exact tea house to talk with the customers stopping by the tea house, a chatterbox was what your grandmother had called you, not wanting you to disturb the customer yet they couldn’t help but to see you as an endearing child. you had promised your grandmother that one day, you wanted to be a tea maker just like her when you grew up, even wanting your own tea house in the city. and fast forward to the present, you had fulfilled your promise. despite not being in the city, you were content with what you have.

your hands were busy cleaning the shelves filled with jars of tea leaves until a sudden ‘ding’ rang into your ears, indicating someone had stopped by. you blinked a few times in confusion, not expecting a customer to come by so soon just a few minutes of opening up. without wasting time, you made your way to the door to greet your first customer of the day with a slight jog in your steps. standing near the counter, you noticed a tall person curiously gazing around the tea house of yours with his back facing you. he must have heard your voice before turning around, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

there, a pair of gorgeous dark brown irises held your gaze, a honey-ish tinted hair styled in a slightly messy manner yet somehow still looked good on the male standing in front of you, his lips a bit pinkish that reminded you of the lingering colour after eating a fresh strawberry flavoured drink. somehow, he managed to pull off a loose white shirt and washed denims so effortlessly stunning on him, topping it off with a chain-like earring on one of his ears and a few rings adorning his long fingers.

you must have been staring at him for a little while since the said stranger waved a hand, albeit awkwardly with a little smile on his lips, making it seem as if he was in a cross between confused and awkward. With a shake of your head, you returned the smile with your own out of sheepishness, bowing your head ever so slightly.

“s-sorry, welcome to the tea house!” you managed to say, already hitting yourself in a number of times from the slight stutter in your words. a low chortle soon resonated in your ears, though a tinted red from being flustered, you looked up at the man. he merely shook his head and reassured you that it was alright, but instead, apologising for making you startled since he mentioned how frozen you were for a bit, effectively making you want to bury yourself in a hole as to how obvious you were and quickly coming up with an excuse.

“i was just surprised at how i could have a customer already, considering that i just opened up.” you retorted.

“ah, is that so? I happened to come across this place from my morning walk, and i guess i couldn’t help but to admire your tea sets that are on display.” he said. You couldn’t help but to notice how it was rather deep yet had some type of calmness in the timbre of his voice. It was then, a sudden thought came to you. Come to think of it, you had never seen this man before from the years of living in this small town outside of the city. 

“are you perhaps.. new around here? i haven’t really seen you around before.” you decided to ask with a slight tilt of your head. you watched as how his expression perked up as if he had realised something, immediately bowing his head to apologise for not introducing himself sooner. 

“sorry about that, i’m seonghwa. park seonghwa,” the ma- no, seonghwa, greeted before he continued, “i am new here, i just moved into town just yesterday evening.” 

your lips formed into a small ‘o’ then replacing it with a gentle yet welcoming grin as the first mental answer you had was correct. “it’s nice to meet you, seonghwa. my name’s y/n, y/n l/n” you introduced.

“if i’m not being a bit too nosy, what brings you here? moving here, i mean.” you asked. 

it was very well known of you to be curious of things around you ever since you were a little girl. you had to admire how your grandmother was always patient with your questions ranging from the questions that had a simple answer to questions that seemed so silly anyone who heard it would surely laugh out of amusement from your curiosity.

“ah, well, i got a new job here at the town’s kindergarten,” seonghwa trailed off, resting his weight on one of his feet. your eyes widened slightly before clasping your hands together in amazement. 

“is that so? i'm sure the kids in this town would love to meet their new handsome kindergarten teacher.” you exclaimed, grinning brightly over at the male. 

seonghwa, on the other hand, could only raise an eyebrow at the certain word he had heard from you, one of the corners of his lips lifting up into a small smirk out of amusement. “ah, you think i’m handsome?” he asked, cheekiness lacing in his tone as he spoke which caused you to momentarily freeze in your place.

you could feel blood rushing to the apples of your cheeks at the slip of word as your hand quickly came up to cover your lips, apologising for accidentally blurting the word out loud. seonghwa couldn’t help but to release a light laugh from the strings of apologies along with almost incoherent words coming out from a flustered you, waving a hand in a dismissive manner to reassure you that it was fine.

“to be fair, i find you cute.” he casually added, a wink in the end that only made you grow more sheepish.

“sir, i’m gonna have to ask whether you wanna order something or i would have to kick you out for flirting with the tea maker.” you joked, which of course made seonghwa chuckle as the two of you could feel the awkward ice slowly melting away.

“as far as i remember, you called me handsome first. i only returned the compliment.” he retorted as a matter of factly, raising his eyebrows as if to emphasise his point, to which made you jokingly roll your eyes at him. 

from there, the two of you seemed to get along quite well. it was not a surprise as to how seonghwa was able to get along with the other townspeople from how friendly and humble he was. not to mention, he was also surprisingly good with the children in the nearby kindergarten yet of course, knowing when to pull a strict teacher act whenever they misbehaved yet not to the extent of having them completely fear him. It was safe to say he is the town’s favourite at this point. 

seonghwa is always seen standing near the park’s playground while making sure the kids were safe as they played with each other, occasionally joining in to play as the ‘monster’ while they played tag. when not at the playground, he can be found in your tea house either relaxing with a cup of tea while reading his book or just stopping by to have a conversation with you.

it would be a lie to say that you weren’t thankful that your tea house was not busy on most days of the week, knowing that you get to talk to this handsome kindergarten teacher. two of you would mostly talk about how your days were, you amusedly listening to seonghwa telling you about the children’s antics during his classes, or how you would excitedly tell him the new tea set you have been wanting for so long finally being able to be ordered. more often than not, seonghwa would wait until you close up the shop, helping you out by cleaning the place as to which you were thankful with the extra pair of hands. 

your hangouts always happened in the days after your first meeting. which then changed to weeks and then, to a few months.

and today, was like any other day. seonghwa was sitting near the window checking his students’ works, his glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose with brows furrowed in concentration, while you were wiping down the cups you had washed earlier. your eyes glanced up at the wall clock to check the time, noting how you had a few more minutes before closing time. yet seeing as though there weren't any more customers coming by any time soon, you decided to start cleaning up the place a little earlier and made quick work of placing the cups away in the cabinets. seonghwa, hearing the rustling around, looked up. he then placed his glasses down and closed the last workbook that he was examining before getting up to help upon seeing you struggle with putting some cups away. 

“a little early today, mm?” he inquired, looming over from behind to help you place a teapot safely in the cabinet you had trouble reaching, hand on your waist.

the sudden voice and action made you jump in place from shock, only to relax afterwards when you only realised it was seonghwa, despite feeling warmth creeping up its way to bloom on both of your cheeks due to the closeness between the two of you yet you kept your calm demeanour. you turned around to face the man and only then, did you feel a huge lump suddenly appeared in your throat

seonghwa was staring down at you with an unreadable expression. your gazes were on each other while silence enveloped the both of you. it felt as if time had suddenly slowed down as well. what is in his mind? what is he going to do? so many questions were running through your mind that you didn't notice the large hand coming up to your head, only noticing it when you felt his slim digits picking at something in your hair.

“chamomile, how can you not notice some of the dried tea leaves in your hair?” his deep voice rumbled, showing the said leaves in his hand as an amused simper was shown on the male’s lips. the nickname was enough to somehow make your heartbeat increase its pace. 

“i guess i was just too busy. though, you shouldn't say that to me considering your hair is a mess too, strawberry.” you retaliated, reaching a hand up to fix the stray strands of his locks, remembering how you've seen (or watched) him run his fingers through his hair numerous times while examining the workbooks.

recently, seonghwa has been calling you with that certain name out of nowhere. when you asked why he had called you as such, he simply mentioned that he had noticed that you tend to drink your favourite chamomile tea even if there was a variety of flavours. hence, him calling you chamomile which led you to calling him ‘strawberry’ as you found him taking a liking to your strawberry tart.

with the names being exchanged and the frequent hangouts in your tea house, some of the residents would claim that the two of you would make an adorable couple. for instance, the middle aged ladies who tend to stop by at your little tea house for their daily gossiping would loudly coo at the sight of the two of you whenever seonghwa would usually send you his playful wink, to which you responded with a flying kiss to balance out the flirty energy. but of course, you would always deny it.

it wasn't because you didn't like him. it would be a lie to say that you do not have a small crush on park seonghwa, the town’s heartthrob. how could anyone not? you wouldn't say he's perfect, considering that everyone has their own flaws. even seonghwa himself had confessed his concerns about himself but.. but that's what makes him, well, him. 

you had unexpectedly developed such feelings. could it be because of how he waited for you to close down the tea house and walk you home despite being tired from a day of dealing with misbehaving children? could it be from the way he would usually stop by in the morning to get a freshly brewed cup of peppermint tea before heading towards the school? or was it because of how seonghwa would always send you flirty pick up lines and winks while you were busy tending to the customers of the tea house just to make you clumsily stutter over your words once he caught you off guard by doing so?

you don't know. 

but what you do know is that you like him. you like him so much that the smell of strawberries reminded you of him. 

yet, like any other person with a crush in mind, you would try your best to shrug those feelings away. who knows? maybe seonghwa was just the flirty type considering how the ladies in town seemed to love this heartthrob, no matter what age. or perhaps that you were just scared that if you confessed or even hinted that you like him in the most possible way, seonghwa would shut you out that the two of you would go back to being strangers.

“chamomile?” seonghwa’s voice called out, making you snap back into reality. you hadn't noticed that the said man was already pulled back to look at you, eyes full of concern from the sudden quietness coming from you.

“h-huh?” you asked, a slight stutter in your voice.

“i asked whether you are ready to head back home, it's getting dark.” he said, switching his gaze to the window where the sun was slowly being swallowed by the night sky. you couldn't help but to admire how the last golden rays from the sun had kissed seonghwa’s smooth skin, the warm light only making him seem more ethereal than usual. no wonder all the ladies were gushing over the male.

with a shake of your head to stop your wandering thoughts, you cleared your throat to hide your flustered side. “oh yeah, definitely! let me just make sure things are good.” you said. and with that, you made sure that everything in the store was in check and in good condition before heading outside to meet up with seonghwa. 

pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning on, he smiled down at you once you were done locking up the door. by the time you two started to walk back home, the sky’s canvas was already painted a deep shade of some type of dark blue with a few specks of crimson here and there, your eyes filled with the swirls of wonder and awe upon seeing the colours mixing in together in such a uniquely beautiful way.

seonghwa, who was a couple of steps behind, watched as you admired the dark sky. he couldn't help but to feel the increased palpitations of his heartbeat from the serene look painted over your visage. for some reason, it happened every time whenever the two of you stopped briefly in your walk home to watch the final appearances of the daylight before being succumbed into a starry night. just like you, seonghwa was scared to admit his feelings.

it seemed as if you weren’t the only one pining over someone. how could he not when you looked so adorable all concentrated trying out new flavours of tea, laughing to himself at the sight of your nose scrunching upon not liking a certain taste to it? how could he not when you looked especially endearing while dancing slightly in place to the beat of a song from your favourite playlist? how could he not when you looked so.. at peace as soon as the last bit of daylights were slowly fading off into the night sky? 

truly, the male had already grown smitten over you yet whenever he has tried to ask you out or admit his feelings, he somehow would always feel as if a little person would tug at his vocal chords so he wouldn’t be able to speak. instead, seonghwa would stand there fumbling with his words in front of you, watching as you tilt your head in question, finding it as a habit of yours whenever your curiosity was painted over the features of your face.

“seonghwa?” your voice intruded his thoughts, his eyes snapping back to instantly focus on your face. 

“yes, chamomile?” he answered, swiftly walking up to your side.

“i was wondering..” you continued, motioning for the two of you to continue walking with a nod of your head, to which seonghwa accepted. 

“..since tomorrow is my late grandmother’s birthday, would you..” you trailed off once again making seonghwa gently rest his hand on your shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze, as if to tell you to take your time in choosing your words, knowing how much your grandmother meant to you from the little stories you had shared with him.

“would you like to come with me? to celebrate it?” you asked, eyes looking everywhere except for a certain kindergarten teacher right next to you.

seonghwa could only stare at you in a dumbfounded manner before emitting a low chuckle, your endearing way of asking was enough to tug at his heartstrings. with a hum, the male swiftly pulled his phone out of his pocket to check at his schedule, making sure in case he didn’t have any plans or teaching during the said day, the corners of his pinkish lips tilting up into a little beam before nodding his head.

“i would love to, i’ll come by your place to pick you up at.. 9?” he offered, you looking up at him with wide eyes, a clear indication that you weren’t expecting him to really agree to go with you.

“oh, yeah, sure! definitely, 9 in the morning, yup.” you rambled on, and wondered as to why seonghwa wouldn’t cover your lips with his hand from how much your mouth is running. instead, said male just stood there with an amused beam at how you were acting. 

with the mutual agreement being shared and a few other short jokes being told followed by your laughter mingling with each other as the both of you walked, you had finally reached your place, much to your silent disappointment. unlocking your door, you turned around to face seonghwa to mumble a low ‘thank you’ for walking you home for the day. it was when you were about to head inside that seonghwa had suddenly called out your name, causing you to spin around to face him once again.

“i..” seonghwa started, lips opening and closing like a fish struggling to breathe. your eyes stared at him in anticipation, heart thumping into your ears to mask the silence surrounding the both of you underneath the now starry night sky.

‘damn it, just say it!’ the voice inside seonghwa’s head yelled out yet he was frozen, hands feeling clammy and the butterflies fluttering nonstop in his stomach at the way your irises curiously gazed over at him with a particular… glint in them? he can’t quite figure it out. 

“i.. goodnight, chamomile.” he managed to say, much to his disappointment. 

your face fell momentarily yet you quickly sent him your usual bright smile in return to his bid with a nod of your head, “mm, goodnight, strawberry.” and with that, you entered your house and shut the door behind you.

on the other side of the door, seonghwa stood there. his hand reached up to rest above his chest, just where his heart was located, as an attempt to calm the rapid beating. his face was burning and his mind was cursing at himself from how cowardly he was being. With a frustrated sigh leaving his lips, seonghwa took a few more seconds to look at your house before turning away to walk off back to his place.

----------

“good morning to you, chamomile.” a certain man greeted. 

true to his word, seonghwa was already outside your house at 9 in the morning once you heard a knock on your door while you were preparing the stuff you needed to take with you for the special day today. you couldn’t help but to admire his choice of clothing for the day as well. he’s wearing a loose fitting cardigan over a dark thin shirt underneath it, paired with black jeans. it was a simple look yet you are convinced that whatever seonghwa chose to wear, he looked like he was on his way to a fashion show. heck, you could even make him wear a potato sack and he would still look great. 

“here to say i’m handsome again, y/n?” he joked with a raised brow, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts and warmth going to your cheeks, sticking a tongue out at him.

“from all the time of seeing you almost every day? i’m starting to get used to your appearance, seonghwa.” you retorted, rolling your eyes at how the tall male in front of you feigned hurt by placing his hand on his chest dramatically, the two of you laughing afterwards.

while laughing, seonghwa took the brief opportunity to look at you. the light yellow shirt you wore matching your cheerful attitude, matched with washed denims. he had also noticed  what seemed to be a small picnic basket hanging off of your arm. the man felt his smile growing at the pretty little white trimmings adorning the basket. 

“i was thinking that once we are done visiting the cemetery, we could go near the playground for lunch?” your voice suddenly reached his ears, making him perk up instantly with a nod of agreement. 

“that would be lovely. oh and i brought flowers as well.” seonghwa said, showing the two beautifully wrapped bouquets in both hands.

of course, anyone would have noticed them by now. but you couldn’t help but to admire the tall man in front of you that the bouquets seemed to grow unnoticed. though, your eyebrows creased ever so slightly in confusion. “i’m sure one bouquet would be enough, no? grandma loves all types of bouquets anyway.” you questioned, which earned a low chortle coming from seonghwa. 

“actually, the other one is for you.” he sheepishly replied, handing out one of the bouquets to you. your eyes widened ever so slightly at the sudden act, reaching out to take the bouquet into your hands. Looking down, you emitted an almost inaudible gasp. 

the bouquet was filled with fresh chamomiles and a couple of sunflowers were in between. It was a small gesture but it made you feel all warm and giddy inside. ever since you were little, you had never received a bouquet from anyone outside of your family. so to receive one from seonghwa was enough to make you think that it was a sign that today will be a good day.

“i was at the florist earlier and noticed they had chamomiles. you mentioned that you had a liking towards them so i got you this bouquet and for the sunflowers well..” seonghwa trailed off, a hand reaching up to rub at his nape. 

“they reminded me of you, considering how you are always bright.” he continued, a nervous chortle leaving his lips. why is it suddenly hot? could the sun be this warm already? seonghwa merely cleared his throat and looked away as if to make himself busy to shove the flustered side of him away.

“i like them a lot. thank you, hwa.” you grinned in a sheepish manner as your foot kicked against a small pebble.

“are you ready to go?” seonghwa smiled, offering his arm for you to take, which you accepted by linking yours with his. 

and with that, the two of you set off on your way to the cemetery.

“hi, grandma. happy birthday.” you whispered, into the air once you arrived at the designated tombstone, hoping that the wind would carry your words to the skies or wherever to reach your grandmother. 

seonghwa, on the other hand, let you do your own thing quietly. his pools of dark brown swirls watched as you carefully caressed the name engraved on the tombstone, offering a hand when he noticed you cleaning the grave from the dried leaves and threw away the dried flowers that were previously placed, and being replaced with the new ones he had gotten. he quietly stood behind you as you sat in front of your grandmother’s tombstone, talking to her as if she was really there with you.

“today, i brought someone with me. his name is seonghwa, park seonghwa!” you said, his name that you called out instantly making him bow out of politeness.

“it is nice to meet you, i heard so much about you from your granddaughter, ma’am. quite a chatterbox she is.” seonghwa teased, earning a playful glare from you.

“he’s the new kindergarten teacher of the town, everyone loves him.” you chimed in afterwards.

once again, seonghwa stood next to you the whole time there. his expression growing softer by the minute as he watched you talking so.. cheerfully to your grandmother’s grave. momentarily, his eyes looked up at the sky and shut his eyes. a low humming from a sudden gust of wind was suddenly heard as a feeling of tranquility wrapped his whole entire frame. the rustling of leaves echoed around the two of you, followed by you telling your memorable moments from the days of not visiting the place. 

needless to say, the two of you spent your time at the cemetery just reminiscing past memories and recently made ones, laughing at a joke or two being made, until it was time to go.

“i will visit you again soon, grandma. i love you.” you bid goodbye, not before staring at the engraved name before running up to seonghwa’s side.

despite the usual bright grin over your lips, seonghwa silently noticed how your eyes had a slight glossy look to them as a flash of sadness appeared on your visage yet he didn’t comment on it. instead, he mustered up the courage in him to sling his arm around your shoulders, giving it a gentle rub while the two of you walked. of course, you were a little surprised yet you couldn’t help but to lean against him, finding comfort in his gesture. 

----------

“one, two!” the two of you said in unison, placing the plaid picnic blanket on the spot you both had chosen right underneath a large tree just a few feet away from the playground.

“i made us sandwiches, and made some rice balls as well. i didn’t really know what you would like.” you sheepishly admitted and placed the food right in the middle of the picnic blanket, taking out a couple of cups along with a bottle filled with what seemed to be iced peach tea. seonghwa looked down at the food, and pursed his lips to let out a sound of amazement.

“they look great. thank you for the meal!” 

and with that, the both of you started to eat while enjoying the view of children playing with their friends in the playground, parents standing at the sidelines to make sure the children won’t hurt themselves in the process, while some townsfolk are just out on a walk. 

“hey, y/n. there’s something that i wanted to ask.” seonghwa asked. 

you, not expecting for him to sound serious made you cease the subconscious twiddling of your fingers. you straightened in your seat and tilted your head, indicating for him to continue. in front of you, seonghwa visibly gulped, swallowing the huge lump in his throat that was about to form. it was now or never.

“do you.. do you have anyone in mind?” he asked, eyes focused on his hands folded in front of him.

the sudden question caught you off guard as questions filled your mind rather than answers to his question. why was he suddenly asking you this? is he just genuinely curious? or perhaps… perhaps he has someone in mind? shaking the thoughts away, you wouldn’t know what it is about if you kept overthinking things. you cleared your throat and shifted in place, now hugging your knees as your back was resting against the tree behind you.

“i used to not have someone in my mind.” hearing the words from you made seonghwa sighed internally. “but-” he suddenly perked.

“but lately, someone’s in it. been there for a little while now.” you continued.

at this point, the both of you could feel your heartbeat just racing in your chests. you wondered if it was the appropriate time to tell him. wondering if it would really be the right choice. while seonghwa, he wondered if he’s finally going to say it. wondering what your reaction would be. 

“should.. should we say who we like together?” you suggested. seonghwa could only nod his head, shutting his eyes momentarily to gather all of the courage he needed.

“on the count of three.” he whispered.

“one.” you started, turning to the side to face him properly, heart beating in your chest that you swear seonghwa could hear it too.

“two.” he continued, now looking at you, feeling the familiar fluttering feeling in his stomach.

“three!” now.

“i like you!”

“i like you!”

silence.

silence enveloped the two of you as the both of you stared at each other in shock, both of your eyes widened. your mouth opened and closed repeatedly as you tried to say something, yet not even a whisper could be heard from you. while seonghwa… the poor guy looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“you like me?” the both of you asked at the same time.

“i mean-” you guys started again.

“it’s just-” and again.

both of you were about to do it again until seonghwa quickly covered your lips with his hand, your words muffled by the man’s palm.

“yes, i like you too. have been for a while now.” he said, slowly removing his hand away from your lips to let you speak.

he watched at how you dumbfoundedly stared at him before reaching up to gently pinch your own arm as if to see whether this was a dream or not, grimacing at the sight as you emitted a quiet hiss from the sting against your skin. this was definitely not a dream. without another word, your arms were suddenly thrown around his neck to pull him into a tight hug, seonghwa grunting at the sudden weight and caught you in his arms, making sure that he could balance the both of you so he wouldn’t end up falling down from the sudden hug, his own arms wrapped around your frame as he buried his face against your soft hair. though none of you were talking, it was enough to let seonghwa know how you felt. and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you were right. 

today is a good day indeed.

----------

the sudden chime of bells ringing reached your ears, making you look up from the tea pot you were using to brew a fresh batch of chamomile tea, an indication a customer has walked into your tea house. walking over to the door, you were about to greet the customer until your eyes met a pair of dark brown ones. the same dark brown eyes that curiously gazed around your little tea house. the same white shirt and washed denim jeans that made him look so effortlessly stunning. the same honey-ish strands that make you want to run your fingers through them at how soft it looked. 

park seonghwa smiled over at you, despite the slight tiredness in his eyes from almost a day spending his time at the kindergarten. you made quick strides towards the male and enveloped him into a tight hug, to which he returned almost instantly. with a soft kiss being placed against the top of your head, he pulled away slightly just enough to have a good look of your face. only then, a low chortle rumbled against his chest as his hand picked at something in your hair.

“i’m starting to think that you like it whenever i pick the dried tea leaves off your hair, chamomile.” he teased, showing you the dried tea leaves between his fingers.

“and i’m starting to think that you forgot your girlfriend is a tea maker of this tea house. obviously i would have some dried tea leaves on me occasionally.” you retorted with a laugh.

it has been almost a year since the two of you ended up together. the first couple of dates were a tad bit awkward, clearly shy once you had entered the next level in your relationship. yet, you would always silently thank seonghwa for being able to melt away the awkward ice between the two of you. 

of course, like any relationship, the two of you had your ups and downs. the fights you had could range from playful bickers to serious ones but not to the extent of it getting too serious. at the end of the day, the both of you knew that relationships require a lot of teamwork in many ways possible and sometimes, disagreements could even happen. so instead of about to yell at each other’s faces, one of you would leave the room to cool down for a bit before words that are thrown without even meaning to, be released. once either of you have calmed down, it was either you or seonghwa that would approach the other to apologise, finally making up and discussing your disagreements so the other would understand.

“is that chamomile tea i smell?” seonghwa asked, to which, you nodded with a little smile on your lips.

“mm, and i also made some strawberry tarts for us. don’t think that i ever forgot your favourite dessert.” you giggled as soon as seonghwa pressed fleeting kisses all over your face, knowing how much the man loves the said dessert. 

“you’re spoiling me, my chamomile.” he whispered, lips brushing against your own.

“as you should be with how hard you work.” you chuckled and planted one last kiss on his lips before pulling him further in your tea house.

“now, come on. let’s talk about our days, hm?” 

you never would have thought the stranger who had walked into your tea house during his morning walk turned into your significant other. but you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

as long as you are with park seonghwa by your side, you are content with what you have.

[kiruuuuu]

It seems you’re not alone in this notion, anon, which continues to baffle yet delight me! Thank you, and because you’re such a darling (and honestly, all Doc/Lion shippers I’ve come across are), have a snippet about Doc catching Lion sleep :) Please enjoy 💙 (Rating G, fluff, ~1.3k words)

.

The first time Doc catches him, the sight triggers an uncomfortable rush of anger. Uncomfortable partly because he’s still not used to encountering this demon of his past on a regular basis; uncomfortable because a person sleeping this peacefully shouldn’t evoke this kind of emotion; uncomfortable because of its intensity.

Still, the fury rages inside him – they’re at work, what is he thinking? Doc hasn’t slept more than four hours each night, ever since they flew out to that cursed town in the middle absolutely nowhere, so how dare he. How dare he. Is he not taking his position in Rainbow seriously? If this is representative of his work ethic, he never should’ve made it this far.

And maybe his ire is tinged with envy, just a little bit, the green parasite poking out its ugly head. Sleep without nightmares is a luxury Doc is too busy to afford, though it seems Lion splurged without leaving enough for his co-workers. Doc would give a limb to be able to nap like this.

His thoughts race through his mind in less than seconds, and to an outsider it must look like there’s no hesitation between Doc spotting his colleague and mercilessly slamming down the files in his hand with a loud bang.

Doc’s fury rumbles, appeased, at the way Lion jumps, jolts awake, blinks at him blearily and disoriented.

“We’ve got work to do”, Doc announces, pulls the creakiest chair closer and feels most of his wrath dissipate at Lion’s wince. Not all, but most.

.

The second time happens months later. Doc is bustling about, sorting and tidying, when he barges into the supply closet. It’s small enough for three people to be a tight fit, the walls lined with spotless shelves which Doc keeps well-stocked and well-documented, the contents at any point fully accounted for and providing for daily use as well as most medical emergencies.

In between them, draped over rather than sitting on the cosiest office chair Rainbow has to offer, rests Lion. His head is tilted back over the slightly-too-short backrest, his lips parted and his breaths measured and calm. A while ago, Doc would’ve marvelled at the fact that he hasn’t woken up despite Doc’s ruckus, but now he’s got more information.

He always sleeps during his lunch break, Montagne told him and the slight reproach in his voice stung. Never longer than he’s meant to. I don’t think he eats at all.

There’s more Doc absorbed from the grapevine – problematic neighbours, difficulty sleeping (and doesn’t that sound familiar), overwhelming fatigue. Once he realised he didn’t only interrupt a perfectly legitimate nap that day, but also dragged Lion back to work by cutting his break short, he toyed with the idea of apologising. After all, Doc wants to be the bigger man, wants to mend bridges rather than burn them. But even though interacting with Lion has become gradually less awkward, he’d feel too weird bringing something up from weeks ago.

Instead, he’s been tolerant of Lion’s habit. Hasn’t asked him to join them for lunch, knowing he’d decline anyway, stopped looking for him, didn’t dig to catch Lion in the act once more. This, however, is a coincidence: their breaks usually line up, unless one of them is needed urgently, so Doc roaming around the medical office during normal break time happens seldom enough.

Lion’s eyelashes fan out over his cheeks and there’s a strand of hair sticking up. He looks like his muscles will be sore from how he’s perched on the chair, arms crossed, defiant even in sleep.

By now, Doc has forgotten why he came here in the first place. All his mind focuses on is how Lion’s shirt is untucked, the collar askew a little. His fingers itch to fix it.

Quietly, he closes the door behind him and is suddenly glad nobody is there to watch his emotions fight it out on his face. In the end, he pulls himself together with a sharp shake of the head, puts down the box he was holding and heads out for a late lunch break.

Before he leaves, he sets down the sandwich he made this morning on Lion’s desk.

.

The third time, it’s not during Lion’s lunch break at all.

Instead, it’s in the rental Doc’s driving back to their temporary headquarters. Lion in the passenger seat, starting out by hunting the orange street lights with his eyes and either humming along to the music to keep himself awake or compare his findings with Doc. He voluntarily surrendered the privilege to drive, stating he doesn’t trust himself to drive straight. It seems his evaluation was correct – he’s snoring softly by the time Doc parks them next to the unassuming-looking building Harry has chosen as their base of operation.

It’s six in the morning and neither of them has slept for almost two days now – no time, not with how many civilians needed first aid, not with how many hostages were injured. Their time and efforts proved fruitful, at least, and they’re convinced certain patterns, pieces of evidence, some testimonies will aid them in their search. This is why they’re here: to report to Harry and Thatcher so they can act on it, set the machine in motion.

Lion’s forehead is pressed against the cool window. He’s too tall for the tiny car they’ve been given, his limbs sticking out at odd angles, and yet he found sleep. He looks calmer than Doc has ever witnessed him to be awake, usually too high-strung, attentive, careful not to make any errors. Like he knows he’ll be judged harsher for them than Doc would be.

Maybe it’s unfair.

No, Doc knows it to be unfair. This isn’t their first cooperation in the past year, not their first all-nighter. Lion is diligent and complements Doc well, once they look past their incompatibilities – Doc acts with heart and Lion with logic. The biggest difference to… before is that they now strive to find compromises instead of insisting on their own way of doing things.

He kills the engine. The doors lock with a satisfying click and Doc slides lower on the driver’s seat, closing his eyes. Thatcher won’t be back before half six anyway.

The next time his eyelids slide open, it’s suddenly much brighter outside. A noise woke him, a rustling of clothes and joints popping. He looks over at Lion who’s regarding him with a puzzled expression. “Did you -”, Lion starts to ask and Doc merely sighs tiredly and stretches as an answer.

“Half six”, he reads out from his wristwatch, “on the dot.”

Lion suppresses a yawn almost guiltily, as if he felt bad for falling asleep. As if he didn’t just watch Doc wake up himself.

“Let’s head inside.”

And if he’s not mistaken, that was a rare smile on Lion’s face.

.

The next time could’ve been a still from a film noir, an old one, one Doc could re-watch endlessly.

Light falling into the room illuminates the bed sharply, reflects on the sheets and creates an oasis in the darkness of night. The broad strip cuts the mattress diagonally, emphasising the relief of a face so familiar to Doc’s eyes. To his hands. The nose throws a dramatic shadow, the pretty cheekbones catch the light, the fair hair shines brightly.

He could stand here and watch forever, wait until Lion has sunken back into a deep sleep, wait until his eyes flit to and fro below their lids, wait until the sun paints a more natural picture, a softer one. Though it’d be just as flattering as this.

But it’s late and exhaustion threatens to drag him to the floor, so Doc flicks the switch, bathing everything in darkness once again. He undresses blindly and slips under the covers, hoping for body warmth to embrace him, but is graced with more: strong arms wrap around him and pull him close.

Recently, Lion has stopped taking naps during the day. He says he doesn’t need them.

[iwritethat]

Bruce Wayne: Ladies Man

A/N: A bit of Batman because I don’t have enough on here.

>>>>——————————>

It was simply a side job, in Gotham such honest living was difficult to come by so when an old friend of the family offered you a waitress position at their bar you couldn't refuse whilst getting through school at 16. Who wouldn't want to earn some cash right? Surprisingly they upheld a few laws, like not letting you serve alcohol but if you remained then it would be something you'd learn among other things.

After 2 years, one interesting thing about the job was the vast variety of customers the bar attracted. You intermingled with the likes of Gotham royalty, both of upper class and the underground depending on the day and being a long term employee meant they remembered your name whether you liked it or not. Unfortunately, due to your uncanny ability to charm just about anyone, you were the pub favourite often requested to serve and the owner adhered to the requests of the wealthy for obvious reason - plus they tipped you generously.

Among these was young bachelor Bruce Wayne, you were on a first name basis with how often his friends came in clubbing. They weren't 21 but money and fake IDs do the talking. Although you cared not for their names, it was Bruce who seemed more mysterious and calculating than he'd ever let on.

Tonight he sat at the bar in contemplation, a member of his group snogging the face off of some lass rather lazily in your opinion.

"I'm surprised you aren't indulging in the same luxuries." You casually addressed your friend, sliding your platter onto the bar and leaning on it beside him gesturing to the aforementioned pair.

"I'm not great at charming women yet. The status does it all for me right now."

"You can't rely on that! You're Bruce Wayne, I expect you to be smooth and have me falling at your feet. What if there's a girl you really like who won't care for your status hm?" He raised a brow at your playful tone, but you'd captured his interest as you usually did unintentionally.

"I don't know, I haven't met one yet."

"Alright then we're going to prepare for that day so she'll be wanting more. C’mon, show me." You patted the bar for emphasis, smirking at his suddenly confused expression.

"Right here, now?"

"Dazzle me." Came your simple yet upbeat response as you gestured him to bring it.

"Okay fine. So uh... you come here often?" Bruce attempted rather awkwardly, leaning against the bar in a way he thought to be seductive as you remained unreadably silent.

"Pfffttt that's the best you've got?" You couldn't hold your laughter for long, head falling into your arms on the bar to stifle them.

"No - no! (Y/n) it's not that funny..." He hummed, lightly nudging your arm to regain your full attention.

"You're right, I just - it was so bad. You're so crap at flirting it hurts!"

"Oh? How would you do it then?" For someone so young, he was challenging and you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it.

You ran your hands through your hair, fingers gently grazing his arm with a gentle bite of your lip.

"Now now, we can't have you falling for a mere waitress now can we?"

"You're not just a waitress (Y/n)..." His gaze followed you around the bar as you now learnt over it with a courteous smirk.

"Right there - you watched me walk away, I already have you hooked right?"

"Wait - that didn't - you didn't use a pick up line or anything! How does that even count?" Bruce looked back and forth, stammering once coming to the realisation that you'd charmed him so easily whilst you leaned back to clean a glass.

"Look, chances are that pickup lines are only going to be laughed about and to break the ice anyway, after that you've just gotta be yourself. The people who are worth it will stick around." You gave a haphazard shrug with a genuine smile on your lips and you nodded to the billionaire across from you. It always caught him off guard, the amount of wisdom you held for someone only his age.

"Like you?"

"There are better people in the world than me Bruce Wayne."

—

The air was bitter as you stood outside the usually welcome doors of your workplace, ones that remained closed due to recent occurrences. You held the keys and deed between your fingers, fiddling due to the unfamiliar weight of newfound responsibility - the owner was always a mysterious man, striking resemblance to a character from Kingsman adorned with a British accent and designer suits. Even so his death came as a shock, his Will stating that his bar and all its contents be passed on to you even more baffling.

"The only thing you'll catch out here is a cold." A calm but witty voice commented, the man now standing beside you expecting your signature snark.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard the news, and I thought you might like some company doing this. I know you could handle it but I'm here." Bruce casually answered, your friendship remained constant through the years even if surprising. It seemed you just couldn’t get rid of each other.

"Is it a nightclub? Pub? Restaurant? A combination of all that? Is that even legal? I can't run this place - I don't even know what the hell it is! And the customers - they’re... well, some of them are illegal..." You grimaced at your overwhelmed outburst, palm slipping from the door it once had the intention of opening.

"Hey, why don't you come over to the Manor? I've got the evening free and we can go through it all together, and I'll attempt to lighten you up as we go." You were carefully torn from the door, the millionaire holding your hands in his, the warmth a welcome comfort from the breeze of Gotham.

"The key word in there was 'attempt', wasn't it?" You met his concerned gaze now, tone holding expectant sarcasm despite remaining laced with defeat.

"It has been said that my brooding can get in the way." Bruce responded, hand rubbing the back of his neck out of what you assumed was embarrassment.

"Sounds fun, lead the way oh rich one." You released a half hearted chuckled as the male rolled his eyes, offering his arm to you. However, the foreign soft whisper that followed caught him off guard so much so that he almost made a spelling error on the email currently cancelling tonight’s scheduled meeting.

"And thanks Bruce... for everything."

You spent the night at the Manor, delving into your insecurities and Bruce aided in the business side of things where he could in aid of settling at least some of the worries you had. Afterwards you enjoyed one another’s company, catching up on the weeks events as well as the unfurling of his newest addition to the household over the fanciest champagne and 5* meal courtesy of Alfred who you’d convinced to dine with you also.

-

In a month or so with Bruce’s support you were able to apply your extensive knowledge of the business into running it as your predecessor had and since the regulars knew you already it made it much easier as profits rolled in rather substantially. Now you knew how the old manager could afford his luxury suits.

Tonight though, Bruce made an appearance looking rather despondent and almost exhausted which may not be so obvious to surrounding staff or those not close to him but of course, you were an exception.

Naturally, you leaned on the opposite side of the bar, promoting a weak smile after you’d asked what was bothering the man.

"A business deal didn't go quite how I expected, and it kept me up all night." Bruce summarised, strategically avoiding the details regarding Penguin.

"Then I believe you need some cheering up, I hope you don't have any plans because they are now cancelled~"

"The Manor is free, I can get some strawberrry champagne (Y/n) -"

"Nope, it's my turn. You're about to find out how us commoners spend our evenings."

Without another word you walked him to your spacious apartment which was only around the corner, the hefty bar profits kept it well furnished and your cupboards stocked - even so, you convinced the billionaire to lower his standards to order in which you paid for against his protest.

"I'm paying this time, you're the one whose had it rough recently so I'm treating you. That's what friends are for, besides this food is a little below your pay grade don't you think?" You laughed as you filtered through your movie collection before finding a perfect selection for the night.

"If you think that after adopting Dick that I haven't been subjected to takeout then you're sorely mistaken. I quite enjoy it actually." The billionaire replied rather smugly, slowly growing accustomed to the relaxing atmosphere you and your home radiated. Bruce, for once, felt oddly content.

The movie began and ended, the time filled with idle conversation of which grew deeper as the credits rolled and continued whilst you pottered in the kitchen. Moments later you emerged with a tray, Bruce opening his mouth and closing it being too taken aback to comment.

"I present to you, Chocolat de (L/n)." Came your dramatic voice, accent where necessary to add charm.

Bruce shot you an amused glance, carefully taking on of the two tall mugs from the tray you held - the hot chocolate topped with cream, marshmallows and a flake - very appealing to the eye and tastebuds. It was practically famous in your club.

"(Y/n)?! This is - incredible.”

“Why thank you, only the best for you right?”

He smiled at that, a genuine smile that he’d hoped expressed his immense gratitude right about now.

“That must be why I have you then.”

“Ah, now that is a smooth line. Being in my company has improved your skills huh?” You wittily countered, though Bruce only offered a hopeless yet content sigh.

Clearly they weren’t as effective as you believed.

-

Bruce seemed refreshed after leaving that night, he’d emphasised his regret of not being able to see you in person to thank you properly over the various texts you’d exchanged in the past week - although, as you were wiping down the counter after an early close you were not expecting the uncanny interruption.

An hallowing echo against the oak bar captured your attention, finding a sheepish bachelor at it’s origin.

"What's this?" You inquired as you picked up the item he’d placed down moments ago, inspecting it precariously.

"It's premium Raspberry Ripple White Hot Chocolate - I thought we could try it, together."

"How on Earth do you get as many women as you do with vague attempts like that hm?" An amused brow was raised in his direction, the action relaxing the millionaire more than he’d admit.

"I'm much smoother when I don't actually have genuine feelings for someone, as such I suppose you don't get the privilege of cliché pick up lines. So what do you say (Y/n)?” It was unorthodox yes, but judging by your quiet laugh he assumed it was the way you’d want it.

"You had me at 'Do you come here often?'"

-BONUS-

"You're saying that line worked." Bruce taunted from his place by the Manors kitchen island, you sipping your drink with a nonchalant argument.

"It did not. It was awful."

"I had this all semi planned from the beginning (Y/n)." He smugly replied, tone basking in the victory of the overly drawn out ‘plan’.

"Hah! I refuse to believe this is how you predicted things to go when we first became friends." It was possible but it had been years since you’d first met, he could not have suspected you’d ever end up together this far ahead.

"You're correct Miss (Y/n), Master Bruce spent the entire evening whining about how he'd embarrassed himself in front of you after your little competition and that it was near impossible to win your affections. A common occurrence whenever he visited your bar really..." The loyal butler unceremoniously intervened, pride radiating from his unwanted revelation as he entered the kitchen.

"Alfred." Bruce released a defeated groan as he had you wrapped around his finger for a second, something he’d wanted to relish in for a few seconds before Alfred had besotted you with the truth.

You however, were pleased with the information, winking at your partner with a gracious smirk befalling your lips.

"Knew it."

[hannah-writes]

Malex Kiss (Pilot) - A Cinematographic Breakdown - Part of The Semiotics of Roswell Meta

So first things first, we see the camera slowly pan up to reveal Alex's prosthetic. He's had to step away to adjust it which gives us an insight into his character; private, may be concerned about appearances. Knowing what we know now, with the benefit of hindsight, there's an even more striking comparison at this moment. As the camera pans up and we see Alex looking at a picture of himself, the music played over this section says "you can run but you won't make it far / you can't hide from who you are". He's looking up at a younger, skateboarding image of himself that we know from episode six with the flashbacks was someone who was Out in every sense other than screaming that he was gay to the world. Every beating from his father made him dig his heels in; another piercing, more eyeliner, another way of shouting fuck you to the world. The line "you can't hide" is repeated again as there's an over-the-shoulder shot of Alex's photo on the wall and we're sharing in Alex's pain and nostalgia here.

What's telling in the next cut though is it moves to a wide shot, when "from who you are" is played over the image as Michael's standing in the doorway. They're sharing the middle of the screen here, true, but they're still each on a defined side; Alex on the right and Michael on the left.

When Michael says "nostalgia's a bitch, huh?" the camera cuts to Michael, a soft-focus mid-shot (soft focus images are typically romantic in nature, which is in sharp contrast to how they were shot earlier - close up almost claustrophobic shots during the 'did it get old for you?'). Michael's on the left-hand side of the screen.

We intersect to shots of people dancing, having fun, Isobel and Max etc. This is in sharp focus again which offers another direct contrast when we return to the blue swamped (because outside the lighting is more neutral with hints of blue, but it's nothing like the blue swamped scene of Male here).

When we return to Malex, Alex is on the left, we're back in soft focus (which means that all those ribbons are blurred). It's a mid-shot, focused on Alex's face which gives us a visual insight into the fact that these two are closer than we anticipated, closer than we might have thought at first. Suddenly, the angles are mirroring the ones used for Liz and Max, though Malex has already claimed their sides of the screen: whatever page they're on, it's closer to being the same one than the ones Liz and Max are operating on.

When we cut to Michael, with the "is that what you want?" the camera's pulled back. We can see the macho cowboy swagger dropping, he's unsure and uncertain and the camera's angled in a way that makes him look small. He shrugs, his hands look like they're in his pockets and it's the textbook body language of someone who's expecting a 'yes' to a question that they really want the answer to be 'no' to.

Though Alex doesn't say no, and the camera stays close again on the two of them, cutting right back into Michael and Alex as they both move towards each other, towards the centre of the frame (where they'll meet each other). The camera is still, and steady, it doesn't wobble or swing, it's focused solely on tracking their movements, keeping close-cropped to their faces which allows us to see and feel how they're feeling in the moment.

(Can I just take a moment to talk about how Tyler swallows RIGHT before he says 'what I want doesn't matter'? Because the answer to Michael's question is 'No', it's always been no. Alex wants Michael, he always has done and he confirms it in that moment.)

ANYWAY. With Alex saying 'what I want doesn't matter' which is a screaming way of Alex saying that he still wants Michael, that he's glad Michael hadn't left (something that's mirrored and repeated when Michael talks about moving to Tennessee and Alex is like wait what you're leaving?!) and it sets up a paradigm of the two of them almost saying what they mean but never actually saying the words. "What I want doesn't matter" -  I want you. "I never look away, not really" - I love you. "It was late, I was tired" - I stayed because this is safe for me, you are home. That kind of thing, you know?

The way they keep the tight angles in the shots (the Michael looking Alex up and down like he's a snack, and Alex's expression - ten years of longing all cultivated in a single look), helps increase the tension. The switching of POVs is actually quite slow; we get a good three seconds on Michael's face, then Alex's as they wind up getting close to kissing. And then. Then it happens (1:07 in the video).

As their lips collide (and god, Michael surges into Alex like he's the oxygen needed to breathe, the way he clings to him and their bodies just crash together (A CRASH LANDING)... find yourself someone who kisses you like Michael kisses Alex after ten years, you deserve it), you'll notice that the camera swings to the side slightly, the shot stays the same, mid/close as we're not meant to be looking at anything else but their faces (and Alex is still on the right and Michael is on the left, we're slightly closer to Alex's side than we are in the middle) before it stabilises and that's something that happens with most of Malex's kisses. That first contact the camera swings to chase them and I read that like Michael and Alex's worlds rock each time, the turbulence of their minds and their lives culminating and then... the camera goes still and the only movement is them, with each other. The camera's still because they're at peace.

The audio over this section is "you can't run from a smoking gun", which narratively tells us that whatever this is, since we've not been introduced to their epicness fully yet, is hot, it's fresh, it's burning and alive and it's inescapable. Alex can't hide from who he is - though it's obvious now that he's been trying - and Michael can't escape how he feels from Alex. They can't run from each other. It sets up a fantastic overall narrative that we don't even see for Echo, yet.

We cut from an almost side on shot to an almost over-the-shoulder, which brings another element into the Malex kisses which I haven't seen many people talk about and that's the way that the camera is almost voyeuristic at points with them. We're experiencing the kiss, sure, but we're also watching it as a third party (the angles are never immediately side on they're always slightly off, and the museum kiss is shot from a distance, like someone's hidden and the toolshed reflection in the mirror, it's all done to amp up the tension, of course, because we know Alex is afraid of being seen, of being caught (again), of something happening because they weren't careful enough).

This is then interspersed with Jesse Manes telling Kyle that the aliens are incapable of compassion and love.

THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT.

"They despise freedom, love"

This line is said DIRECTLY OVER A MALEX SCENE. I cannot stress this enough. We were all hurt by the finale, and so many of us feel betrayed but from the very beginning, they have been set up as equal, if not more solidly signposted, to the primary romantic storyline (Echo). The image of Michael and Alex with their foreheads touching is iconic, not just because of the fact that it's Malex and you can see their Peace here, you can see the line of Michael's shoulders drop, the way that he just breathes Alex in, how Alex's hands have slid down his chest (probably to hook around his lower back the same way it did when they were kids, he kisses like he's a teenager again because that's how Michael makes him feel). The fact that we can't see Alex's hands here is also probably telling; Michael grips him like he's afraid he'll disappear, like he's the port in Michael's storm. And they're still slightly further to the right than they are in the middle: Michael's all in, he's crowding Alex into his side of the screen, they're almost on the same page but not quite and Michael is moving *to Alex*. Alex isn't giving ground here but Michael's conceding and stepping into Alex's space.

They stand together, and you can see them swaying a little, the camera rocks with them: what we've just witnessed is the reconnection of something epic. Dare I say cosmic?

The other thing I touched on briefly was the colour blue. This is used to signify a lot of things, but primarily blue is a soothing colour. It's comforting, calming. It's used to signify contentment, loyalty, fulfilment, peace, security and tranquillity. It's a colour that washes the screen when Malex has their reunion and it emphasises how Michael is seeking something to change his entropy, something to shift him back to calm and order and it's Alex he finds that in. The way this scene is washed out blue compared to the other parts of the party - which presumably have the same kind of lighting as Isobel is half-cast in blue - which are more neutrally lit is a directorial choice to highlight the moment. It's also one of the Colours Of Outer Space. Malex's love story, as we know, is cosmic and honestly, the colour choice helps solidify that. Nothing else in the pilot is colour-washed quite so much as Malex is and that's been done for a reason.

Male is set up here, just from this kiss alone, as being something that is literally out of this world. The way they're framed and shot, the way the camera focuses on their kiss after rocking and stilling (which, if you compare to the M&M kiss in the final episode the camera's at a lower angle and swings wildly from left to right like it can't work out where to go, Michael can't find his stillness and his calm, it's not the same and there's no stability though he's trying) all signify that we're watching an epic, long-term love story continue to unfold. We're introduced to it for the first time here, for sure, but this is not a new story and the shooting confirms that.

[shes-claws-deep]

Baptiste - My Love

Thank you for your commission @aurumstultorum ! Here’s your 2.5k fic of Baptiste getting some nice, gentle loving from his dom :3 Enjoy! (It did run over 2.5k lol sorry)

Interested in commissions?

“My love! What is this?” Baptiste’s voice startles you out of your near meditative state. He hurries over, dumping his gear by the door before he barrels into your back, doing his best to squash you with his chest in his eagerness to look over your head.

Laughing, you topple over and let him lay his grabby hands at the collar you were cleaning in your hand. “Just some things you mentioned you wanted to try. I haven’t used these in a while so I thought I should spare you the dust rashes and give them a clean.”

Baptiste grins widely, rubbing that beard on your forehead. “Why, thank you!” His sharp eyes catch the other goodies laid out before him and he feels a bubble of excitement well up in his chest. Excitement and no small amount of anxiety. He hasn’t touched rope since…well. It’s been a while, to say the least, and the last time he did it wasn’t a good memory. But with you…with you, this will be a good memory. He’s sure of it. “How about we see if you’ve cleaned them enough, my love?”

“Cheeky boy,” you chirp and tap his cheek. “Get rid of your clothes first.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Baptiste salutes and pushes himself up, his hands raising behind his neck to grasp at the collar of his shirt when you stop him with a single finger to his belly.

“Slowly.” You lick your lips and let lust darken your gaze. “And do it on your knees.”

Baptiste’s breath whooshes out of his lungs. “Yes, my love.” He can’t drop to his knees fast enough. Instinct tells him to strip quickly, to bare himself for you so that you can touch him. But his brain tells him to slow down, to make you desire him more and more until you’re the one to pounce on him and ravage him senseless. Yes, yes, that would be the better option.

So he slows down, tugging at the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head slowly, sensually, making sure he flexes his abdominal muscles to emphasise his eight pack abs. Oh, he knows exactly how much you like them. If he didn’t know, your tiny moan and soft mutters confirm his thoughts.

“God, fuck, you look so hot like that. Look at your abs baby, perfection,” you moan, leaning back and squeezing your thighs tight. “I want to ride those washboard abs till they’re soaking, one day.”

“That could be today, my love,” Baptiste growls seductively, dropping his shirt to the side and working on his belt and pant buttons. He dips the waistline of his trousers seductively, showing the lean line of his hips and that tantalising glimpse of a dark happy trail leading to your favourite place. The deep V of his Adonis belt is prominent, the unbroken line revealing that he decided to go commando today.

You bite your lip and rake your gaze over his well-muscled body, enjoying how he looks with his trousers riding low on his hips and his thumbs hooked into the hem. “Oh, you’re tempting me, Baptiste. You’re really tempting me.”

“Ah, my love, I’ll convince you to ravish me, yet!” Throwing down his challenge, he turns around and bends over as he takes off his pants, gyrating his hips from side to side as though wriggling out of those pesky clothes. Bit by bit, he reveals his toned ass and thighs, the forbidden star of his asshole and his dark balls squished between his legs. Then he straightens up and tugs them over his hips again, turning around to flash you a bright smile.

Unamused and incredibly horny, you growl and haul him close by the head, stealing a rough kiss as you shove at his trousers with a free hand. “Naked. Now.”

With a triumphant grin, Baptiste scrambles to strip himself of the remainder of his clothes, leaving him bare before you with nothing but a smug smile on his face. “My love-” He’s cut off by your hand as you fondle his cock gently, lovingly, your previous aggression melted away by how breathtaking he is when not a stitch covers him.

Powerful, chiselled muscles. Dark, silky smooth skin with its paler scars. Curly hair matching the colour on his head covers his chest and legs in a fine coat, soft and smooth to the touch like thin fur. You can’t get enough of touching him, of admiring him from afar and close up like this. His cock is thick in your hand, hardening and growing thicker in your grasp as you caress him slowly, lovingly.

Baptiste’s head rolls back on his shoulders, his mouth dropping open in a soft moan as you continue to stroke his cock. “Ah, my love, I’ve missed your touch.” His hands cover your knees and he caresses you with his thumbs, spasming every time your hand comes up to stroke the head of his cock. “Oh yes~”

“I gave you a handjob just this morning, you greedy gus.”

He smirks and leans close, kissing you shakily on the cheek as you squeeze his tip real tight. “Oo-ah~But you didn’t – nnngh – didn’t let me cum this morning, my love,” he purrs, rocking his hips against your hand. There is an urge to cover your hand with his, to quicken your speed and increase the pleasure floating in his body, but he’s content like this. At the mercy of your desire and your authority. He does, however, nip at your jaw. “Will I have one tonight?”

You take your hand away and stand up, tipping his chin up so you can smile down at him, a mean tinge to your expression. “Hmm, we’ll see. Take my clothes off and I’ll think about it.”

“Yes, my love.” There’s that breathless quality to his silky voice again, his breath roughening as he slips his head under your shirt, using the top of his head to push the fabric up so he can kiss at your belly. His thin beard and moustache tickle you ever so slightly, feathering across your skin as he presses little butterfly kisses all over where he can reach. By the time he reaches up to pull your shirt over your head, he’s kissed every inch of your belly and the tops of your breasts over your bra.

When he’s stopped by the soft cotton of your bra, he looks up at you between the hills of your breasts with his lips still pressed to your sternum. “May I take off your bra, my love?” His fingers are already creeping up your back, tracing the hooks and eyes.

You rub at his bicep and tut at the feeling of his fingers already curling around the straps. “You may.”

With a grin, he undoes your bra with ease, slipping the straps off your shoulders and throwing it behind him. Now that your breasts are free he goes wild over them, his huge arms wrapping around you and holding you close so that he can lick and suck all over them. One hand sneaks back around to cup the bottom of one, lifting it and angling your nipple right to his mouth. He’s not quiet as he slurps and kisses you, moaning and groaning when he suckles at your nipple with gusto.

Now it’s your turn to tilt your head back and bite back a whimper, arching your back and hugging his head to keep him close. You don’t need to though, Baptiste has no intention of doing anything other than worshipping your breasts. It’s only when one boob is completely soaked in saliva and covered in hickeys that he moves on to the other, giving it the same amount of attention as he did the first.

He likes the underside of your breasts, sucking on it while looking up at you through his lashes and grinning when he sees the dazed look in your eyes. “Am I convincing you yet, my love?”

“Mmm, just a little more would do you good. But I’m not naked yet, get to it,” you purr back at him, a moan leaking out when he bites down gently on your boob.

Baptiste, as preoccupied as he is with your breasts, pouts and obeys nevertheless. He keeps his lips locked around your areola even while his talented hands work at your bottoms, sucking and pulling with his head so you brace yourself on his strong shoulders. How considerate of him. At least, until he moans and slurps at your breast again, knocking you a little off balance so you lean more on him.

“Hey!” It would be sterner if you weren’t also breathless and if he wasn’t also sliding your panties down your legs. “Focus.”

Your lover snickers, his pupils blown wide open. “It is hard when I’m so distracted,” he murmurs against your skin, but obeys and separates from you with a pop so he can take your panties off proper. He does, however, get distracted by your pussy; darting in to sneak a taste with a stroke of his tongue before you push him away.

“Not yet.”

He pouts, shuffling on his knees to close the distance again. This time, he clambers on top of the bed to follow you as you scramble to the headboard. “Please?” He begs. “Don’t be mean, my love~” Rubs his hands over your legs where he can reach and kissing up your legs. “I’ll be a good boy.” His movements get more catlike as he crawls further up to you, his back arching and his head dipping to rest on your hip.

He’s already saying he’ll be a good boy? Well, if he isn’t already, you’re going to make him into the bestest boy, the goodest boy you’ve ever had. With one hand laid on his head, you snag his collar with your free hand, dangling it from your fingers with a smile. “You want to be a good boy?”

Slow, deliberate nodding. “Yes, my love.”

“Then come up here and tilt your chin up.”

He obeys with sinuous grace, fitting his body between your legs so he can bring his neck closer to you. Now in the perfect position, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Like this, he can focus on the cool leather and your warm hands, both sliding closed around his neck. Not like a noose, rather like a warm scarf. Those eyes pop open, however, when he feels you start buckling it loosely. “My love, it could be tighter.”

Now it’s your turn to have your eye snap up to it. “Could it?” Your own way of asking if it’s okay.

Baptiste takes a moment to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. Takes a moment to let the warmth and safety of the collar to settle in his chest before he opens his dark eyes, giving you that cocksure grin. “Trust me, my love, any looser and you could slip it off my head. Tighten it. Please?”

To think that when you started all those months ago, you couldn’t even wrap your hand around his neck without him flinching. Now, he’s the one asking you to make his collar snug around his throat. So that’s exactly what you do, cooing praises all the while. When you fasten the buckle around the right hole, you kiss his lips as you slide the leather through. “You look so handsome like this. With my collar around your neck. Showing everyone you’re mine.” Two fingers slip under the leather right quick, giving it a check, but then you twist your hand so you can pull him closer like that. “My pretty boy.”

The move brings him up flush against your body, his cock resting against your pussy lips and his chest and belly pressing up right into yours. Baptiste can only moan in response, his arms shifting by your side as he props himself up so he won’t crush you. God, you’re perfect. So so perfect. He can feel your fingers shifting until it’s cupping the back of his neck, right where a scar lies; can feel your fingertips swirling around the raised flesh until he’s shivering and putty in your arms. He normally hates that his scars are so sensitive, but right now he’s grateful for them. Grateful for the remnants of suffering that bring him so much pleasure now.

“Mmmm, my love,” he moans into your mouth, his lips trembling from want. He wants more. More of you. His cock aches from the wetness he can feel on the underside of his hardness, so desperate for stimulation that he starts rocking his hips in time to the circles you’re swirling on his neck. “Nnngh, I love it when you do this to me.”

Already tumbling through domspace, you sharpen your gaze enough to pull away from his lips long enough to bite just under his ear. “And what is it that I do to you? Say it, Jean-Baptiste.”

Your lover, your submissive, shakes over you and slumps his weight onto your chest as his arms give in, winding around your back and your waist instead. He whines from the sting of your bite, moans at the soothing tongue that laves over it after. Ruts his hips when you drag your fingers down his spine and dig into the dimples of his back. “I-I love it when you make me feel,” he moans breathlessly, “owned. Loved. Protected.” His knees shift and shuffle, until he has one thigh under yours so he can slot your bodies in perfectly. “I feel warm. Floaty. Like…like I’m in a healing beam.”

“Oh yeah?” Now it’s your turn to feel warm and floaty, and you’re determined to make him melt even more. Slipping one hand between your bodies, you make sure to rasp past his nipples in your journey to his crotch. And just like that, he moans your name even before you touch his needy, leaking cock. “When do you feel the most floaty, hmm?”

“When you-you call me a good boy~” His answer comes immediately, almost stuttered, although maybe it’s more because you’re finally angling his cock into your pussy. “Oh, my love~” On instinct, his hips arch forward to help you sink his sizeable dick into your soaking depths. Bit by bit, he slips inside you, rocking back and forth until you accept all of him.

You’re too busy panting, trying to drag enough air into your lungs to weather his monster cock that seems to spear up into your stomach to notice that Baptiste is drooling a little onto your chest. When you do focus your eyes on him, though, you can see that his eyes have gone all crazy. They both roll into his head one by one and return to normal one by one, both blown wide with desire that they’re pitch black. Baptiste’s body is trembling against you, his other leg coming up and bringing him to a kneeling position between your legs. And that gorgeous mouth? That gorgeous mouth is hanging open in the loudest moan you’ve ever heard from him. A moan that’s just a long, drawn out version of your name.

And then, when he’s fully seated inside you balls deep, he whimpers and drops his head onto your chest in a jolt. Almost like he had an out of body experience and just fell back down to earth. “A-aaahhh.” A groan this time, also particularly loud but it sounds like he’s got his mind back, if only a little. “M-may I move, my love?” His hips are already rocking back and forth slightly, like little waves licking at the shore, but hardly enough to be called thrusting.

Rather than give him verbal permission, you grab a loose hank of rope and loop it around the seat of his thighs like makeshift reigns. A jerk and a pull and Baptiste gets the message, speeding up his rocking hips and deepening his strokes until he’s sinking the entire length of his cock in you with every thrust. It’s not fast, it’s not hard, it’s hardly a pounding, but it feels so much better than any rough fucking you’ve ever had.

Baptiste, too, seems to agree, because he drops his head to your breasts once more, mouthing at the flesh mindlessly, heavy pants heating up your skin. His hands flitter between your thighs and your back, his blunt nails scratching up your skin and digging into the meat of the back of your knee as he hauls you closer with brute strength. The lust-addled yelp he rips from you is exactly what he wants to hear, especially when he did it on an upstroke that buries him hilt deep at the same time.

Your eyes water and your hands tighten on the rope, fists pulling them over his ass so firmly until you could swear that it made an indentation on those firm globes. Baptiste takes that as a sign to go harder, to go faster, until the slapping of your bodies is ringing in both your ears. Until your knees snap around his waist and you growl at him to start touching your clit. To make you cum.

He whimpers into your breast, his head buried in your cleavage, and he manages to lift his stomach high enough so he can jam a hand between you, his thumb going as fast as he dares in quick little circles over your sopping clit. Faster than his strokes, strokes that start to become arhythmic as he grows closer to his end.

“M-my love,” he gasps against your nipple. “Please! Please, I-” His hips start to stutter.

“Make me cum, good boy, come on, make me cum!” You grit out through clenched teeth, bucking against him and rolling your hips so he can hit you in that spot. “Yes! Yesyesyes, oh baby, baby, you got it, you’re so good, ye-aaaaa!” Your orgasm hits you like a mack truck, a mind-wiping rush that takes out every sense with it. Your back arches, your knees clamp around his waist, and you cum hard around his thick cock that’s still fucking you through the throes of your climax.

The slick sound of his cock sinking into your sopping, cumming pussy will be stuck in his mind for ages to come, will fuel his masturbation fantasies for just as long. Baptiste almost sobs when you fall limp under him and grow quiet. He needs to cum so badly, he’s so close he can taste it, but he just can’t cum without your permission. He really, honestly can’t. Not even as he ruts into you through your milking muscles. “My love, please, please let me cum. May I cum, my love, please!” He kisses your neck and up to your ear, muttering pleas even while his hips keep smacking into yours. Oh god, please tell him he can cum.

It’s not his voice that spurs you into action, rather the pleasurable pain of overstimulation in your most tender spot. Dragging your rubbery arms around him, you clamp one hand over the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder as you purr into his ear, “Cum for me, good boy.”

A sound not unlike a dying groan escapes him as he cums on command, his hips mashing so hard against yours that you’re sure you’ll get a bruise there tomorrow. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight, holding you still so he can slam his hips into you three more times as he cums deep inside your pussy. Once it’s all over, he whimpers breathlessly into your ear as he slumps on top of you. He’s boneless. He can’t move. God, he feels like he’s floating.

For what feels like an eternity, he lies atop you, his face buried into your neck as he bellows heated breaths against your skin, his back rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. Your legs are limp around his sides, your hands idly caressing his marked up back and neck, landing on his collar every now and then. Inside you, his cock goes limp and shrinks enough that he slides out of you without even moving, leaving you feeling just a little colder and emptier. Aching.

Baptiste closes his eyes and relaxes further, his already boneless slump becoming heavier as he slips closer to unconsciousness. His arms are still around you, spanning your back and your thigh, keeping him anchored to you as he floats in a warm, cosy abyss. It might be dark to him now but he’s not lonely. Far from it. If he could stay here forever, he could. But if not, he would have this night.

You, on the other hand, stir just a little, enough to grab at a wet towel you prepped earlier. One hand lands on his back to stop him from moving, to keep him limp against you, as you wipe him down as best you can without moving him. He deserves to rest and not have his trip through subspace to be interrupted. You’ll help him come down once he’s ready to return back to solid ground.

In the meantime, you stroke the towel over his face and his back in long, comforting strokes, humming a tune you used to hear when you were younger. When you’ve done all you could, you go back to hugging his head and back to you and nestle down to rest, your cheek against his temple. “Rest now, my good boy. I’ve got you.”

Baptiste smiles softly, kissing the skin he can reach. “Thank you... I-My love.” Not yet. Soon.

[galfridus1]

Have some Pokemon fun for the content creators server’s NNT AU day. Thanks @nerroart for collaborating on this with me and producing this amazing art here! It was so much fun working with you. Let’s do it again!

For @princessfroslass and @okamideimos - your enthusiasm for the NNT Pokemon AU is infectious.

The sun shone warm, golden rays heating their backs and the skin on their arms. It had rained overnight and the world smelled fresh, everything practically bursting with colour. The sky was bright blue and the cobbled streets shone a little as they wove through the legs of the buyers and merchants, laughing as they dodged the citizens of Liones. It was a nice day at the very peak of midsummer, and Howzer and Gilthunder felt happy to be alive.

A shadow fell over them and Howzer looked up, the grin sliding from his face as he saw the Magical Research Building. It was so huge, a towering structure that dominated the skyline. His father had said something about how you could tell who was in power from the height the buildings. First the guild headquarters had soared over the huts and cottages of Liones, then the churches had risen with enormous spires that dwarfed these buildings. Now it was the mage who scared almost everyone, her massive laboratory drawing the eyes of all who walked through the streets of the kingdom.

“I hear she does weird experiments in there.” Howzer puffed up his chest, pleased for once to have intelligence to share with Gilthunder. As the lowly son of a struggling blacksmith, Howzer did not often get to know the court gossip which his friend seemed to come across almost constantly. But the previous day he had been… borrowing a bun from the kitchens and had overheard the cook discussing the mage with the butler. “She even has demon artefacts,” he said with a whisper, glancing eagerly at Gilthunder to watch his reaction.

He found the other’s unimpressed look extremely disappointing. “Of course she does,” Gilthunder said with a shrug. “She’s the mage. Lady Merlin has to carry out research into everything. She even has a collection of Pokémon…”

“She does?” Howzer interrupted, incredulously. “Wow! I bet she has some real rare ones. Do you think she has a Mew, or a Yvetal, or…”

“How do you know so much about Pokémon all of a sudden?” Gilthunder stopped in his tracks and it took Howzer a few seconds to also draw to a halt. He turned a little nervously to see his friend looking at him with an unnerving interest, piercing blue eyes peering into his own.

He decided to tell the truth. “I… have a team of Pokémon,” Howzer admitted as his eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled his feet on the stone path. “I’ve been collecting them for a few months now.”

“No way! So have I!”

Howzer looked back up at Gilthunder in surprise. A soft wind was blowing, bringing with it the scent of rosemary and thyme and ruffling his friend’s mop of magenta hair. The small boy continued, a gleeful grin on his face, “How about a match? I’ve got a new Pokémon I want to try out. Think you can take me on?”

Howzer swallowed hard. Truth be told he did not relish the prospect of a fight whatsoever. The fun of Pokémon was collecting and caring for them, finding the rare ones in the long, swishing grass and carefully catching them in red and white pokéballs. He did not enjoy seeing them fight. In fact, he only really used one of his partners, and that was so he could weaken the wild Pokémon he came across so that they could be caught more easily. But Gilthunder was looking at him so eagerly that Howzer felt he could not refuse.

“Um… sure. Why not?”

Gilthunder whooped for joy and grabbed Hozwer’s arm, pulling him towards the gate in the city walls, jabbering nineteen to the dozen as they sped through the streets. “I love how they change when they get stronger,” Gilthunder enthused. “I’ve been training my Helioptile for ages and I think it’s about to evolve! And you wouldn’t believe how cool my Dedenne is now. It just learned Volt Switch, which is such a great move! The one I’m going to show you today is just the best…” Howzer bit his lip, hard. Evidently his friend had been really training his Pokémon hard.

Eventually the boys slipped through the gate, giving a cheery wave to the Holy Knights as they passed. They made their way towards the neighbouring fields, the chirp of birdsong and the rustling and buzzing of insects growing louder as they moved away from the city. The animals were joyous, celebrating the good weather and the abundance of food, but Howzer could feel his heart growing heavier which each step they took. Gilthunder was practically skipping as their feet left stone for dirt, kicking up dust with their shoes as they neared the clearing where Pokémon fights took place.

Panic gripped Howzer’s chest. “Say, Gil?” he called to the boy who had hopped to the other end of the field and was detaching a pokéball from his belt. “I looks close to noon already. Maybe we should each fight with just one Pokémon, yeah? That way we can get back for lunch.”

“Awww!” Howzer hardly dared breathe. Gilthunder sounded pretty disappointed. “I wanted to show you all of my party,” the boy added with a bit of a pout. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. And I wanted to train with Sir Meliodas this afternoon. He told me yesterday he’s got a Rayquaza! I can’t wait to see it! Well, alright. Here we go. Mareep, I choose you!” As Gilthunder spoke, the pokéball in his hand opened a crack, red mist rising from the depths to pool and swirl round his legs. Howzer watched as the vapour started to take shape, forming an animal with four, stumpy legs, a fluffy body and two pointed ears. The sheep stood squarely on the ground, looking at Howzer with daggers for eyes, blue flashes of lightning cracking over its pelt.

With difficulty, Howzer took a pokéball from his own belt, his fingers fumbling with the clasp. Sweat beaded his hands, impeding his movements and he cursed under his breath as he nearly dropped his prize. He snuck another quick look at the Mareep standing opposite and could see from its aggressive stance that it meant business. His own Pokémon did not stand a chance.

“Farfetch’d, I choose you.” Once more red mist crept over the battlefield, crimson whorls swirling in the air. As his Pokémon materialised, shaking itself, chest puffed out with pride, Howzer heard a snort from the other side of the field. He looked up to see Gilthunder clutching his sides, face bright red as he attempted to stifle his laughter.

“What is that thing?” his friend cried as he broke out into fits of giggles. “What even… I mean… it’s carrying a leek! Is it telling us what to eat with it for dinner?”

Howzer felt his face flush red as the laughter continued, the blush pushing down into his neck. “Your Pokémon looks pretty stupid, too,” he muttered angrily as the laughter continued.

At once, Gilthunder’s face turned dark. “How could you?” he yelled as the Mareep’s fur sparked angrily. “This beauty,” he emphasised, his voice laced with hurt, “evolves into an Ampharos. An Ampharos, Howzer,” Gilthunder added as if he were talking to an imbecile. “It is one of the rarest and most powerful Pokémon in this part of the world. And this Mareep is going to show your bird what for! Why have you been bothering with that thing anyway?”

Howzer grit his teeth and did not respond. Farfetch’d was the most useful Pokémon he had. He had been overjoyed to find a TM, conveniently hiding in a log in the woods. The Technical Machine would teach a compatible partner to use False Swipe, the best move available for catching wild Pokémon. At the time, the only companion he had who could learn the technique was the Farfetch’d he had managed to trap down by the river. Once the duck had mastered this move, Howzer had used it and it only in every single fight, deploying False Swipe time after time. The move was perfect for catching as it ensured that he drained the health of the opposing Pokémon without causing them to fall into a faint. He had been so very pleased, his eye on the prize of completing his pokédex, but it was perhaps not the best strategy to prepare for trainer battles.

“Let’s go. Mareep, use Electo Ball!” Gilthunder smiled as huge spheres of light flew from the sheep. The fast, golden orbs raced over the field, the static charge causing the hairs to stand on the back of Hozwer’s neck. But he grinned broadly as Gilthunder yelled in surprise, biting back laughter as his friend’s head jerked left and right, searching in vain for the odd-looking duck.

But of course it was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, a feathered bomb fell from the sky, dropping like a heavy stone. The Farfetch’d hurtled through the air, aiming straight for Mareep’s head. Under his breath, Howzer had ordered it to use Fly, and it had immediately soared upwards, avoiding the sheep’s electric attack. As the duck’s palmate feet made contact, Mareep bleated in surprise, and it fell to the ground with a bump as its legs slipped from under it. Gilthunder practically roared, but then regained his composure as the sheep got hesitatingly back up onto its hooves.

“Are you okay?” Gilthunder asked softly, and his jaw set with determination as the sheep gave a defiant baa in return. “Great. Then use Thunderbolt.” At once, sheets of electricity rolled across the field, zapping the Farfetch’d before it could dodge. The duck gave an indignant quack as the lightning hit, and Howzer squeaked, wincing as he smelled burning feathers.

“Farfetch’d!” the duck croaked. It waddled back towards Howzer, its eyes seeming to glow red. It was livid, furious, beyond peeved. The wild Pokémon round Liones were not a high level and the battles the duck had experienced did not usually leave much of a mark. It was clearly not happy with the current arrangement, and Howzer could practically taste its anger on the air.

“It’s okay, I’ve got an idea,” Howzer whispered and, grudgingly, the duck moved closer towards him. As Howzer explained, it nodded its head, then turned to face the Mareep once more. “Use Double Team,” Howzer commanded and Farfetch’d quacked with joy as it duplicated itself. Soon there were dozens of birds on the field and Howzer felt his spirits rise. “Deal with that!” he yelled in triumph over the noise of the ducks, who were all quacking loudly as they swished their leeks back and forth. “You won’t find the real one.”

But Gilthunder did not look as if he had even broken a sweat. “We got this! Mareep, use Discharge!” Tens of little bolts shot from the Mareep’s fluffy coat, each one aiming for a different duck. As the rays hit their targets, one by one the bodies of the false birds flickered then faded to nothing. The Mareep was relentless, sending flash after flash towards each of the clones until there were only a few Farfetch’d scattered across the field. With a baa of triumph, the Mareep sent another handful of bolts over the terrain, one smashing into Howzer’s partner with an almighty crack. The duck screamed in pain, flapping its wings furiously and throwing its beak into the air and its leek unceremoniously onto the ground.

Howzer ran to his Farfetch’d at once. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he tried to stroke the duck’s feathers. But his Pokémon was having none of it. With a huff, it tried to snap at Howzer’s fingers, before stomping towards its end of the battlefield, its tufted tail shaking from side to side as it moved. “Farfetch’d,” Howzer called desperately as his duck kept walking away, “come back! We have to finish this fight!” Howzer felt his heart sink as Farfetch’d ignored him, pointedly. He turned reluctantly back to Gilthunder, who stood with his back ramrod straight and his hand lightly resting on the Mareep at his side.

“The match is over,” Gilthunder gloated as he looked over at the duck, which had its back turned to the rest of them and was clearly in a black sulk. “You know what your problem is?” the boy continued to explain. “Your Pokémon is too powerful for you. It’s too high a level for a trainer who hasn’t beaten any gym masters. If you want it to listen to you, you need to earn its respect.”

“What do you know?” Howzer pressed his lips together, taking deep gulps of air to try and calm the sudden lump that rose in his throat. He loved Farfetch’d, really and truly. They had spent so many months together catching Pokémon, delving into tall grass and fishing in the river, and he had assumed the bird felt exactly the same. Now, he was faced with a painful alternate reality, one that he was totally unwilling to accept. “We’re still in. Both of us,” Howzer declared as he stared at Gilthunder with determined eyes.

Gilthunder hesitated, then took several paces across the field. “Howzer,” he said gently, “are you sure about this. It’s okay to give up, I promise I won’t make fun of you,” he added seriously.

“No! We’re still in. Farfetch’d use False Swipe,” Howzer yelled in the direction of the duck. The bird spun around, then stalked towards him and Howzer felt relief flood his senses and blood pound in his ears. His partner was going to listen to him after all.

Seeing the duck’s movement, Gilthunder exclaimed, “Use Confuse Ray,” as he ran back towards his Mareep. The sheep stood up on its hind legs and opened its mouth, just as the Farfetch’d sat in a heap on the ground, its leek lying on the floor beside it. “No stop!” Gilthunder screamed on seeing the bird’s disobedience, but his command came too late. A stream of purple shot from the sheep’s mouth, lighting up the surrounding grass with a mulberry haze as it headed straight towards Farfetch’d at a frightening pace.

Howzer acted without thought. Quick as a flash he dived between the pulse of power and the duck. The beam of light hit him square in the chest and Howzer staggered back, shaking his head as he tried to stay upright. The world was suddenly blurry and everything was wrong, the sky shining vermillion below him as he stumbled on magenta cloud.  

“You’re not allowed to do that!” Howzer heard the voice through a bank of fog, and he strained to understand the meaning of the words. “You’re not allowed to take hits for your Pokémon!” the whiny voice continued, but Howzer found he did not care what it was saying. He stood up on shaky legs, tilting his head up to the sky as familiar objects floated down towards him.

“Cakes!” Howzer jumped up and down trying to catch the confections which dropped like rain through the sweet-smelling air. “There’s strawberry! My favourite,” Howzer said enthusiastically, his mouth watering as he spied piles of cream and fruit. Farfetch’d liked cream, too... This last thought brought Howzer back to himself a little. “You’re wrong about Farfetch’d,” he slurred through his daze. “It’s an amazing Pokémon and I love it and it’s the best partner ever so there!”

As Howzer stumbled over the ground, his tongue lolling slightly and his eyes glazed, the Farfetch’d heard his defiant words. Slowly, carefully, the bird got to its feet, dusting itself off and retrieving its leek, tucking the prized vegetable under its arm. It waddled towards its master, purpose in every step, until it was close enough to peck at the boy. Then it launched itself into the air, landing a hard hit on Howzer’s head with the green end of its leek.

Howzer groaned, cradling his head in his hands as the world righted itself. He felt dizzy, sick and shocked, as if he had been doused in cold water. A quack of “Farfetch’d!” brought him back to his senses. He looked down as his vision stabilised to see his partner standing before him, its beak apparently curved in a smile.

“You want to fight?” Howzer asked and the duck quacked in response, waving its leek in the air to show its agreement. Howzer looked over to Gilthunder, whose head was cocked to one side, and grinned to see his friend’s answering nod. “Okay then!” he exclaimed. “Then would you use False Swipe, please?” he asked the duck, which flapped its wings and rushed straight towards the Mareep.

The sheep gave a bleat as the duck’s blow landed, and it wobbled unsteadily on its feat for several seconds. When it had steadied itself, the sheep pawed at the dirt and sent out the energy of Thunderbolt in response to Gilthunder’s command.

“Dodge it!” Howzer yelled, and he felt his heart sing with joy as his Farfetch’d listened to him without demure. The bird rose into the air, weaving easily through the streaks of power as the lightning tried to catch it, effectively evading the Mareep’s attack. “You’re awesome!” Howzer called and the bird nodded in response, saluting the boy with its leek as it flew past its master, not even one feather out of place.

“Now hit it with Fury Attack,” Howzer commanded. Instantly the bird rounded on the sheep, smacking its leek over and over into the Mareep’s body. Of the five blows it landed, two hit with incredible force. “Critical hit!” Howzer yelled as the duck let forth a quack. The Mareep staggered, then fell, it’s legs sprawling under it as its eyes were replaced with swirls of black. The sheep was out cold, and unable to fight. Gilthunder murmured softly as his Pokémon returned to its ball. Against all the oods, Farfetch’d had won the match.

“You did really well, both of you.”

Howzer straightened up from where he had been kneeling so as to spray Farfetch’d with a hyper potion. Gilthunder held out his hand, a happy smile on his face, but Howzer hesitated. As if reading his mind, Gilthunder continued, “It doesn’t matter that you took the Confuse Ray, I think you won fair and square. And you’re right, Farfetch’d is amazing. I’m sorry I was rude. The match is yours.” Gilthunder stretched out his hand a bit more, and this time Howzer took it, the pair moving their arms up and down in celebration of their friendship.

“You were right too, I need to respect my Pokémon,” Howzer said as the boys walked back to the city, Farfetch’d marching along at their heels. “I’m going to train and battle and win them over.” The bird squarked at this and tapped Howzer’s leg with its leek, and the pair exchanged glances, understanding passing between them.

“Then come and battle Sir Meliodas with me,” Gilthunder urged excitedly. “We’ll get stronger together.” With a whoop, the two boys ran back to the city, Farfetch’d flying behind them as they chattered and laughed.

[scripttorture]

(1/) One of my characters has been in captivity for around 4 years. He's been fed properly, allowed sleep whenever he needs it, and has a moderately large cell for him to move around in. For the first 3 years or so of his confinement he would spend 6 or so hours of every day in tests and experiments (he was awake for some, tranquilized for some, and straight unconscious for some). After those 3 years they were finished with all possible tests they could do on him and so he has essentially been

(myconnection died when I hit send on part 2 of my ask so I am reallynot sure if you got it or not, if you did please ignore this, andI've lost my place in my thinking so I'm sorry if this is messy ordoesn't make sense anymore) (2/) after the 3 years of the tests andexperiments, they're done, so they essentially just leave him insolitary confinement. His mental state of course just depletes evenfurther. He physically harms himself [managing to keep it from hiscaptors who have just left(3/If you received the origional number 2 you can ignore this too) lefthim to rot in his cell (which is mid size, not particularly damp, notrat infested, but bare with only a toilet). He continues to be fedproperly and allowed to sleep whenever he needs it but he startsphysically harming himself. [I'm sorry this ask series is quicklybecoming messy, I can't remember what I have already told you]. Afterhis second suicide attempt they decide to bring him a playmate: agirl a few years(4/or 3/ if you received the origional 2). years younger than he is at17. They don't perform any tests on her, she's really just there assomething for him to latch onto. I want them to become close and veryprotective of each other, but how would this sudden introductionaffect him? I imagine he would be skittish and wary, with almost nosocial skills given the length of time and his age, but I'm not surewhich direction to go. Thank you for your patience with my mess!

Noneed to apologise tumblr can be a mess. :)

Oneof the things that’s standing out for me here is the potential todownplay how difficult this would be for both characters. Thatdoesn’tmean they can’t have a positive relationship or be protective ofeach other. And I completely understand how it feels writing twocharacters that you really want to get along.

ButI think given the severity of the situation it’s important toinclude problems and set backs as their relationship develops.

He’sbeen treated abominably and has some very severe problems as aresult. He’s also just had a massivechange introduced to his environment with no warning. She’s beendropped into this, is probably very scared and probably doesn’thave a deep understanding of his health problems. On top of thatshe’s being expected to somehow ‘fix’ him by people she’s nowdependant on for her survival.

They’reboth under a huge amount of stress and pressure when this starts. Andthey’re both traumatised.

Trynot to give in to the temptation to make it easy. Give them the spaceand time to have the relationship develop properly, hiccups and all.

I’vefound sometimes having an end goal in mind for the relationship canhelp writing bits where the characters are struggling with eachother.

There’sa romantic relationship I’ve been writing recently, thesecharacters have known each other for years and had crushes on eachother for about as long. But when they finally start a romanticrelationship it is, despite their best intentions, disastrous.

Oneof the character’s is from a minority ethnic group in the countryand she’s also just had a massive loss in her life. The othercharacter doesn’t realise just how big this loss was, in part bynot understanding the full cultural importance of that relationship.This situation, the first character’s understandable emotionaldifficulties at the time and the second character’s lack ofknowledge about her culture, all form a pretty negative atmospherethat nearly kills their friendly relationship completely.

Andit’s hard writing that, showing things going so badly when you wantor need them to go well.

Butoften in fiction these conflicts are an opportunity to give thecharacters a deeper understanding of each other. They’re anessential part of the process of building a really solidrelationship. Without the arguments and drama those culturalmisunderstandings caused my characters would have carried on with avery shallow view of each other. And that shallow view would haveultimately doomed their relationship.

Withyour story I think one of the key things is to appreciate howdifficult a situation the girl is in.

Theboy has been tortured and from everything you’ve said I think youappreciate how much he’s suffering. But she’s been suddenlydropped into a situation where she’s expected to ‘fix’ all ofthat. Which is a hugely unrealistic expectation to put on anyone.

Theaverage psychologist would struggle in this situation. I think mostpsychologists with considerable experience working with traumasurvivors would struggle. So an untrained teenager in the sameposition- is going to have considerable problems.

Ithink I have… above average experience with mental illness andpeople in distress, considering that I’m a lay-person rather than aprofessional. And some of that experience was gained as a teenager oryounger. But I know I couldn’t ‘cope’ well at that age in thatsituation.

Abig part of this relationship developing is going to be… showinghow tough mental illness can be to deal with without assigning blameto the character for his mental illness.

Dependingon the symptoms you’ve picked out for him he could be incrediblyaggressive, unresponsive, spend hours talking about how awful hefeels/how he wants to die and so forth. That’s hard for the personon the other end.

It’seven harder when she has no way of taking time to herself to unwindand care for herself.  There’s no where for her to retreat when,for instance, talking about suicide becomes too upsetting.

Noneof which is the boy’s fault. But I can very easily see how adistressed child could blame him for his symptoms causing her evenmore distress. And I can see how he’d struggle to comfort herbecause he’s not really learnt how to.

Honestand open communication is part of the answer. That will allow each ofthem to learn what helps and what distresses the other person. But itwill take time and they’ll both still make mistakes. One of thecommon ones I’ve found is assuming that because something helpsyou/someone else you knew with this condition it ‘should’ helpthis different person now. That isn’t always the case.

Therewill probably be moments when one of them feels awful and the otherone just doesn’t feel like they’ve got the energy to ‘deal withit’. But they’re trapped in the same room and don’t have achoice.

Sharedantagonism towards their captors will probably help somewhat. It’sa small piece of common ground.

They’llalso need to learn how to give each other emotional ‘space’ inthis cramped environment. They’ll need to learn to be patient witheach other.

Andwhile the boy will almost certainly have worse symptoms (and the girlwas introduced to help him) I think it’s important to show that heis going to have to help her deal with her trauma sometimes as well.

Todo this sort of relationship justice you need to make sure it has thenarrative time and space to progress.

Ifind that having a plan of attack can help with that. For me thatusually means having a clear idea of how their relationship starts,what I want the end point to be and a couple of key moments inbetween where the relationship shifts.

Someof those might be big blow up arguments that help lead the charactersto more open and honest communication. Some might be quieter momentsof comfort. I’ve found the content and action matters less than theemotional resolution and understanding. Lots of little shifts inperception and understanding gradually getting the characters to thestate you’d like them to be in.

Thesudden introduction is likely to affect both characters negatively.But that doesn’t really have to do with the other person, it’sabout the lack of control they have over their lives and theirenvironment.

Itwould set off the boy’s mental health problems and emphasisefeelings of helplessness they’ll both be experiencing. But that issomething they can get past. It’s a temporary dip caused bydisruption. And any change in routine for someone who is severelymentally ill can cause a dip or low period.

Theexact responses would depend on the individual and exactly whatsymptoms you’ve picked out for them. In broad terms though most ofhis mental illnesses would get briefly worse, there’s likely to bean especially noticeable jump in symptoms related to anxiety,depression and aggression.

Idon’tknow if self harm would increase as a result. It would depend partlyon what’s driving self harm in this character particularly.Essentially this sort of sudden change makes people extremelystressed and when you have a mental illness that tends to manifest inunhealthy ways with an increase in symptoms.

Thisin itself may provide a first moment of understanding in theirrelationship; the realisation that the other person isn’t at faulteven if they’re ‘difficult’ or distressing. The situation isbeyond the control of both victims but they may initially assignblame for it to each other. Reaching an emotional point where theycan accept that isn’t the case is going to be a necessary step. Andhaving it early on may help you set a more positive, healing tone forthe rest of the relationship.

I’dalso suggest including moments which show the characters they canrely on each other for help and support. It would probably take theboy a long time to really appreciate that and have it sink in.Difficulty trusting others would be normal in a child as traumatisedas he is.

Thevillains could be used to help cement that idea by providingsomething they’re both opposed to and working against.

OverallI think you’re approaching this in a good way and I think whatyou’ve got in mind is possible. It’s about structuring and pacingthe narrative to show the emotional work and relationshipdevelopment. There’s a lot to fit in when you’re planning totackle something this complicated. And that’s OK. But it can comewith pacing difficulties; the progress of the relationship stillneeds to be something readers are looking forward to.

It’sa difficult balancing act, including all these elements in a story. Ithink getting some beta readers or joining a writing group could helpyou a lot. Because sometimes it’s difficult to judge if you’vehit the right emotional tone consistently. Readers help with that.

Ithink you’ll also find a lot of good information related to thecharacters’ age groups on @scripttraumasurvivors blog. Almosteverything I’ve just talked about applies to adults as much aschildren. I have much less knowledge about child development andsymptoms or behaviours specific to children thanScriptTraumaSurvivors. Going through their tags on child abuse willhelp you make both character’s responses more age-appropriate.

Ihope that helps. :)

Disclaimer

[helltore-a]

            welcome to the first episode of THE BLOGCHELOR starring me !  

      this has been in production for MONTHS and i am here to deliver for mutuals and non - mutuals alike ,  this is  FREE TO JOIN FOR ALL .  i will be doing this fortnightly or monthly  (  depending on my schedule )  with at least 5 BLOGS reviewed for however way they will take my perspective to improve and grow for the better.  feel free to take it or leave it. 

      THE RATING WORKS ON THE RANGE OF 5 / 5:  with 1 as has so much room for potential and improvement ,  3 as passable and your blog works as functionally and practically as it should ,  and 5 as with flying colors that your blog works but with good extras.  READ FULL CRITERIA DESCRIPTION HERE.

01.  @msscre​ .  fandomless oc by pax.

ACCESSIBILITY  /    NAVIGABILITY.     ★★★★★ With this kind of theme having maximum number of 4 links ,  I like how the first thing your blog immediately showed me is the links because the boxes and font color just pops out. You did what you can with limited url slots and the navigation page for everything makes it easier for everyone to browse through since they’re all redirected pages.   ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   In my opinion ,  it’s better to have a good balance and choice of usage between redirected pages and custom pages. Too much use of custom pages for the aesthetic can be annoying for a potential partner browsing your blog because most people just want to read your content and not to be kept redirected to different pages ,  especially if they’re incoherent with no uniform choice of design.  Worst combo to send your potential partners away since they can also feel lazy not to read your content.  Yes ,  people do that and it’s not their fault since the human brain has limited attention span.  Too much redirected pages works if you want simple ,  straightforward navigation but it wouldn’t hurt to add a little flair sometimes.  This flair can be from the custom page and redirected page mix usage or from how your content is formatted too.

VISUAL IMPACT  /   AESTHETICS.      ★★★★  Absolutely love the consistency in your theme color palette !  Neutrals and red as highlights is a good duo.  Everyone is entitled to their own tastes of their representation and interpretation of their muses ,  though might I suggest that the color of your highlights be a little lighter ?  The theme and fonts are neutrals and dark ,  so it will help the eyes adjust and find the emphasised content you’re aiming to be read if your highlights are light or medium light so not to deviate with the theme’s aesthetic. However ,  I don’t feel your font for the header though ...  seems a bit off for me but it’s just a difference between preferences ,  no biggie. ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   It’s always good to have a good choice of what font goes with what.  In my case I use a lot of font sizes and properties to complement the theme with the format or the actual font used.  Usually I do cursive and straight combination ,  not one over other overpowering each other.  Google Fonts with html codes and stuff is your best friend. 

SUBSTANCE  /         INFORMATIVE.    ★★★★  Good info on the biography and verses since they have whatever pumps the blog alive.  I don’t know if it’s in your intentions but a PERSONALITY section is good too in supporting your psychological evaluation stats page since mostly ,  numbers don’t really make sense to humans.  They’re more of the qualitative type ,  makes it easier for them to understand if you link those numbers to words of brief description of your muse’s behavior and attitude.  This is especially crucial for OCs to have as one of my preferences so I’ll know if our muses can clash for fun or just clash without sense ...  you can gauge what an interaction can be just by reading the other’s personality section and see how it helps with the plotting and relationship dynamic.

READABILITY  /        LEGIBILITY.          ★★★★  The colour of the highlights is what I’ve said earlier but overall ,  the font colors are good since I can read them.

BRANDING  /        WOW FACTOR.       ★★★★★ The mysteriousness with the PERSONALITY section gone can be a pro and con sometimes and since I read your about page ,  there’s suspense in how you came up with her name because it’s really thought - evoking.  I associate your muse with a greek figure and it gives me something to think about especially as it can help me pinpoint a plot for us ,  if ever.  I also appreciate the stats page like they’re very unique with some stats I’ve never seen before so it makes up for the substance as well.  There’s visual - spatial intelligence ,  etc. which makes your muse unique due to that analysis.  Little details matter.

02.  @jollynephilim .  supernatural’s  jack kline by dipper.

ACCESSIBILITY  /    NAVIGABILITY.     ★★★★ Might enhance a bit with positioning since some of the links are scattered on top of the side header  WHO IS IN CONTROL  which makes it hard for me to ignore in a visual - wise focus.  You can also experiment by using other symbols or images since the links are eye - catching due to animation. 

VISUAL IMPACT  /  AESTHETICS.      ★★★  I’ve been very familiar with this kind of theme since I am guilty of being tempted to use the same ,  although this one has become mainstream so I am very used to seeing the same formula over and over again.  Something new might be good or an innovation of the original theme though it doesn’t mean you should sell your soul to photoshop or html masters.  The background edit is well - appreciated since it blends with the dark color palette you chose.  You can make your theme a little bit refined with the bars by changing their gray rose  ( ?? )  background to something  continuous  since the way I view it on my browser ,  I can see where the background picture of the bars started and ended.   ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   Being continuous and blending are two elements useful in visually enhancing one’s blog.  It shows unity and consistency.  Be careful in integrating too much of the links or headers in the background because it can get to the point that it’s annoying to find or read through bleeding colours of the theme and other factors.  

SUBSTANCE  /         INFORMATIVE.    ★★★  Love the profile ,  brief and concise.  Can do something more with adding a few rare info that will make your Jack stand out from others ...  Nevertheless ,  I like how informed I am with the  BACKGROUND  since for someone who hadn’t caught up with Supernatural ,  it works.

READABILITY  /        LEGIBILITY.         ★★★★★ Readable.  However the highlight color concerns me since it doesn’t complement the background color palette because the blue sticks out ,  but other than that ,  it works.

BRANDING  /        WOW FACTOR.       ★★★  Add a bit more on the info and finding a selling point on a  BRAND  that will classify your Jack as their own.  Like putting out something new that will make your muse distinguishable from other duplicates.  Additionally ,  I’ve seen your threads or opens and they are very intriguing since they give rise to questionable exploration of sensitive topics ,  which is good since it’s a different approach to Jack’s character.

03.  @kidhnter​​ .  supernatural’s claire novak by heather.

ACCESSIBILITY  /    NAVIGABILITY.     ★★★★ Everything is accessible except the ask box.  Hopefully you can fix the codes for that.

VISUAL IMPACT  / AESTHETICS.      ★★★★ I’ve been guilty in trying the same formula in themes ,  but you get a star instead of three for bonus in using a complementary color palette.  However it gives me the signal that it’s playing too safe so you might like to consider using dark or light shades of one font color if one color is your drift.  The black starry header sticks out for me ,  and you can edit it to even or level out the gradient since it seems cut off in the middle in my view.  Being continuous and consist are qualities in keeping an aesthetic alive.

SUBSTANCE  /         INFORMATIVE.    ★★★  Fun facts or trivias are really appreciated since I use the same formula depending on which muse I have ,  so I really like that cute bit.  But I can’t give an overall review since your page is still incomplete which is totally understandable. ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   One of my biggest pet peeves that turn me off is when people have blogs but don’t have much in their pages.  I understand that they haven’t found the time to complete them because real life comes first ,  but at least give me a little information especially if I don’t know your muse and I’m not too interested to look them up in my search bar ,  sorry.  I’d rather read someone’s writing that’s not copy pasted from wikia than actually reading on wikia because it gives me an insight on how this person writes.  Do they focus on content and details ?  Do they write in purple prose or straightforward ?  Things like that are analysed whenever I read someone’s about pages.  Usually before I release a blog out in the wild ,  I complete my pages as soon as possible with deliberate planning because I don’t want to advertise an  EMPTY  blog.

READABILITY  /        LEGIBILITY.         ★★★★★ Very readable since everything is organised and categorised through the theme’s menu and aesthetic appeal plus function.

BRANDING  /        WOW FACTOR.       ★★★★★   Gold and black makes a statement ,  take advantage of that color scheme and remember the starry background of your bars.  I love the BIKER BARBIE bit because it has its charismatic appeal and different format on how usually people do that.  BIKER BARBIE  brand is iconic for claire and I can see where you’re coming from ,  but from an analytic perspective ,  it’s also a clash of character for claire but harmoniously it works out.  Good job ,  makes it easy for me and very distinguishable to remember your brand that makes me think that Ah ,  this is the BIKER BARBIE claire.

04.  @crackedfaith .  supernatural’s castiel by vix.

ACCESSIBILITY  /    NAVIGABILITY.     ★★★★★ Very thought out due to the number of links and the flow of the story of your blog through the order of the links. ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   Content is not the only thing you should plan writing for.  The moment you have the blog is the same moment you’ve already started writing your interpretation which is seen in the way you presented your blog through graphic edits ,  links , pages ,  etc.   Content is not the only thing that tells your character’s story ,  your blog does too and that’s why it’s important to pay attention to details.

VISUAL IMPACT  / AESTHETICS.      ★★★★  This theme sure as hell takes your time coding so I really appreciate and love how you made it your own.  I feel ,  because I used the same theme in different occasion and it’s a pain to code but totally worth it.  I love the colours very much ... They give an outer - worldly vibe but at the same time ,  very much Castiel. ➤ GENERAL ADVICE FOR EVERYONE :   Visual impact and aesthetics may affect your branding and people’s impression of you and your muse ,  but it does not define you.  Always remember that.  It does give identity though so like I said ,  pay attention to even the tiniest details because you never know who reads your blog.  Visual impact and aesthetics also affect readability levels ,  take note of that one since overly coded and overly aesthetic blogs can repel writers who can’t read shit due to lots of glitters on the blog and all other many stuff going on that they can’t understand.  

SUBSTANCE  /         INFORMATIVE.    ★★★  Since you haven’t completed your about and verses pages ,  I cannot say it works but I appreciate that the guidelines are already set.  Very ,  very critical piece to put in the blog because it is what dictates if you will write or will you not write with others.   

READABILITY  /        LEGIBILITY.         ★★★  Don’t know if you can change the font but as much as if you can ,  do it.  The main chubby font works on the container but it doesn’t work on the sidebar.  I had to squint my eyes to make out the words because of the heavily color gray.  Try using lighter shades for font color and other styles as well.  Google Fonts is your best friend.

BRANDING  /        WOW FACTOR.       ★★★★★ Very iconic.  GRACE/LESS tagline is such a catch for me ,  it’s really great.  The background also has an impact on me because it reminds me of the cosmos ,  of the time of The Fall scene ,  and I love how you incorporated the sense of falling in your graphics.

05.  @sanguinebite .  van helsing’s verona by demi.

ACCESSIBILITY  /    NAVIGABILITY.   ★★★★★ On the side and easily seen.  Clean cut ,  just pops out next to sidebar. 

VISUAL IMPACT  / AESTHETICS.    ★★★★  Can do a bit more with the font used on the sidebar and its format.  I love Times New Roman and its use in this theme.  Maybe try experimenting with shades of black and gray and consider giving other colors a chance for highlights so people can see what you’re emphasising through bold ,  italic properties.  Other than that ,  overall theme is a choice that works.  The cursor is cute and the edit on the sidebar photo looks cool ,  so extra points for those two.

SUBSTANCE  /         INFORMATIVE.    ★★ Kind of empty ,  but the rules are established so that’s appreciated.  It helps that I know your muse but what if other people don’t know ?  I suggest doing a temporary info scribbles on the pages or just a simple TBA / WIP. 

READABILITY  /        LEGIBILITY.         ★★★★ Readable ,  I don’t have to squint so much so that’s a good thing.  It depends on the device used about the font size ,  but try making the font size a bit bigger for the body since it’s too small for me.

BRANDING  /        WOW FACTOR.       ★★★  Older than Rome itself holds great potential to immortality vibes of branding material ,  it’s a good tagline I like.  Maybe you can link your muse to a roman figure and create a brand from there.  Qualities also help you think about a good brand as well as your muse’s history.  Who or what reminds you of your muse ?  What can you take from there and make it your own ?

[hellomissmabel]

Little Monster part 5

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Foul language, mentions of sex but without explicit content. If this isn’t your cup of tea, please skip!

Word count: 2.303

Summary: Wanda’s loyalties are tested and Steve has a change of heart.

A/N: I’ve been suffering from serious writer’s block. All I can seem to get on the page is crap. This is my attempt at restoring the balance and getting myself out there again. Hope you like it.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Disclaimer: I don’t own these images.

Wanda’s POV

I’m sitting in the cafeteria, minding my own business and sharing a cigarette with my brother, when I see her strutting over to me. Y/N fucking Y/L/N. She’s wearing a sexy, deep red dress, turning all the heads of all the boys, with her high heels and that shy, innocent smile. When she sits down in front of me, I catch Pietro subtly adjusting the growing bulge in his pants. Her sweet perfume is overwhelming and makes me gag but Pietro seems to take a fancy to it. He’s always had a soft spot for Y/N.

“Hi, Wanda,” she greets me in a chipper voice. She then turns to Pietro and her smile falters, a hard look glazing over her eyes. “Pietro,” she acknowledges him shortly before returning her undivided attention back to me. “Wanda, I was hoping I’d catch you here. I wanna apologise to you. I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

She sounds sincere and maybe she is, but with Y/N you can never be sure. I might know little about her but in the short while I’ve spent studying her and her squad, I have come to a couple realisations. She likes to scheme and invent all these little intrigues but they’re all just that, little. She doesn’t see what’s going on, she doesn’t see the bigger picture and it’s what makes her a vulnerable yet easy target. For both Rogers as well as me.

Pietro casually kinks an eyebrow at me, having taken the hint that his presence is no longer welcome. “See ya later, sis,” he says while handing me the rest of the cigarette. “Y/N, always good to see you, too.”

My brother speeds off to his next class and once he’s out of earshot, I continue my conversation with Y/N. “Hey Y/N. No need for apologies. I was a little hard on you but it’s all good now.”

Her face lights up at my dismissal of her apology and she claps her hands in happiness like a little child. “You’re the best.”

“So when do you have your next appointment with professor Rogers?”

Y/N looks down at her watch, saying “In exactly one hour and 38 minutes. Wait, make that 37 minutes now.”

I almost choke on my tea, just about avoiding spitting it all across the table and onto that pretty little number she’s wearing. “You’re going to your seminar dressed like that?,” I gasp in disbelief, gesturing to her exposed cleavage. Looking at me curiously, she turns her head to the side as to contemplate whether or not I’m serious. “You look like you’re dressed for a hot date or something,” I clarify as I wave my hand and gesture towards her chosen attire.

No matter the promise I made to Steve to give Y/N a kind nudge in his direction, I don’t want the poor creature to make it too easy on me. She’s not a nice person but she isn’t a bad person either, making this my hardest dilemma up until  now. I had no problem screwing my superior for a few extra perks, all modesty thrown out of the window when I paid some poor freshman (I think Peter Parker was his name but now I’m not sure anymore) to take a couple pics as leverage. I didn’t mind the little punk saw my naked ass in the making of these scandalous photographs because what I did care about was bringing down the men who are responsible.

Me and my brother have made a pact together, that we would slowly but surely weasel our way into the lives of the men that had, some unwillingly and some unknowingly and some deliberately, destroyed lives. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were the top three names on that list. Pietro wanted to make quick work of Barnes but it has proven to be quite the challenge, so while he was working his way into the inner circle of Barnes’ mob business, I tried my best tricks on professor Rogers. This was necessary to work my way up to Stark, the sick fuck that’s going to get what he deserves one way or another.

Poor Y/N is just getting in the way of that goal.

“Well, yes, I am,” she confirms my suspicions.

“Bucky is taking me to that new restaurant that opened a few nights ago. Said he wanted to talk to me about something. Ask me something.”

Again I have to refrain myself from spilling my drink. He’s going to ask her something. I can’t help but feel my heart sink a little but not because I’m in love with that selfish prick. Although I do like the thought of getting thoroughly fucked by Bucky Barnes, other than pure, unadulterated lust I have no other feelings for the guy. Nevertheless, Barnes is still the lesser of two evils and I do believe he actually, genuinely loves Y/N.

She leans in closer, beckoning me to come closer as well. “I think he might propose to me, Wanda,” Y/N whispers carefully, apparently not wanting to jinx the entire thing.

“Are you going to say yes?” is the only question on my mind. She bites her lower lip, thinking it over. Obviously, her first response is yes. She would die for her fella, that much is true. But she’s still very young and flourishing. Y/N can’t get any man she pleases with just the blink of an eye, she’s not that attractive and frankly, not that kind of girl as well. She has her modesty and only goes all out whenever she’s trying to impress Bucky. She knows her value, I must at least give her that much.

“I am,” she nods softly, smiling to herself at the prospect of becoming Bucky’s wife. It sickens me how happy she is. But what I despise the most about her is that she’s willing to marry Barnes and have an affair with Rogers.

I need to get out of there, I need to change gears. “I gotta go, babe.”

She looks disappointed that I can’t stay any longer but she won’t have to wait much longer before her appointment with professor Rogers. I wonder if he’s going to bend her over his desk this time or be able to keep his dick in his pants for one more session. In any case, that dress she’s wearing won’t help his case.

Y/N’s POV

What I told Wanda wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the truth either. Bucky is indeed going to ask me something but no way is he going to propose. That was all just a ruse to keep her from stealing my man away from me.

The next hour passes quickly and soon I find myself knocking on the door of professor Rogers’ office. I might’ve worn this dress on purpose and not just for my date with Buck. After this I still have another hour or two before he’s picking me up which is enough to switch outfits and touch up my make-up. I might’ve just picked out this dress because I saw him wear a Henley in the exact same colour yesterday when I accidentally bumped into him in the hallway. Though nothing happened, just an awkward exchange of looks and smiles and sideway glances.

So it’s no surprise that upon entering his office, his breath hitches in his throat. Believe me, I take no pleasure in riling up my superiors but this is for a good cause. I need to fucking pass this course. I have to. I want to graduate and have a life with Bucky, I can’t exactly make that happen when I’m falling behind on everything that isn’t related to Bucky and sex with Bucky.

“Y/N.” My name is a low growl elicited from the back of his throat, rumbling all through his broad chest, his firm and bulging muscles rippling as he turns his gaze and body away from the window and sits back down in his desk chair, gesturing for me to take a seat as well. “How are you today?” The questions comes out a little strained and even though is expression is fairly neutral, he’s still so on edge.

Involuntarily you smirk, taking pleasure in the thought of the effect you can have on a man you can never have and who can never have you. “I’m good, professor. Thank you for asking.”

He coughs awkwardly. “Let’s pick up where we left off last time, is that okay?”

“More than okay,” you mimic in an innocent tone, riling him up even more with those big doe eyes you give Bucky whenever you want to make love again. But this time it’s professor Rogers’ that’s on the receiving end of your preferred secret weapon, just not for the same reason. You don’t want him to fuck you. You want him to think about fucking you and then give you good grades because he believes you’ll fuck him when he does.

“So Y/N, I’m going to quiz you just like last time. Ready?”

You nod, fairly certain you’re going to ace his questions again. He goes easy on you, you know that and you don’t mind. Yes, you wished he would make it a little harder on you because the exam isn’t going to be as easy too. But no, you don’t exactly mind because it makes a good impression and you’re currently all about leaving the right impression.

He goes through the pages, skimming the words and searching for the right question to start with. His lips curl upwards into a devilish grin when he finally finds what he’s looking for. Or maybe you should say when he doesn’t find what he isn’t looking for, his baby blues scanning yours with a smugness you haven’t encountered in him before.

“I trust you know by now that I have no intention of failing you on my course.” Steve closes the book and stands up, opting to sit on the corner of his desk instead. You have now a perfect view of his erection and because he doesn’t feel the immediate need to cover it up, you suspect that’s exactly the point. “So I see no point in keeping this up.”

“Y/N,” he drawls out your name syllable by syllable, emphasising your name as if it’s his favourite dessert in the whole wide world. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You purse your lips, unsure of how to react but not willing to give that away. “I think I do.”

“As you are well aware of, I’m painfully hard. I’m not asking you to suck me off. I’m also not asking you to give me your permission to fuck you senseless. I’m not stupid.”

He pauses. He does not do so in hesitation or contemplation, rather to figure out your thoughts on what he’s going to propose next.

“You’re not wearing the most appropriate outfit for our meeting, so I suggest you come back next week wearing your usual blue jeans and sweater. You are excused. I need to will this away,” he concludes, palming himself through his black jeans.

There’s no denying the disappointment that flashes before your eyes, crossing over your face like a speed train and not going unnoticed by your professor.

“Y/N,” he tries again. “I’m not speaking in tongues here. Please leave. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so open about it”, you finally disclose, playing with the hem of your dress. “I wasn’t expecting you to admit you’d like to fuck me.”

“If I’m not open about it, I’m risking a whole lot more than my career or my reputation. I don’t want a lawsuit. Fucking you is not worth it.”

It stings more than you expected, Steve’s rejection. But you’re not one to easily admit your defeat. “I guess that means we’re done here. I’ll see you next week.”

You stand up with the intentions of leaving the room like he had asked you to. Instead, his fingers unexpectedly lace around your elbow to keep you from doing just that. Your back is pulled flush against his chest, much like the dream you had just a few days ago. His breath is hot on your ear, his cock pressing into the small of your back. “We are done, Y/N. You passed the course. Congratulations.” His free hand slides up your thigh and eventually rests on your hip, having hiked up your dress around your middle.

Pinching your ass cheek, his lips trailing small but soft butterfly kisses down your neck, he makes it very clear you’re not leaving until he explicitly states so. “I like you, Y/N, I’m not going to lie. And maybe when you’re done with Barnes and you’re no longer my student, we can have some mind-blowing sex.”

Shivers run up and down your spine as he runs his hand over the smooth skin of your ass, toying with your panties. “So we’re done here,” he breathes against your skin when you fail to respond. “Don’t come to my lectures and certainly don’t come to my office anymore.”

“Thank you, professor Rogers,” you reply frailly.

“I can’t fuck you, Y/N,” Steve whispers before releasing you. “I can’t fuck you,” he repeats, not to you but to himself. You stumble and nearly trip over your own feet but eventually make it to the door, turning the door knob with trembling hands.

You throw one last look over your shoulder before taking your exit. “Maybe fucking you isn’t worth the risk of blowing up my relationship with Bucky,” you finally speak up. “I’m not a monster. I can do that to him.”

“Oh Y/N,” he murmurs under his breath when you close the door behind you. “We’re all little monsters.”

Part 6

@beccaanne814-blog @mellifluous-melodramas @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder  @hardcorehippos @softcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @theoneandonlysaucymo @bovaria @marvel-lucy @marvel-ash @italwaysendsinafightt @the-silver-iris @themcuhasruinedme @fvckingsteverogers @nenyakj @justareader @writing-soldiers @angryschnauzer @sfdce @feelmyroarrrr @erinvanlyssel  @jonsnowisnotdeadthough @4theluvofall  @finhabastos @shadowpriestess6 @abovethesmokestacks @katalina-from-hellbound @emilyinwonderland3 @sallyp-53 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @soymikael @independentgirl @katbird787 @queen-merc @mizzzpink @movingonto-betterthings @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @stevergxrs @thegirlwithnodragontattoo @caplanbuckybarnes @justareader @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @ashann7 @its-not-a-phase-hux @magellan-88

[iwritethat]

Wally West: One

A/N: This was a detour from what I was doing. Oops.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

"M'gann?"

"Yes."

"The cute alien chic?" You thought of the girl, clarifying it was indeed the correct one.

"Yes."

"And you're sure this one is the one because you said that 3 girls ago."

"Yes... I mean no, I don’t know - look can you please help me (Y/n)." Wally playfully pleaded with you like he’d done on multiple occaisions prior to this and you could only shrug in defeat.

"Sure but my conditions remain the same."

"I know, no bragging, pizza on me, you pick the film for the next 3 weeks."

"And?" You mockingly coaxed, knowing how much the next particular demand pained him which was evident in his deadpan but reluctant tone.

"And no mocking your dates."

"Good."

.

The following day you’d stategically accompanied Kid Flash on a visit to Mount Justice, the sight of you two together was no surprise to Robin, Aqualad nor Speedy though the remainder were intrigued by the mysterious stranger so Wally proudly made introductions.

"Hey M'gann, Conner, this is (Y/n)."

"Ah, this is who you love so much to talk about!" The Martian beamed grasping your hands as you shot a glare to a flustered Wally, the guy sheepishly running a hand through his strands.

"Is this your... girlfriend?" Superboy casually inquired after thinking of the correct terminology, yet again leaving you to wonder what your friend has been saying about you in your absence - also considering the implication this’d have on your scheme.

"No! Definitely not! I'm totally single, just because I've told you about (Y/n) doesn't mean we're dating. We're not dating by the way." Wally briskly recovered, blush fading as he emphasised his point specifically for the sake of M'gann.

"Nice to meet you both. Ah Kaldur!" You lit up once seeing the Atlantean, immediately embracing his form just as he did to you in hopes of catching up with him.

"It's been a while (Y/n), you look well."

"(Y/n) is here? Looking as lovely as ever, surprised you're still hanging with Wally though, you're way out of his league." Robin proudly joked as he walked toward you, genuinely happy to see you again and a girl called Artemis agreed with him despite only recently learning your name - supposedly teasing Wally was a commodity amount the Team.

"I'm here for training, Canary said she'd activated the sparring platform so I wanted to test it." With a content shrug you set your plan in motion, gesturing over to the designated area as indication.

Now you were very well trained, the team knew that so it wasn't a surprise when every single member landed with a 'FAIL' until Wally challenged your winning streak. You went two rounds, the first you played to his strengths allowing him to take you down with his speed and received the only 'PASS' of the day. M'gann cheered, flying over with questions and compliments whilst you comfortably sat up and proudly watched Wally bask in the desired attention. Meanwhile got to your feet, brushing yourself only to be met with a smirking Robin beside your figure.

"I know what you're doing and you are good at it, but I don't think it's gonna work."

"Does it ever work with Wally? He's never met a girl he's really caught deep feelings for but I'm only in it for the free food he's promised me." Came your knowing reply, softly smirking at Robin who seemed to disagree but accepted your justification nonetheless.

"There is one y'know..."

"Hey (Y/n) ready to get your ass whooped by the best there is? Fastest kid alive babe." The speedster smugly gained your deadly gaze, his boasting violating the agreement you’d struck less than 24 hours ago and thus not giving you a chance for Robin to elaborate like you’d wished.

This time you would not allow him a victory, like the others you took him out with a mischievous smile and then crouched over his waist whilst he leaned up on his elbows to meet you.

"No. Bragging." You raised a brow, tilting his chin towards you as you punctuated each word as a reminder before heading out. Although your plan had still succeeded to a degree, you walked backwards finding the Martian kneeling down to your friend inquiring about his condition as you winked at him - Wally seemingly impressed with your antics, as he usually was whenever he roped you into these scenarios.

.

You retained your attentive skills, even talking him up to M'gann but it became painfully obvious that her romantic affections were reserved for a certain clone which left you disappointed albeit pleased for her. Now, you had to break the news to Wally - you'd considered such measures while sitting against the wall in one of the Mountains many hallways bouncing a ball off of the other side as a form of contemplation.

Soon enough your felt a familiar comforting presence beside you, catching the ball and initiating a harmless game between the two of you.

"What's on your mind?" Wally knew you incredibly well, narrowing down I even the smallest quirks and he'd use that to his advantage.

"Nothing, but I'm afraid you might have to give up on M'gann."

"I know. Supes right?" He didn't seemed phased by your sympathetic disclosure, which surprised you slightly due to how long he’d spent gushing over the girl.

"Yeah, sorry West."

"It's alright. Thanks for trying, I'll still get you that pizza."

"But I didn't...?" His response was unexpected, leaving you somewhat speechless but he soon continued with conversation before you could finish, no evidence of heartbreak to be seen.

"That Dan guy you went out with? (Y/n) c'mon you're stunning, and he didn't even offer to pay the full check at the coffee shop. You deserve so much better, his flirting game was awful too." Wally reminisced on the details you’d cruelly given knowing he wouldn’t able to comment due to you deal, although such a thing was now void and you’d regretted that decision. Yet part of you enjoyed his mocking support.

"So I get the pizza but have to suffer your judgements for not getting you a date? I'm sure you have something to say about Jackson too." You threw your head back with an exaggerated sigh, Wally laughing as he replied.

"Don't get me started..."

.

How unaffected Wally seemed about the let down still puzzled you, although you believed something else must've attained his focus - not that you had any indication of what it was as you sat flicking through the channels.

"So... there's another girl." There it is.

"Dude, are you kidding me? Give yourself a month at least."

"No this one is the one, I know it." His tone was oddly confident compared to his usual dilemmas regarding that topic which automatically gained your full attention.

"Uh Huh. And when did you meet her? Love at first sight or whatever?"

"I've known her longer than a few days give me some credit here. But it wasn't at first sight, I didn't even notice it was happening or rather happened..." Wally's point was certainly more realistic in comparison and he was being truthful - again, maybe this peculiar circumstance held promise.

"You know my terms an-" You simply shrugged, assuming he wanted your assistance once more which dulled your growing investment slightly.

"No, not for this one."

"Hot damn, this woman must be special. Tell me everything!" That decision shocked you and it was evident in your tone, you excitedly encouraged him to indulge your lowkey interrogation since he never turned down your assistance.

"Yes she definitely is, but I don't know what to do for her y'know?"

"Romantic restaurant? Roses? Tell her over a romantic dinner." You listed things instantly, barely stopping for a breather.

"Would you want all that though?" Wally considered your ideas, furrowing his brows before he asked his question even if his posture radiated nervousness despite the confident facade he’d attempted to convey.

"Hah, no way! Honestly I'd love a chill night in, order a take out, put on a good series and just enjoy each other's company. I mean roses are nice too but I want to know my date likes me enough to relax and be themselves - you can't really do that in a fancy restaurant. Anyway, you should probably find out what this girl likes first." You simply smiled, giving him an honest opinion and advice for you felt he'd finally found someone more than just a crush to him.

"I guess..."

It was silent for a moment until familiar words echoed in your mind 'There is one y'know...' and instantly you stood up with your realisation.

"I know who it is!"

"What?! How?!" Wally snapped to with concern evident in his expression like a deer in headlights, unbeknownst to you why that was but he too halted in his tracks.

"Dick told me, I don't believe it Wally - it's great!" Now you had Artemis in your head, they'd hated one another at first so it certainly made sense that he'd grown to like her. They'd also kissed at New Years Eve or so you'd heard.

"Robin told you I liked you?! Are you kidding? He only knows because I thought he had a crush on you." That answer caught you off guard, practically disintegrating your ability to form a coherent sentence or even think straight due to the abruptness of it.

"Wait me? I didn't, um, I can't, since when? All the times I've been helping you with girls I... I..."

"Wait you didn't know? Okay stay there, I'm doing this again!" Wally held his hands out in defence, soon disappearing leaving you standing alone with your thoughts. A dangerous thing really.

Did you even have feelings for him? Quite possibly, that would explain why you occasionally compared dates to him and why you were always so willing to help him find his happiness but surely you wouldn't have suppressed them? It was so confusing.

Within a minute he appeared before you, a single red rose in hand and sheepish smile.

"I'm late I know that but there's no pressure for you. This is not how I expected you to find out, I aimed to flirt with you and only you before making a move so it wasn't thrown on you so suddenly but here we are. Guess I'm not great with girls without you."

With a mischievous grin, you pulled him close by his red hoodie and gently met his lips with your own and you couldn't deny how right it felt - an action you’d hope would quell the warring emotions. You pulled apart, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours on his shoulders.

"You're actually quite adequate, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Oh you're hilarious." He matched your witty sarcasm, but still you find his happiness intoxicating.

"Can we, um could we take things slow? I know that's ironic to ask the fastest kid alive but please."

"I'd slow down for you, I want to take my time in every moment I get so it won't be a problem (Y/n). I promise." Despite the trace of concern in your voice, Wally was reassuring and sincere with his words so you both felt comfortable in whatever situation you'd crafted.

"So, I assume you won't be mocking my dates anymore."

"I think every date you'll have from now on is gonna be too great for me judge. Ah too bad, I know how much you loved me doing that." The speedster playfully responded with a knowingly satisfied smirk to which you threw him an 'are you serious?' expression.

Later, as you both sat comfortably on Wallys' bed eating pizza whilst a film played in the background, you received simultaneous texts from none other than Dick Grayson - his smugness translated even in a message.

[Dickiebird: Told you so.]

[systemfailuresunshine]

A Long Time Coming... - Elsa Chapter 18

Author: @systemfailuresunshine

Summary: Year-round fluff for a soldier who just needs a hug, starting at Christmas! A chapter for a character I’ve only recenty learned to love...

Word Count: 1834

Warning(s): Swearing

A/N: At the bottom :)

The next morning you woke up first. You left a sleeping Bucky to gain a little more strength for the day by letting him have a lie-in. You tiptoed out of the room, pausing to grab a cardigan from the cupboard to wrap round yourself. It may nearly be June but in your opinion, that didn’t mean that the air conditioning needed to be on. Making your way quickly down to the kitchen, you paused to say good morning to Sam who was sitting on one of the bar stools drinking orange juice.  

“You and Elsa sleep well last night?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Is everyone going to end up using that nickname?” you retorted.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he smirked.

“Bucky,” you emphasised. “and I slept fine, thank you.”

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” he said, putting his glass down and turning to face you.

“Is there something you’d like to ask?” you smiled.  

“No, nothing,” he said.  

You walked over to the fridge to grab yourself a muffin.

“Only,” Sam’s voice caused you to turn round, nearly dropping the muffin back into the fridge.

“I headed past your room last night on my way to bed and poked my head in, only to find you weren’t there.”

There was a teasing tone in his voice, though his face remained blank. Only the slight pull at the side of his mouth let you know he was testing you.

“Why were you checking up on me?”

“Maybe I wanted to take awful pictures that I could use against you,” he paused but the pull at the side of his mouth grew so that he was nearly smiling.

“Or maybe,” he continued. “Steve asked me to check on you to see if you were getting enough sleep. Either way, you weren’t there.”

“I slept in Bucky’s room last night,” you admitted, your cheeks growing red as you remembered the warm feeling of his arm around you, and your back pressed against his front. “Saves me having to travel down a few floors to check on him every couple of hours.”

Sam’s face dropped slightly but he regained composure. The hint of teasing appeared again.

“You worry too much,” he nudged your shoulder.  

“It’s my job,” you shrugged as Bucky wandered into the kitchen.

“What’s your job?” he asked, walking over to kiss you.  

“Worrying,” your tone was light as you set your muffin down and began pouring some water for him.

He grabbed you round the waist as you made to put the water on the counter. The contents slopped but miraculously stayed in the glass. Sam shuffled off the stool and backed out of the door.

“I’m going to the gym,” he said quickly, winking at you before leaving.

You rolled your eyes but became distracted by Bucky spinning you round to face him.

“Someone wasn’t in bed when I woke up,” he smiled, chuckling as you wriggled in his arms.

You placed your arms round his neck and kissed him before answering.

“I wasn’t aware you were expecting me to be. It isn’t my room,” you said.  

He dropped his arms and picked up the glass of water, taking a piece of the muffin as well. You frowned at him but the look of fake innocence in his eyes made you laugh. Grabbing a piece for yourself, you mused out loud.

“FRIDAY, what day is it?”

“It’s Monday, May 29th,” came the answer.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, causing Bucky to put the glass down.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his words.

“It’s Tony’s birthday,” you said, thumping the heel of your hand to your forehead. “And I forgot. I feel awful.”

“I didn’t know,” his voice was soft.

“Not many people do,” you smiled sadly. “He doesn’t like to talk about it. For all the show and pizazz he puts out there, he's quite closed off when it comes to personal things."

"How come you know about it then?”

“I found him a few years ago, sitting in his workshop. He wasn’t focused on anything and he was mumbling about it being another year without them, another year alone. My heart broke just standing there. Somehow I managed to ground him, get him back in the room, but he wouldn’t talk about what had just happened. It was only a few days later he came and told me it was his birthday that day and he felt guilty about still living when his parents were dead,” you trailed off, seeing Bucky’s eyes darken.

“Hey,” you rushed over to him and placed your hands on either side of his face. “Look at me,” you instructed.

Hesitantly, he looked up at you. He was biting his bottom lip and almost as soon as his eyes had connected with yours, he looked away.

“Love, I’m here,” you said softly. “It was a long time ago, James, and it wasn’t your fault.”

His eyes softened and he looked back at you.  

“It’s okay,” you stroked his hair with one hand, while brushing your thumb against his cheek with the other.

“Today is not about the past. Today is about the future. And today, we need to get a birthday present for Tony.”

Bucky leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a few moments before opening them again. He smiled lightly and turned his head to kiss your palm.

“I love you,” he said, as you pulled him close.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “Now let’s go.”

You held out a hand to him and he took it gratefully, snatching the rest of the muffin in his other hand.

A few hours, and much deliberation, later, you returned to the Tower with a present and some wrapping paper in tow. Steve had bumped into you as you entered, surprised by the results of your shopping trip.

“Wrapping paper?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.  

Bucky shuffled slightly and you squeezed his hand.

“Tony,” you replied.

Steve nodded slowly and held out a rolled up piece of paper tied with brown string.

“My contribution,” he said.

“Why don’t you come with us?” you asked. “We’re just heading up to the workshop.”

“Are you sure it’s not gonna be too much?” Steve was hesitant.  

“I do this every year,” you countered. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ll take it slow.”

You found Tony in the workshop with his head in a cupboard: a normal occurrence for a Monday afternoon. You had helpfully stopped in the kitchen to grab some water and an energy bar because he probably hadn’t eaten all day.  

You called out to him as you entered, and heard the familiar crash as something fell down behind him.

“Present,” he said, straightening up and cringing slightly at the crash. “It’ll be fine,” he brushed off. “How may I be of assistance today?”

“Well, despite the fact that you don’t want to acknowledge it, it is in fact your birthday today,” you smiled.

“It may be,” he replied, avoiding your gaze and instead eyeing the energy bar.

“And because you don’t want to acknowledge it, we’re coming to see you in here,” Steve said as Bucky made his way to your side.

You held out the energy bar, which he gratefully took, and put the water on an empty part of workbench. Tony nodded gratefully as he took a bite of the energy bar. He hummed thoughtfully as he took another bite.

“We can leave if you don’t want us here,” Bucky looked down. “I can… I can understand if you don’t.”

Tony swallowed the rest of the energy bar and placed the wrapper next to the glass of water.

“It’s alright, Barnes,” he said softly. “I’m glad...” He stopped and tried again.

“Thanks for being here.”

“We… we got this for you,” Bucky handed Tony the present, carefully wrapped in colourful paper. 

"I’m presuming you didn’t wrap this," Tony smirked, his bravado reappearing. 

"Nope, all them," Bucky replied, squeezing you closer, as he also found his footing.  

Tony tried, and failed, to save the paper by peeling at it so ended up just ripping it. He chuckled, pulling the paper off fully to reveal a self-help book.  

"This your idea?" he asked you. 

You looked down but the edges of your mouth upturned. He crossed the small gap between you and pulled you close, one hand around your neck, the other around your waist.  

"Thank you," he whispered in your ear. 

You rubbed his back with one of your hands and squeezed his middle. 

"We love you, Tony. Don’t forget that."

He pulled back and smiled warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

“I also have something,” Steve held up his paper.

Tony untied the knot of string and uncurled the paper to reveal a charcoal drawing. His face softened before his trademark smirk broke through.

“You know you can’t just do this every time you want to get out of buying someone a present.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can try,” he laughed. “I could also do this as well, but I might just have to reserve it for you.”

Tony’s face screwed up in confusion as Steve made his way closer to him. He pressed his lips to Tony’s cheek, causing a blush to creep up both of their faces.

“All that flirting in missions and you finally do something about it.”

Tony’s sarcasm defence mechanism came through quickly.  

“I was starting to think you weren’t paying attention.”

Steve draped his arm round Tony’s waist and he smiled at you. You beamed at him and then remembered what you were about to say. 

"I know you don’t want a fuss made of you,” you said, as Tony glanced up at Steve in almost disbelief. “When it’s anyone else, you bring out the confetti, but when it’s personal, you clam up. So we’re not going to make a thing out of it, but we are going to say ‘happy birthday’, order some Chinese, and have a nice time. Sound okay?" 

He ruffled your hair, and you grumbled. 

"Have I told you lately how great you are?" 

"Not recently, no." 

You stuck your tongue out of the corner of your mouth and he kissed your cheek.

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

A/N: 1288 hits on AO3! Thank you :) (I forgot about the queue function so this is me from Sunday night speaking). So this is a chapter I never thought I'd write because up until I started writing Elsa, I didn't always see eye to eye with Tony. But after everything I've seen him go through, and all that I've written about him, I think we've come to some kind of understanding. I wanted both him and Steve to be happy and I don’t think they’d mind too much if they ended up together so Stony exists! And this is just the beginning!

I am on holiday now! Steve’s birthday chapter has been written and will be uploaded in due course (tomorrow) on AO3. This chapter is especially for my best friend @itscooltobefanficy because she is wonderful and Tony is her fave. There are 11 chapters of her story Feeling Alive up on her Tumblr and they are all great! Also, check out her masterlist for more treats!

Thank you all, as always. Please like, reblog, share, etc if you liked and have a good week everyone x

Taglist: @buckyywiththegoodhair, @buckys-shield, @justkeeplaughing-nevergiveup, @itscooltobehappy, @the-renaissance

If anyone else wants to be added (or removed), just message me on here (@systemfailuresunshine) or on @story-prompt-lyrics!