#hmm is this considered prompt 11 too?

[earlysunshines]

i fall in love too easily

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader.n (pt.2)

summary: your niece has access to too many romance movies and sana thinks she's in love with someones mother.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of food

pt. 1, pt. 3, pt. 4

a/n: hi! I hope you all enjoy this! I'll try to update this little series as fast as I can! I have been a bit busy, but I'll try my best. I have some ideas for it, lot's of fluff, lots of wlw pining-ish idk.

anyways, enjoy!

(again, this whole thing is inspired by @soliarus, their take on the prompt is adorable, go check it out!!)

-

You check the watch on your left wrist, it reads 3:11 pm, meaning Hana would be out in 4 minutes.

You had just got off your 7 hour shift and were worried that you’d be late to pick up your niece, luckily, the school was only a seven-minute drive away. 

You fiddled with the collar of the white button-up shirt that you still had on from working, and you wonder to yourself whether anyone would care how dressed up you were, at least, compared to the casually dressed parents, grandparents, and guardians around you. You anxiously waited for the moment when the bell would ring, and you waited for when the kids would be spilling out the entrance doors to reunite with their parents.

You checked your watch again and it hit 3:15 pm, and a loud ring of the bell was heard.

It was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. You scanned the area for a bit, and thankfully you were tall enough to see over some of the parents’ heads, so that you could see your little niece standing with a group of kids, 

You also saw her teacher.

You made your way over to the area where Hana was, and Hana seemed to notice you first because she was already running toward you with her arms out. You wonder how the hell a four year old could make you lose your balance, and you might have to consider her signing up for football due to the way she almost made you fall as she came into contact with your lower body from the hug,

“Y/n!” She grinned, and you kneeled to match her level and give her a proper hug, “I missed you y/n!”

“I missed you too sweetheart, you seem happy.” You say, and you brush some of her hair out of her face,

“Ms. Minatozaki is so nice and sweet, she let us paint and she gave me more stickers for being good! They're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile,

“Is that so?”

“Yes! Does this mean we can go to the cafe? Please? I was good I promise.” Hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve. You hum as you think to yourself,

“Hmm, we’ll have to ask Ms. Minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” You respond, and you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your nieces' teacher again.

You glance over to where Sana is, smiling and waving to a set of parents and their kid. Her eyes light up with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks slowly turning a shade of pink, though, you don't notice.

Sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to the beautiful young teacher.

“Y/n! It’s lovely to see you again.” Sana greets you, and you feel that warmth in your chest again, your heart skipping a beat.

She still looks as beautiful as she had in the morning, maybe even prettier. That voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy, and her face lights up the same way.

“It’s great to see you again too.” You say, and you subconsciously fix your shirt and dress pants to look more presentable. A smile finds its way to your lips, and Sana’s too. There’s a small moment of silence as you gaze at each other, and you feel that warmth in your ears again, and this time it’s slowly spreading to your cheeks.

You clear your throat and tug at your collar, “How was Hana today?” You say, breaking the slight tension in the air. 

Hana looks at her teacher with puppy eyes as she hopes to get a good answer, and Sana giggles to herself softly,

“She was very good today, she was really helpful too,” Sana says, Hana lets out a big sigh of relief.

“Is that so?” You question, and Sana hums in response,

“She helped me put the paintbrushes back, she’s a sweet girl,” Sana explains, and Hana tugs at your hand,

“I told you! I told you I was good, so can we go to the cafe? Please?” Hana pleads, and you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.

“I guess we should get going then…” You begin, your gaze tearing away from Sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you, “Why don’t you say bye to your teacher, Hana?” 

Hana nods and you watch as Sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, patting her head and ruffling it a little before Hana hugs the teacher, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, I wish that were me. 

You steal another glance at the young teacher before Hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away. The last look you and Sana share has a sense of longing and an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, and you finally wave to her with a smile, and she gives you that adorable grin back to you and your niece.

-

“Alright, let’s get going.” You say before taking off Hana’s small school bag and putting it in the front seat, then lifting her up to put her in the carseat in the backseat of your dark green Mercedes. You close the door and make your way to the front seat to start the engine, 

“Buckle up!” the little girl exclaims from the back seat, and you laugh, 

“Of course, I wouldn’t forget the most important step.” You respond with enthusiasm.

You click shuffle on the playlist that you and Hana had made months ago, and a jazz favorite of yours starts playing. You turn down the volume so it turns into a faint melody in the background as you drive, and Hana starts to hum along.

You park near the cafe in your usual spot and grab Hana’s bag from the passenger seat, then open the door for Hana to jump out. The little girl’s smile widens immediately as she spots the exterior of the cafe, and rushes over to the entrance, and you have to run after her.

“Hana wait! Be careful!” You call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys in your hand to lock your car, all whilst running after the excited five-year-old.

You two enter the cafe and are immediately met with the familiar and inviting atmosphere. The air is filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the scent of espresso shots being pulled, and you can hear the gentle chatter and laughs being shared in the cozy cafe.

There are a few people present in the cafe, though it’s not too busy at the moment. You spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their americanos and lattes. The dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above and is occupied by a trio of high school students laughing, and they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake. 

You scan the area and your look shifts over to where the familiar baker and barista are. The baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave,

“Ah, Y/n! You’re back, did you miss me that much?” Dahyun jokes, “Oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” She adds, redirecting her gaze to meet Hana. Hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter,

“Ms. Dahyun! I had my first day of school today! My teacher says I was good!” Hana boasts, and Dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit,

“Wow, I’m impressed. Hmm… maybe I should give you the special treat I prepared then.”

“Please please please please please please-”

“Alright, alright. A special treat for my favorite customer coming up!” Dahyun says cheerfully. The shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift Hana onto the chair thats pushed under the marble surface.

You make your way to where the taller barista works, and he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot. He furrows his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter,

“Chaemin,”

He jumps a little and you laugh,

“My god, don’t do that.”

“My fault, can I use the steamer real quick? I need to make something for my niece.”

“You’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” Chaemin says in surprise, he turns his body to you fully and raises his brows and looks down at you in disbelief,

“Of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. I’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”

“I see, okay.” He says, bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds, “By the way, where’s Johnny? I thought he would be the one taking Hana to school, you know, since he's her dad and all.”

“He had this last-minute business trip. He complained about it a lot, but he’ll be back in two days.”

You and Chaemin exchange a few more words, creating some small talk whilst you make the hot chocolate, and Dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant that has a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate. 

“I made it just for you, I even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much,” Dahyun says, pushing the plate toward the girl.

“Ms. Dahyun you’re the best! It looks really yummy! Thank you thank you thank you!” She says excitedly, and Dahyun pats her shoulder, 

“Anything for the young scholar.”

“You never make me anything like that.” You mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate,

“You’re not a scholar; in fact, you lack a lot up there.” she jokes, pointing to your head.

“Ouch.” You respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the latte art and giving it to Hana from across the counter. Hana smiles and looks at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in, you pause her,

“Phone eats first.” You say, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat, she groans in response before Dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up.

You sit beside Hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. Dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough for whatever pastry she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, talking with your brother and mom.

“These are so good, thank you Aunt Y/n,” Hana says with a mouth full of the pastry,

“You should thank Dahyun, but I’m glad you like them. Also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” You scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano Chaemin had made you. Hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.

“Aunt y/n, can I ask you something?” Hana mumbles after gulping down the bite she had taken,

You raise an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Do you… Do you like my teacher?”

“Of course, she’s sweet and takes good care of you, I’m fond of her.” You answer before taking another sip of your coffee,

“No, do you like like her? Like in the movies?” And Hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee,

“W-what? Why- where did this come from?” You question, sitting straight up. Chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you,

“You like your nieces' teacher?” He says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. You look at your co-worker and then back to your niece,

“N-no, it’s not like that,” You start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed (Chaemin and the little girl aren’t fooled), “She’s just nice, we’re just friendly. She’s your teacher, of course I’m going to be friendly with her.”

“Ok, then why did you look at her like that? You looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”

“Oh? What is this I’m hearing?” Dahyun interjects, and you shoot her a glare before looking back at your niece,

“I- no, It’s not like that! We just met Hana, don’t be ridiculous.” You say defensively, and Hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.

“Your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”

“What movies are you watching? You’re like, five! Shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? Like something with mermaids or superheros or something?” You say, and now you’re getting more defensive as Dahyun and Chaemin team up with Hana to poke at you.

You roll your eyes at them, but there’s a small smile that tugs at your lips as you think of Sana.

You do not believe in love at first sight, that’s something out of a Disney movie and love is much more complex than that; however, you cannot deny that the woman that will be teaching your daughter every day is one of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen. You think about her stupidly cute smile and contagious laugh, the way her nose scrunches when she would do both, and the way she held your hand when you greeted her. Her soft, unique, and beautiful features sit in your head for a bit, even as you're being teased and poked at.

You think to yourself a bit more and you won’t admit it, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide the more you saw her.

“Look, I just think she’s a nice person okay,” You say, and you begin(or at least try) to change the topic, “Anyways… how was your first day of school? What else did you do?”

Dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by going back to what she was doing, and she also gives Chaemin a cheeky look. You ignore their stupid little exchanged looks and give all of your attention to the little girl,

“You were right Y/n, I made a friend! Her name is Jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” and Hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s a space in between that you would assume is an inch, “Also,” Hana begins, “Ms. Minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. She smiled and laughed a lot, she has such a nice smile! She smiles like a princess," Hana adds, and you really agree with that statement. Hana thinks to herself a bit, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! I like her a lot.” She states.

You grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for Chaemin to take, “I’m really glad you made a friend, I told you my genes were passed on to you!” You mess with her hair, “And I’m glad you like Ms. Minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”

“And pretty teachers too, right?” She teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more,

“Alright smarty pants, Finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” You sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before going over to where Chaemin is behind the counter to wash Hana’s dish. 

-

“How was work?” Jihyo says as she backs up her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. Sana has always taken the bus or gotten a ride from her friend, she doesn’t drive, it’s always been like that. This year Sana is lucky as she’ll most likely be getting regular rides back home from not only her best friend but also the mother of one of her students (and one of the drivers of the century). 

Sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat, “It was really good, the students this year are great. Your daughter did great too.” Sana starts. Jihyo smiles and looks at her daughter from the internal rearview mirror, 

“I’m glad Jiyeong was good,” Jihyo starts, “Jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?” 

“Ms. Minatozaki is nice, and I made a new friend.” The little girl in the backseat responds, “Her name is Hana, she’s cool and nice, I like her a lot. We promised to be best friends this year!” 

Sana tenses up at the mention of Hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother. Sana starts to zone out whilst Jihyo talks with her daughter, and she thinks about the young-looking mother she had met. She replays the memory of shaking the woman’s hand and thinks about her cheery grin, as well as her caring nature. She daydreams of the look the woman had given her this morning, and the friendly greetings they exchanged had remained in her mind for a bit of the car ride back.

Her heart sinks a little at the thought of you being her student's mother, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? (but none that were as cute as you.)

“Alright, we’re here. Jiyeong, say bye to your teacher.” Jihyo says, putting the car in park at the front of the apartment complex. Sana smiles at Jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door and waving at Jihyo and her daughter through the window,

“Thank you Ms. Minatozaki! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye Jiyeong, I hope you have a good night. You too, Jihyo, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night Sha.”

Jihyo waves again before rolling the passenger seat window up again and driving away, Sana turns and walks into the building.

The young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door, takes off her shoes, and finds herself wandering over to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. 

She leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup of tea in her hand.

“I really have to talk to Jihyo about this.” She mumbles, taking out her phone and clicking on the woman’s contact. She lets out a small sigh thinking about how the hell she’ll survive the year while having to see your pretty face so often, and having to interact with someone so charming.

The phone rings for a bit before it’s answered by the woman that had dropped Sana off at her home, and the woman sounds like she’s opening the door to her house.

"Sana? Hello? What is it? Everything okay?”

"Jihyo,"

"Yes?"

“On a scale of one 1-10, how bad is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

the boy is mine (H's Version)

hi, no long no see in this fandom. but @carolmunson put out a call for writers and I wanted to dive in! see her prompt: here.

It's a romantic night in and that means that sometimes a lot of feelings come out.

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: This is a lot of fluff, but some minor heated moments. Post S4, cannon divergent.

______________

The day was boiling--no breeze to cut through the stiff air. But now, as the evening settles, the curtains from the open windows billow just a little. The air is a whisper on the back of your neck as you bring your knees up to your chest. The notebook slips down just a little on your thighs, but you push it back up to get the right angle. Eddie will undoubtedly have a snide remark about your position, but you know the moment he settles back down on the couch, he too will be curled up. Most likely around you, and you’re praying the night gets just a little bit cooler to withstand the walking furnace that is Eddie. 

“Fuck me,” Eddie groans. 

You look up from the work you’ve been doing in coloring in the drawing Eddie sketched out earlier in the day to find Eddie frantically swinging open cabinet doors. He opens another door, without closing the other. Disaster flashes before your eyes. Stitches, a bloody puddle on the floor, should Eddie not be careful and--

Thunk! “Son of a bitch!” Eddie howls, holding the back of his head. In all his hurry, he popped up from the cabinets at the bottom only to smack his head on the corner of one of the open cabinet doors. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” you call out with a giggle. 

“Looks like 16,” Eddie calls out, eyes narrowed in a squint. There’s only four fingers up. 

“Hmm, I think you’re fine,” you laugh but push up off the couch. There’s the slight shuffle, the almost silent peel of feet off the tiled over kitchen floor. Part of it due to the whatever waxy cleaner you’ve convinced Wayne to use. “Let me see,” you command gently after your approach.

“Careful now, I’m fragile,” Eddie pouts but pulls hand away from the spot. 

“Gonna need a flashlight to get through this thicket,” you tease but gingerly touch at his scalp. There’s nothing damp so you don’t think there’s blood. Eddie tenses under your touch. “Sorry,” you whisper. It doesn’t stop the assessment, but you are more mindful of the pressure you’re using. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie returns his voice soft like yours. 

“What are you even looking for?” So far, you don’t think he broke skin. One good thing, but you are a little worried about something deeper too. 

“A cup. I could’ve sworn I did dishes,” Eddie huffs. “I’m running out of, like nice cups.” You watch Eddie point to the plastic cup on the counter--ones that you’re pretty sure were holding some sort of soda from a gas station in their first life. “Those are the only ones left.”

“Honey,” you coo, urging Eddie to turn around. He doesn't budge, but you press into his back, right above his hip and he turns then. “Those cups are fine.”

“No they’re not,” he sighs. 

“And what makes them not okay, huh?”

“You deserve your Coke in a chalice. Not the 7-11 trash.”

“Perhaps I consider 7-11 cups a chalice,” you return, pressing Eddie’s cheeks together. His lips bubble at the force and you plant a kiss on them. He tastes vaguely like vanilla. The frosting off the cupcakes you two shared earlier still paints his lips sweet even though it’s been a couple hours since they’ve been consumed. 

“You know you don’t and so do I,” Eddie whispers against your lips. His hands find your hips. 

“Hmm, I think I could be convinced.”

“You sure they’re okay?”

“Cups won’t ruin the night, I promise.” 

You don’t need anything fancy. You never have. But you get it. You know Eddie’s always going to want to give you the best. The thing you just wish you could convince himself off is that it’s his best that matters. Whatever Eddie gives you is the best because it’s him--it’s him giving it to you. But you don’t think the words will penetrate. Eddie’s hard headed in his own way, stubborn to his core when he wants to be so you hope that actions do speak louder than words. 

You seal your lips around his again and hum into the kiss when Eddie tugs you in closer. He’d promised a night in--dinner, movies, laughs, anything and everything as long as it was just the two of you. And he’d delivered thus far. Pizza had been called and delivered promptly. When you asked if he had any more Cokes from the case you brought over a week ago, he proudly declared he’d left the last two just for you. Your requests for a cup is what started this, but cups don’t mean a thing when all you’re thinking about is how the scent of Eddie presses against your nostrils and into your lungs like heaven. 

You’ve missed him--missed this. Your new job took more time than your old one. Not a bad thing considering that it was only an extra hour, but it meant having a new routine. It meant one hour less in your day for you to get through the slog of laundry, and dishes, and bills, and errands so that you could sit like a schoolgirl on the phone, twirling your fingers around the cord to talk to Eddie on the phone when you couldn’t visit him. Weekends now are more sacred than ever and you cherish the thought of being able to spend quality time with your boy. 

Eddie’s fingers press through the cotton of your shorts. He tugs you closer, and closer, and closer to his body. He’s warm--as always. But beyond that, beyond the wild curls that always call out to your fingers to be tugged on, or just caressed, Eddie is real beneath your fingers. Through the cotton of his t-shirt, you know what lies beneath. But you are grateful that the t-shirt is still warm. Arousal settles into your stomach, tightening your muscles as Eddie drags his fingers up your spine. But you pull back, the wet echoing smack of a broken kiss hanging between two of you as you both pant. 

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem,” you laugh as Eddie’s teasing touch moves further and further south on your body. 

“Maybe I’m looking for a problem,” he teases. 

“I am looking for a cup to put my Coke in to have pizza with my boyfriend while we watch movies we’ve seen a billion times. Because you are trouble.”

“You started it,” Eddie squawks indignantly. “You kissed first!”

His hand doesn’t stop traveling. He’s cupping you over the shorts and the ache hits you--bone deep but you don’t falter in your resolve. “Pizza. Movie.” It’s all you say before peeling yourself from Eddie’s hold. “Bring the chalices please,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk back to the couch. 

Eddie snorts but you hear his shuffled steps behind you and you know he is following. The lid to the pizza box is flipped back and the melted cheese greets you with a hefty waft. You grab a slice, the cheese pulling slowly away from its neighboring pieces. Eddie grabs a napkin and holds it just under the slice which you can only assume is threatening to drip grease onto the carpet or your lap. 

“Three good things,” Eddie commands as he reaches for his own slice, asking for the details of three good things that happened in your day. 

You hum around your bite, the pizza still hot just a little as you recount the day. “I’m no longer on the probationary period at work as of yesterday which is great. No one’s breathing down my back anymore. I finally got those jeans hemmed. And I get to enjoy pizza with my boyfriend. Three things--your turn.”

“I got the interview for the record shop,” Eddie starts. “I actually finished a drawing, speaking of which, I swear if you get grease on it,” he laughs pulling the notebook from your lap and tossing it floor away from the coffee table. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you rush out. “I’m still working on coloring it though. Forgot.”

“No harm, no foul. And lastly, I, too, am getting to enjoy pizza with my lovely partner, who did not do such a great job at making sure I wasn’t concussed.”

“I’m newly licensed to sell insurance. I am not licensed to make sure you’re not a walking threat to your own safety.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek--wet and greasy, but you don’t shy away from it. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Oh, I know,” you laugh, turning to look at Eddie. His gaze is soft, big eyes dripping with sincerity. You think you can feel the adoration radiating off him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I love you, you know.”

Your first inclination is to shove it off with a joke. But you can imagine how well that would go--not well at all. “You’re going to make me blush,” you huff, ducking your head. 

“Aw, no, don’t be like that. Let me see it. Let me see you blush,” Eddie laughs, reaching out to bring your head up by a gentle tug on your chin. 

Your face is hot; you can feel it warming the longer Eddie takes you in. His gaze is intense, eyes taking in everything from hairline to chin. You watch the flick of his gaze, as he stares down at your nose, back up to your eyes. His smile is soft and sweet, like the stroke of his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“I’m going to make you proud,” Eddie whispers unlike his normal bravado. Where you know Eddie carries himself with the mask, the loud and brash man unafraid, the quietest remarks are the ones that usually send you into a flatline. 

“You should make yourself proud,” you correct. You’d be a flimsy goal--something akin to trash billowing in a strong wind. It could change all in an instant.

“Making you proud makes me proud.”

“I’m already proud of you.” 

It’s Eddie’s turn to duck, hair falling into a wavy curtain around his face. You discard your crust--which you’re more than likely never going to fish--to a corner of the box and find Eddie’s face behind his hair. “No, you can’t hide either.” Your thumb strokes along his jaw and his eyes flutter close. “Tell me,” you return softly but it’s clear you want an answer, “Do you like that? Being told you’re making someone proud?”

“And you’re telling me you don’t?” Eddie scoffs. 

“Oh, no, I do. But I just want to hear you say it.”

“I like being told I’m making someone proud.” The sentence wavers at first, like Eddie might not be sure he can even get the words out. But the end is strong. Like the mere utterance is enough to solidify the truth within. 

“I’ll make sure I tell you more often then, okay?”

“Okay.”

His gaze drifts down and you know what he’s asking for, so you press in, lips sealing his again. A kiss soft enough that even you think twice if it’s real or not. Eddie hums this time, when you pull away, his head pressing into your shoulder. You can feel the smile on his face as his lips brush over your bicep. 

“Your slices are going to get cold,” you tease when Eddie stays buried in your shoulder for another minute. The third slice you’d been reaching for will go cold too, but that matters much less. 

“Let it,” he hums, burrowing now in your armpit. 

You grab the TV remote before you reach behind yourself to make sure the throw pillow is in place against the arm of the couch for an added layer of cushion. Once you’re sure that it’s in the position you want it, you recline back and open your arms for Eddie to crawl into. He wastes not a second to settle his head onto your chest. 

“Good thing we’ve got microwaves now, right?” you tease, pressing play for the VHS.

[soelstress]

A Shot Of You

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female!reader

Summary: Your new work uniform attracts unwanted attention from a stranger...

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , explicit sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , sex in an alley , some language , a little violence (not towards the reader)

A/N 1 - This is one of two submissions for @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest. Thank you for doing this challenge, it's been fun playing around with the prompts.

A/N 2 - Prompts - Asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... of course I was given five so two stories it is 🙈 11) quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials 15) jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar 19) getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit

A/N 3 - the “Angel Shot” is a reference to a scheme in the UK known as Ask For Angela. Please check it out and remember to be safe out there lovelies!

A/N 4 - This is my first post on Tumblr. Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

“Hey, what’s taking so long?”

You smothered a laugh at your boyfriend’s petulant whine. “Be patient, Lloyd!” When he grumbled you couldn’t help giggling. Patience was not a word to describe Lloyd Hansen… except when it came to you. Hired by the CIA as an independent agent, Lloyd was previously a loose cannon with physical tendencies and a short temper. His former handler had once said they preferred him effective instead of stable… which spoke volumes considering they knew how effective he could be. Since becoming involved with you, he had become less impulsive and aggressive. But something that never changed was the fact that Lloyd was fiercely protective… and very egotistical.

Shaking your head, you checked your appearance one last time before leaving the bathroom leaning on the doorframe of your adjoining bedroom to see Lloyd flopped on the bed. He was wearing a black shirt with white pants. His boots rested on the bedsheets, a habit of his that annoyed you. Clearing your throat, you stepped further into the room.

Lloyd heaved a great sigh before starting to sit up. “Seriously, I don’t get what’s so special about - “ his jaw dropped, blue eyes raking hungrily over the new work uniform you were required to wear. The black bodice pushed your breasts a little bit higher than normal, and the short skirt rode half way up your thighs so Lloyd knew you’d be flashing more than a smile if you bent too far forward. He wasn’t thrilled about the modifications to your uniform knowing others would be able to look at you. But the bar you worked at had regular patrons who knew to behave under promise of being barred. Plus the men on security were effective at stopping any unwanted advances. Not as effective as he was though…

Lloyd was so deep in his musings that he didn’t see you tilt your head, puzzled at the lack of reaction. “Lloyd?” When he focused on you again, you smiled shyly. “What do you think?”

Lazily, Lloyd slowly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He carelessly twirled his finger and you span carefully in an effort not to trip. “Well barkeep, what do you got for a man to quench his thirst around here?”

“What are you in the mood for?” You batted back coyly. 

A smirk graced his lips, eyes twinkling in mischief. You moved forward between his legs and he caught you by the hips. “Hmm… You look fucking delicious… maybe a shot of you?” 

You watched wide eyed as his hands ghosted under your skirt, one holding the material up and the other moving close to your clothed centre. “And how do you want that?” Gasping, you gripped his forearms for balance.

“Straight up”. Licking his lips, Lloyd slipped off the edge of the bed and onto his knees.

Groaning, your hands fisted in his dark hair and tugged gently. “Lloyd… you can’t… I gotta get to work”. Your own words sounded empty to you, you loved the feeling of his mouth on you. 

Wet heat suddenly washed over the thin lace of your underwear. Lloyd hummed in approval at your taste, the feeling causing you to grind against his mouth. His hands dragged the scrap of material down enough so he could easily access your core. Teasing, he blew gently and licked through your wet folds. A loud moan escaped your mouth at the feel of his moustache brushing over your clit. “Just a little taste, my sweet Moonshine”. Hearing your nickname you melted in his touch and surrendered yourself to the pleasure.

A few hours later and you were almost done with your shift. Though part of your brain was focused on making drinks, the majority was focused on what awaited you at home. Lloyd tried to convince you with two orgasms using his mouth and tongue to stay home with him so he could enjoy your new uniform in private. Honestly you’d had to bite your lip when he pouted. Lloyd could be stubborn and childish, and very used to getting his way. Instead, you’d offered to change into your ‘fuck-me’ heels once home and let them work their magic. Though he still grumped, he surrendered on the condition he’d drive you to work and pick you up. 

You noticed a few regulars remained, nursing their drinks and talking quietly. They were on their best behaviour with you after having been taught a lesson by Lloyd. Most of your regulars had either seen his possessiveness firsthand while an unfortunate few experienced it firsthand. When an unfamiliar customer sat in front of you at the bar, you smiled in greeting and placed a napkin on the counter. “Evening, what’ll it be?”

“A Bud, a shot of you and your phone number”. The man grinned smugly, obviously pleased with himself and his delivery. It took all of your restraint to not roll your eyes, you just grabbed a bottle and placed it on the bar before requesting payment. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lloyd enter the bar. He winked at you and a big smile lit up your face, dimming slightly at a scoff from the new customer. He preened when your gaze returned to him. “Think you dropped something there gorgeous”. Glancing around in confusion, you cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your standards. Why don’t cha bend over and show me how low they go?”

God, did these lines actually work? Shaking your head, you signalled to another bartender that you were stepping away. You slipped out from behind the bar, only to find your personal space incredibly crowded by an entirely unwelcome presence. 

“If you want the best fuck of your life, come with me…” His dark gaze raked over your body, leaving your skin crawling.

“I already have plans for that”. Darting around him, you moved towards the staff room next to the rear exit and took a few moments to gather your thoughts. You didn’t have long left to work, but you’d definitely mention the pesky patron to security before leaving. As you inhaled to calm your racing heart, you failed to notice a set of footsteps that seemed to linger outside, followed by another set. Exhaling sharply, you stepped outside the staff room. Over the soft chatter of the patrons and the music from the overhead system, you could hear something else. You moved closer to the rear exit, ears straining. Cries of pain? Maybe another animal got caught in the vermin traps dotted around the property. 

You opened the door to the alley behind the bar and froze at the sight before you. Lloyd was standing with his back to you, the creepy customer pinned to the wall of the next building with one hand. Lloyd’s free hand held something silver. “Boring” Lloyd sighed, sounding almost disappointed. He slowly pressed the silver object into the man’s shoulder who cried out in pain. “One last time, Pumpkin. What were you doing near the staff room?” You gulped softly. Lloyd only use ‘cutesy’ nicknames on those that annoyed him. 

“Argh… looking f-for the…. Bathroom!” The last word was nearly squeaked in pain.

“Tsk. Even a blind man could see the neon sign for the can… which is near the entrance. That shit ain’t gonna fly”. Lloyd shook his head. “You were trying to score with the bartender”.

“That little slut inside? She was begging for it!” His words were cut off by his shout of pain. Silently, Lloyd pocketed his knife and now held the man’s family jewels in a vice grip. The menace made a noise that almost sounded like a high pitched squeak. Lloyd cocked his head before twisting his wrist. Cries of pain echoed in the night air, making your heart clench. Carefully you moved so you’d approach Lloyds side rather than his back. You were within an arms length and started to reach for his shoulder when a punishing grip caught your wrist. 

You looked up and Lloyds furious gaze captivated you, his blue eyes dark and burning with anger. A touch of apprehension sparked within you. The man before you with this look was not your crass and childish lover, this was the psychopathic weapon of destruction. You thought of Lloyds temper, having seen a few instances where he had lashed out at men who thought it ok to be bolder in their flirting or try to grab you as you served them. Lloyds self control then evaporated before an angry haze would envelope him, but he had never hurt you. 

“Lloyd? It’s me. Please look at me Lloyd”. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes, so deep in the depths of his haze he didn’t know who you were. Your mind raced, thinking of Lloyd’s reactions after dealing with other unwanted advances. “Hey… Hot Lips”. His brow furrowed slightly, just enough to indicate he heard you. “Come back to me. I need your kisses Hot Lips”. Any embarrassment you may have felt over your words vanished when his blue eyes began to soften, glacier becoming ocean. Whining, the goon slumped to the floor when released but you and Lloyd never stopped watching each other and still he held your wrist.

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Behind you came the voice of Tommy, head of security for the bar. There was a pause before footsteps slowly walked forward. “You ok sweet cheeks? Hansen oughta give the rest of us a chance to be the knights for a change, maybe get a kiss from a pretty gal”. Tommy was a shameless flirt with good intentions, only ever using his lines to make women laugh or feel good about themselves. He was also aware of the unwanted advances you’d received and Lloyd’s subsequent antics.

Swallowing, you stood still and kept your eyes on Lloyd. “Lloyd was just giving a lesson about understanding what the word ‘no’ means”.

“Seems the lesson sunk in. I’m sure I can give him a recap”. You felt Tommy stop a few feet away. “Maybe I can get you an Angel shot when you’re finished with your shift, sweet cheeks? I know I missed the chance before”. 

You knew Tommy was really asking if everything was under control with Lloyd by asking about the Angel shot while apologising that he had not been around the last time something had happened with another patron. Though you were more than grateful for Tommys offered assistance, Lloyd was no threat to you and him being arrested certainly wasn’t in your plans. “Not this time Tommy, I’m not in the mood tonight”.

“I appreciate your offer to help, Tommy”. Lloyds drawl had you sighing in relief. “But I’d never hurt my Moonshine. So why don’t you give Sunshine here the short version of what I said while we have a talk?” Lloyd’s grip never wavered as Tommy pulled the guy off the ground and led him away. 

“Why’d you stop me? He had it coming” Lloyd pouted.

“He wasn’t worth it - you getting in trouble or beating him to a pulp”.

“He was hassling you, Moonshine. And you’re worth any trouble”. Lloyd tugged on your wrist to bring you against him, the hand holding your wrist moving to your back while the other moved to brush your cheek. “I heard him say that shit about bending you over… and about giving you the best fuck of your life”. Lloyds drawl had changed to a quiet rasp… the same rasp he used when he wanted to fuck you senseless, show his possessive side. You knew that the violence displayed tonight was nothing compared to Lloyd’s prior tactics used during his CIA days but the severity had caught you off guard. But what surprised you more was the fact you were turned on. A part of you loved him coming to your defence, something chivalrous yet primal about it made you melt. Seeing his eyes burn with jealousy, hearing his commanding rasp… you were caught up in his haze.

 His hand slid down your back over the curve of your butt and squeezed. You gasped in surprise. “When he first said it, I wasn’t gonna let him see. I could’ve shot his dick off for saying that to you. But when I had him by the balls…” Lloyd chuckled darkly. “I wanted to show him who the best fuck of your life is. That nobody can do what I do”. Suddenly you found yourself pinned to the wall of the bar by six feet of pure male. “Lemme hear you say it”.

“You’re the best fuck of my life, Lloyd. Nobody can do what you can”. The brick was rough against your back but you ignored the feeling when consumed by Lloyd’s lips. You could taste the sweet candies he loved. It contrasted to the violence fuelling him. As he nipped at your neck, your hands reached into his hair and steered him back to your lips. He groaned and you sucked his tongue fiercely before biting his lip. 

Cursing, Lloyd pulled away and spun you to face the wall. “Put your hands on the wall and push away”. As you moved, you could hear the sound of his zipper opening and a sound of material moving before his body caged yours. One hand moved the soaked crotch of your underwear aside as the other guided his leaking tip to your entrance. With one swift thrust he filled you. His hand covered your mouth before you could cry out. “Much as I’d love to prove a point to that asshole, I don’t wanna have to teach a lesson to Tommy or any others tonight. Keep quiet for me now and you’ll be screaming later on”. He began to move at a rapid pace. From the feel of his pants against your ass, he’d only pushed them down far enough to free his cock. His impatience thrilled you, spurred you to meet his thrusts. He shifted his position slightly, his thick hard cock rubbing at that sweet spot deep inside you. “So hot and wet… nobody can fuck you like I can. Nobody knows you like me… and nobody ever will”. The snarl became a whimper as you clenched hard around him. 

“Fuck! Not gonna last much longer if you squeeze me like that, you’re gonna make me cum”. 

“Please Lloyd. Fuck me. Cum for me” you begged, voice muffled by his hand.

Lloyds thrusts quickened as he brought you back against him, your head against his shoulder. The band in your belly tightened, tingles beginning to race through your body. You whimpered as you felt his cock jerk, filling you with his hot seed. Lloyd bit your neck to quiet his own release. The last bite of pain triggered your orgasm. Your legs wobbled as the pleasure crashed over you but Lloyd held you tight, groaning as your core trembled around him. He moved his hand from your mouth to your chin and turned your face before kissing you and carefully pulling out.

Panting, you watched as he tucked himself back into his pants looking far too pleased with himself. Cocky little shit. You shook your head in bemusement. “Guess I didn’t need my fuck-me heels after all” you teased.

“You never need those fuck-me heels” he smirked. “But I’d like you to wear them as I give you the fuck of your life. All night. Every night”. He steps close to you, eyes soft with love. “For the rest of your life”.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 11 - Prompt: Cauldron @jegulus-microfic

December Daily Series - 499 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

Regulus tapped the window lightly to get his brother’s attention. “Is he alright?”

Sirius leaned up onto his knees from his bed and lifted his chin. A frown knitted his eyebrows together. As he studied the situation, Regulus watched James’s prone form.

Normally, when someone fell as dramatically as he had, it would be a cause for concern. However, the sheer number of times that James had lost his balance this weekend alone made him hesitate. The bloke was remarkably uncoordinated for an athlete.

“He’s fine,” Sirius decided, settling back against his pillows. “If he was hurt, Padfoot would be dancing around and barking like mad.”

Regulus hadn’t given the bear-shaped “dog” any consideration, but now that he mentioned it, the animal was sitting next to James rather calmly. In the short time he’d been around it, the dog had leapt on him a half dozen times and barked more than that. If it wasn’t so large, he wouldn’t mind giving it a pat, but it was too big to be so aggressively insistent.

“Is he always like this?”

Sirius nodded, then glanced up. “Wait, James or Padfoot?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and gestured at the window. “Your friend has spent more time on his back than upright over the last two days.”

When his brother cackled, Regulus threw a pillow at his face. “You knew what I meant, pervert.”

“Oof!” Sirius swatted the pillow away and huffed. “Considering you’re the reason he hit the ground at least twice, I’d say that’s more of a you problem.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that he’s flustered around you. Pads likely tripped him up just now, but it’s certainly not a daily occurrence.”

Regulus watched as James finally hauled himself to his feet. Granted, he had contributed to his fall on the ice, but James’s trip into the bushes during the snowball fight seemed a bit more intentional. He accepted that the dog was a factor this time, but it was becoming a pattern.

Don’t you dare turn this into a puzzle.

He couldn’t resist a puzzle. It was a weakness that he indulged in selfishly, particularly when it was related to a fit bloke. That was his favourite kind.

“What are you up to?” Sirius asked, circling his hand in Regulus’s direction. “What’s this face?”

“I’m not making a face.”

“Mm-hmm. You’ve forgotten how well I know you. This reminds me of the face you made when you were whipping up ‘poisonous concoctions’ in your toy cauldron. You were…what? Six?”

Regulus smirked at the memory. “Four, I think. I loved that toy.”

“Never understood why mother bought it for you. She was adamantly against ‘improper toys.’”

“Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella,” he corrected. “I think Narcissa told them it was a chemistry set.” He shrugged as he leaned against the window frame. “Mother wouldn’t risk offending them by chucking it.”

Sirius rolled over and aimed a pointed look at him. “Right. So, why this current deviousness?”

“It’s nothing. Relax.”

“Liar.”

Liar.

Next Part>>>

[readyforthegarden]

For the confession dialogue prompts can you do 11 and 20 with Jake?

11. "don't make me say it. i can't say the words." & 20. "it hurts me, just how much i ache for you."

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" Jake looked up from the book in his hand, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Would I also be a worm in this hypothetical?" he asked.

"Mmm, no, just me. You'd have to be my caretaker, build me a terrarium and all that." you watched Jake consider her answer.

"Yeah, I'd probably still love you if you were a worm." he shrugged. "I'd miss human you a lot though."

"I would miss being human too, I think." you nodded, going back to your e-reader. One of the few thing you and Jake disagreed upon was your use of the e-reader. He preferred the physical book in his hand, while you would use the electronic copy, and purchase the physical book later if you liked it enough. But if he aggravated you enough about it, you were always quick to point out the horribly wrecked and dog-eared pages of his books.

"What prompted this question?" Jake asked, glancing over at you again.

"I don't know, just saw it online and was curious." you shrugged. You didn't notice Jake dog-earring his page, and setting the novel down on the arm of the couch, you only noticed him plucking your reader out of your hands and tossing it behind him onto the cushion before latching himself to you.

"Jake!" you giggled, as he rolled you from the couch onto the living room floor. He continued to roll the both of you until you were on top of him, your hair cascading around his face. He looked drowsily up at you, his smile making your heart flutter.

"I would love you if you were a worm, a duck, a crawfish...even if you were an ant." Jake told you, his hands on your thighs.

"Really?" you laughed. Jake sighed, his face softening, but becoming more serious.

"Don't make me say it, I can't say the words." he muttered softly.

"What words, Jakey?" you hummed, leaning down and pressing kisses along his jaw line, making him groan underneath you as you giggled. "What can't you say?"

"How much I love you," Jake hummed, pushing your hair back and out of your face.

"You just did, you dingus." you chuckled at his offended face, and he rolled you both over so you were the one on your back now.

"Dingus?" Jake gasped, sitting up as he straddled your hips, hands over his heart, clutching it like you fatally wounded him. "That hurts, I profess my love for you, and you call me a dingus?" Strands of hair had fallen from his small bun, and framed his grinning face.

"I called you it out of love, you know." Jake leaned down, kissing your cheek before giving it a soft nibble. Suddenly, he straightened up again, clutching onto his body and groaning, falling over to the side. You couldn't help but laugh at his dramatics, watching as he reached out for you.

"Yes Jake, what's wrong baby?" you cooed, coming over to him as he pretended to gasp, a small smirk tugging at his lips as you cupped his face and coddled him.

"It hurts," he rasped out.

"What baby, what hurts?" you urged him along.

"Just...how much I ache for you, my love," he sighed, before closing his eyes and played dead.

"Oh noooo, Jake!" you held back your laugh as he lolled his tongue out of his mouth, his head turned to the side. "Oh no, whatever will I do to bring you back?"

"Fla sure this" you furrowed your brow, leaning closer to hear exactly what Jake was murmuring under his breath.

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Flash your tits," his voice was high-pitched, making you giggle.

"Oh I don't know, the last time I flashed my tits to a dead guy, he turned out to be a real stiff." you muttered, and Jake fought a laugh, his chest bouncing giving him away. "I have heard a kiss can wake the dead, though, maybe I'll try that." you giggled again as you turned Jake's face towards you, watching him lick his lips in preparation for your lips. Leaning down, you grazed your lips against his, seeing his fingers twitching on the hand on his tummy. Before you knew it, that hand was lifted and in your hair, deepening the kiss.

When you pulled back, Jake blinked his eyes open, gasping in another dramatic fashion.

"Oh my god, I thought I was a goner!" he sat up, grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks. "Thank you for saving my life, baby!"

"Of course, my love." you giggled.

"How about I take you upstairs, and as a reward for saving my life, I'll reenact whatever was in your book that made your thighs clench earlier." Jake smirked at you.

"How do you-"

"I watch you sometimes. You make the best faces when you read."

"Shut up!" you gently swatted his arm as he tugged you up, scooping you in his arms and carrying you towards the stairs.

"So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to pick up that damn device?"

"Well, there's this tattooed mafia boss who's dark and twisted but secretly has a heart of gold..."

"Say no more." Jake winked at you, kicking the bedroom door shut with a thud.

[kralmajales]

15 questions + 15 people :) tagged by the lovely @schalotte , thank you so much!

1. Are you named after anyone?

My parents didn’t name me after anything, I think they just found a name they liked. As for what I named myself- well I did kind of name myself after someone but it’s fully just my name now.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Um….maybe about two weeks ago!

3. Do you have kids?

Nope! I kind of want them because I think raising a human would be super cool but I’m not sure if I’ll have any because I think I’d lose my mind if I had someone in my space like that at all times.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I don’t play any and I’ve never been particularly sporty. Used to play soccer in elementary school for the social aspect for maybe one or two years and I used to do various forms of dance (like ages 4 to 13ish.)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I don’t consider myself particularly sarcastic but I’ll use it if the situation/joke calls for it. I can definitely think of a time even today I was sarcastic but it was just to add on to someone else who was talking ABOUT sarcasm so really it was meta. There are layers here.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hair usually! And outfits :)

7. What’s your eye color?

Blue!

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies!

9. Any talents?

Hmm. I’m really good at public speaking. Also writing I guess I write a mean essay. I’m pretty good at acting too.

10. Where were you born?

New York City, babyyyy! Manhattan :) the hospital I was born in got shut down however. But it’s very interesting I fell down a Wikipedia rabbit hole when this question prompted me to look up that hospital out of curiosity to find out when exactly it closed . Really fascinating stuff. Wasn’t the question at all lol I really could’ve just said New York.

11. What are your hobbies?

I enjoy making playlists and reading and wandering around and sitting in the park and I’ve been writing a play which is fun :)

12. Do you have any pets?

I don’t personally have any pets at the moment but I grew up always having pets (currently my family has two dogs and two cats and I love them all very very dearly- one of the dogs is my best friend in the world, her name is Callisto, and of course she was named by me) and my roommates have a cat!

13. How tall are you?

5’2.

14. Favorite subject in school?

The literary journal elective I took every year but for main subjects- history, probably!

15. Dream job?

Band manager and I’m convinced I’d be the best at it.

And now for tagging the 15 people…… no pressure to anyone! @pygmalisms @batphobique @dustorange @rootbeerqueer @willakin @clawsomebeats @hotgirldrpepper @runekept @electricfishes @countrymikelover @headforhalos @pleasuresoftheharbor @childanddamselfly @anaksibias @hesitantalien2014

[valeriianz]

20 questions for fic writers!

tagged by @honeyteacakes <3 (and belatedly, @tharkuun haha)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

400,576 (+ 100k extra from fics i've deleted/orphaned in the past few years haha rip)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

i am at the mercy of the hyperfixation, and currently it's The Sandman and Dreamling exclusively.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1) Salvation (How to Get Away With Murder) 2) The Red Witch (Good Omens) 3) Bolt in the Blue (The Sandman) 4) Let Me Down Easy (The Sandman) 5) Show Me (The Mandalorian)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes and no. i love that people take the time to show their appreciation for a fic and i always want to reply and show how much it means to me... but i have this bad habit of not replying to comments on say, older works or older chapters of a fic. idk why... im just not good at it lol BUT I LOVE AND APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE COMMENT, EVEN THE LITTLE ONES 💖💖

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, Exit Wounds, for sure haha

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

im a sucker for happy endings so i'd say, everything else lol but particularly Almost Idyllic (The Song of Achilles) due to the build up and Salvation also, because of the events leading up to the ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not since my ff.net days haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

very occasionally. and nothing too wild (except for that dreamling butt plug one. that was. hmm.) but i typically enjoy writing first times.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i do not.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope. though i have seen ideas/prompts used without credit. it doesn't bother me much.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

once, The Red Witch (which btw has been discontinued, pls don't read it lol). it started off just me, then my editor jumped on maybe 5 chapters in once i realized they were much more versed in magick and fantasy than me.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

haha probably Zutara.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ahhh haha... fuck. idk i want to say none. but my brain keeps whispering about the dreamling road trip au. i thought i had a plot but as i continue working on bitb and other little drabbles... ive realized i might've bitten off more than i can chew. and my only option is to completely sideline it until im done with bitb, or change the story (because right now the research i have to do for it is too much and y'all know how i am...) it sucks cos i do want to write it. but it's difficult when all my patience for research is already going into one fic (bitb).

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue and monologuing, probably.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

self 👏 motivation ��� finding 👏 the 👏 urge 👏 to 👏 write (technically, it's tense. i flip between past and present tense constantly and at this point i just consider it one of my endearing qualities pfft)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i try to avoid it but when it happens i just use Google Translate and then toss a disclaimer that ive done my best (to which usually a commenter will helpfully correct me and then all is well)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Inuyashaaaaa (Miroku/Sango omg). exchanging physical notebooks with my friends with fanfics we'd written in school lol

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

truly a tie between Savory & Sweet and Let Me Down Easy (at the moment). the restaurant au was so easy and fun to write (probably because i used to be in the industry) and i reread it a lot. the pacing is fast and i love how immediate Hob and Dream fall into each other haha. Let Me Down Easy was very similar. my major was Media Production in undergrad and although it's been a while since i've held a camera, it was fun putting myself back in that environment. also the angst and tension were just a blast to write and figure out.

(this was an excellent waste of time, thanks again!) tagged, if y'all want, @magnusbae @teejaystumbles @ml-nolan @tj-dragonblade @reallyintoscience @delta-pavonis @staroftheendless

[lettalady]

20 Questions for Writers

Felt a little like rambling through some answers about writing and AO3. Feel free to play if you're up for it!

How many works do you have on AO3?

200 at the moment, though of those there are a few that are prompt challenge works because they were hardly enough to be considered a full story on their own.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

985,325 words and counting, which makes me want to pull the word counts from the various WIPs that haven't made it to AO3 yet but ♫ patience is a virtue ♫ (that I'm clearly struggling with at the moment).

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for the Hiddleston, Evans, Brühl, Mikkelsen fandoms - and have a few WIPs that haven't made it to the point of being posted yet but are in development. (And always am open to prompts though I haven't posted anything about the word prompt challenge in awhile... hmm)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

You've Only Just Arrived (actor!TWH) Unsettled (actor!TWH au) The Long Journey Home (TFATWS Baron Zemo/Sokovian reader/Bucky Barnes) A Turn of the Knife (Ransom Drysdale/ Knives Out prequel) Close Quarters (actor!TWH)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Nearly always and likely far too soon after they're posted. Comments are fantastic for learning what pieces of the work really resonated, or what needs to be amended going forward because it didn't land the way that was intended.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Where we've left off in Unsettled probably allows that story to claim the title (which arguably that story wins angstiest anyway), but standing alone I'd say there's a fair few oneshots that could qualify. If you consider snippets of What If, there's one from the LJH world that would win hands down, but I don't consider those snippets as full fics...

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Completed works - probably Lakeside or The Journalist (proper). Where we've left off in You've Only Just Arrived is setting us up for the happy ending that will inevitably occur.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

I've had a couple comments that stemmed more from misunderstanding than seemed grounded in hate. It was easily clarified and the issue remedied (at least for the first thing that springs to mind).

9. Do you write smut?

Yup.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Haven't had the opportunity yet, but never say never.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. Quite a shitty feeling when your work is posted without your consent. Please don't do that.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

The Heart of a Villain (jaguar-villain!TWH)

14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?

I very much enjoy creating [insert character here]/ reader (or original character) ships within various fandoms. My current favorite ship I'm working on isn't even posted yet, but head over heels for villain!Brühl. In terms of a ship I'll always love, though I haven't written for it, is Evelyn & Rick O'Connell from The Mummy (1999)/ The Mummy franchise.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Never say never. I've had a few peter out from my attention being drawn elsewhere, but fully intend on going back and finishing out what I started.

16. What’re your writing strengths?

I'd estimate that when the dialogue flows it flows really well? When I reread that's what I tend to enjoy the most, along with the emotional connection to the characters. Then again, having lived in those worlds in order to write them... biased opinion. So very biased.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

It varies fic to fic honestly. Sometimes the scene doesn't want to be described and it's like pulling teeth to get anything in there. I'd classify the umpteen ongoing WIPs as a weakness as well. The urge to chase the other characters, the other story, and let the ones active/in progress languish... it's something I'd like to improve on, at least.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've used it as a storytelling element in a few works at this point. I tend towards including the translation in { brackets } for clarification - so long as the characters know the language they're speaking or overhearing. (And please please if you spot anything that's not correct I'm always open to amending the errors!)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First ever isn't posted here, or to AO3 either. I doubt I'll ever pull the docs and notebooks together to transcribe the Backstreet Boys works - but I suppose never say never holds in that situation too. First that is here and AO3, after I gave myself permission to start writing again, is You've Only Just Arrived.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Too difficult a question. There's too much of me in the words, in the characters. I love each of them for varying reasons.

[azurechicken]

15 Questions Tagged by @nirvana-war-queen thanks for tagging me!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope, just a popular name at the time which led to many unfortunate nicknames teachers gave me because there was always at least two more people with the same name in the class (i prefer nicknames my friends gave me now and am considering legal changes)

2. When was the last time you cried?

I guess it was a week ago. I needed it out so bad that it was prompted by a silly thing my bf said and I cried laughing because it was actually funny and I was having a meltdown for no reason over it ashdgsdhjs

3. Do you have kids?

Nope. Hopefully stays that way for a long while (at least till i decide otherwise)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Most of the time. I do try to keep it light and understandable though

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

Volleyball for a while, though that was so long ago now 😭 Currently trying to match my wallet and schedule for Archery, dunno when i will start

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

Ohhh definitely mannerisms, hard to explain but sometimes i remember only their vibes and none of their physical appearances bc of this 💀

7. Eye colour?

Green... Seafoamish

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings for sure. I dislike scary movies bc im scared ok??? and my sister forces me to watch them all the time so I hate them more each day

9. Any special talents?

Uhhhh, I adapt really easily I think

10. Where were you born?

In a location like a bridge between Europe and Asia, with none of their good attributes lmao

11. What are your hobbies?

Knitting, reading, writing, drawing and painting, world building, playing games (mostly this lol), and I don't know how much of a hobby this can be but I love having critical discussions about stuff and I prompt it regularly with people I know who are into it

12. Do you have any pets?

Used to take in animals that needed extra care and/or was abandoned so I peaked at 11 cats at one point, last two years changed a lot in my lifestyle and it doesn't really allow that now but still considering getting at least 2 cats soon?

13. How tall are you?

1.70 (I guess that makes around 5'7)

14. Fave subject at school?

hmm, literature in general but definitely linguistics later on, love that stuff

15. Dream job?

Dream job is a myth and working sucks but I guess I would like doing translations or working on linguistics, both aren't too far dreams for my education thankfully Tagging @sillyliterature and @ferrerorogier if you are up for it!! ✨

[multifandom-fanfic-writer]

20 Questions for fic writers

Let's goooo

How many works do you have on Ao3?

36! Well that's certainly A Number

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

585,468 (gonna his the 600k soon)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Which don't I write for? Lol. Mostly Naruto and Hannibal. I've also written several fics for TMA, MCU, Ace Attorney, The Sandman, and fics for OFMD, GO and the Witcher.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shinra Tensei (Naruto: Akatsuki!Sakura fic(

you may be a sinner, but your innocence is mine (cute hannigram)

howl (non-trad a/b/o hannigram)

brighten the darkest hour (sandman hob/dream, but only bc i posted it on the right time i think tbh)

hold me, kiss me, rip off my tongue (plot and porn hannigram)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely! Not super fast, but I keep all the comment alerts in a folder of 'not yet answered' and move them from that folder when I've responded. In general the longer/more detailed the comment the more I try to give a very nice reply because I appriciated the comment. That can be hard to do without spoilers or leaving people to interpret the story how they like, sometimes.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

absolutely butterfly. I mean everyone dies. It's super tragic. Only time I really sat down to write an angst fic

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably Cooking for a Cutie (hannigram x queer eye). I mean, Will gets actual help, the Fab Five are wholesome and in character, and it's really just happy all is well vibe in general.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not on Ao3. I used to post on ff.net as well, both when I was a younger (and less good) writer, and got hate there. Even on Shinra Tensei when I used to post it there. Which I stopped. Because ff.net in my experience had so much haters compared to Ao3, where I've gotten criticism, yes, but not hate.

9. Do you write smut?

Heh. Yeah. Though often they are shorter fics that are centered around the sexual tension, with some exceptions (like my Steddy Hands fic) and for my big novels who are more dystopian vibe I don't write smut, because it doesn't fit. It has to fit the plot/themes of the story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

A bit - I wrote a good omens/sandman crossover, and the aforementioned hannibal/queer eye crossover. But they are not very crazy, honestly, keep to both of their canons as much as possible, too. I wouldn't consider them crazy (though the second one more so than the first).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah! A couple of times, all of them Hannigram, I think. All of them in Russian at the Russian fic site, and they asked permission and I linked to that fic site too. I even went their once to read the comments there hihi

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. I did do a collab once where someone made art and I wrote fic. That was nice, but honestly not my favourite experience, especially the deadline attached to it. Same reason I've done a zine once but aren't a fan of it (for me) or those weekly prompts thing or whatever. I want to write when my muse is on, when I have time and energy for it, otherwise it isn't fun anymore. Co-writing a fic would also only be pressure for me.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Hmm... honestly, I think my favourite thing to write is the dynamic between the protagonist and the fucked up world they live in (maybe personified through a saviour or villain). So... yeah?

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have two I want to finish but fear I'll never have the inspiration for again - one is a CR RPF fic that I have the second (smut) chapter half-written for, but I wrote such a long time ago I would have to re-write the whole thing, and I'm not sure I want to anymore. Second is a TMA JonElias fic I've written 4.5 out of 5 chapters for and I just don't have the muse for anymore. Maybe I'll finish the second one someday, but I'll probably won't finish the first.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Difficult for me to say about myself, lol. Uh. Worldbuilding, I think, and character voice? And fight scenes, or at least that's what people like about my Naruto fic. It also depends a bit on the thing I write fanfiction for. I'm honestly not quite sure. I'm not good at naming my own strengths lol

17. What are you writing weaknesses?

Writing things in too many words / using too many words, including over-used unnecessary words I think. Or worldbuiling something an obvious way and then missing an obvious question. Although that last one is also style, I don't worldbuild everything to the detail.

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

Not a fan, honestly. It can be done well - a very small couple of lines in another language said by a random not-even-minor character with the translation at the end of the chapter or otherwise somehow provided. But it can mostly be confusing and cause me to scroll up and down annoyingly.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

LOL Jonas Brothers self-insert fic in my native language which thankfully never saw the light of day HAHA

20. Favorite fic you have written?

Oh most certainly my life's work Shinra Tensei and the sequel Bansho Ten'nin. Not only my biggest and longest fic, but also the one I love most. Which is why I started writing it around like 2015 (posted first chapter in like 2017) and am still writing it, and finally moving into the 4th and last arc soon.

[sasusake]

SasuSaku Month 2017, day 2 prompt: Something More.

Second part to Roadside Misadventures, #2: Drunk. M-rated.

--

Sakura woke up to unrelenting nausea. Her mouth felt as if it held ash and paper instead of tongue and teeth; even swallowing scratched at her tender throat. She tried to move, but there was a weight in her, as if she’d slept under the mattress instead of on it. Her limbs felt heavy and numb, foreign to her.

         «You can touch me, too.»

 A faraway voice echoed in her mind. Sakura dismissed it sternly.

It must still be very early. The faded light that filtered through the thin curtains had a soft hue of rose, but it was still harsh enough on her eyes to make her want to bury her face in the sheets.

Gathering enough healing chakra to slowly dull the ache in her temples, she sluggishly placed both hands on her painful head. A few minutes went by, and much of what remained from her hangover was a dry mouth and that lingering heaviness. Water, she needed water.

Sakura tried to prop herself up. Something hindered her movements; she was being held, more than merely weighed down by wilted limbs.

         «You can use all of me…»

 It was then she began to truly acknowledge her surroundings.

An empty futon lay on the floor just in front of her, crumpled and cold. Warmth irradiated from the arm that rested gently upon her waist, and she could see the marks and scars scattered upon it like constellations. The soft, steady breathing on her neck was, only now, evoking shudders down her spine. Her pulse darted immediately.

         «I… want to show you more. And… I want to feel more.»

Blinking hard, she tried to check if she was just dreaming.

But no dream could ever hope to match this.

“You're awake,” said Sasuke, voice thick with sleep. Her heart broke into frantic pace, overtaken by a restlessness she could not control.

A million questions coursed through her mind. She could not bring herself to voice even one of them, entirely lost in inarticulate surrender. Her body, now weightless, only resisted floating away due to the presence of his arm.

His arm, surrounding her hip; his lips, moving but inches from her neck. She could stay like this forever, and she would be content.

Sakura felt the vertigo spiralling from within. She wanted nothing more but to lose herself in it, to turn to him and tangle her limbs in his, to kiss him until she ran out of breath and succumbed to this dreadful, all consuming desire.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asked. The closeness of his voice still felt surreal, dreamlike.

Sakura isn't sure.

         «I want to sleep naked in your bed.»

 What if… ?

She closed her eyes, brought her hands to her chest, and she lied.

“No, I… I don't remember.”

“Ah. I see.”

He relieved his hold on her. She wished she had the courage to pull him back.

The spell was broken. Sakura trembled when he parted from her, but was still too numb to beg his return.

“How did I … end up here?” Here, in your bed; here, with you holding me as you did only seconds ago.

Sasuke sighed. Carefully, Sakura turned to look at him. There was something in his eyes she couldn't begin to understand.

“You had too much to drink,” he said, sitting up. “And I should have known better.”

“You drank, too.”

He chuckled, unamused. “Well, I'm glad I stopped when I did. Otherwise, we…” Sasuke paused, apparently troubled by his own thoughts. He seemed to be considering his next words carefully. “Could have done something we might regret.”

Standing to full height, he stretched the sleep away before disappearing into the bathroom. The door closed, and Sakura let out a long, winded breath.

She lay on the small mattress, still wrapped in those sheets that smelled like him, and played in her mind the bits of memories that had surfaced. She felt ashamed, foolish and utterly distraught that the words that resounded in her mind could have left her lips.

However, Sasuke's expression left her wondering – did he not regret sleeping with her?

-

-

The rest of the day carried on almost wordlessly. Sasuke wasn't much of a talker as per norm, although he spoke even less than usual. As for Sakura, well, the more she listened to the voice in her head – her own voice – the less she felt like talking.

To her own mortification, she was unable to pretend that she had not said the things she'd said. That she wanted to touch him. That she wanted him to touch her. That she wanted to lie naked with him, to kiss him endlessly, to make love.

It was nearly impossible to make eye contact, much less love, even when they did speak.

Their travels carried them far away from the last village, until they reached a tall, lumbering forest with dark trees and few flowers. She had always pitied such places,  forests with little to no blossoms to fill the senses.

It smelled of mud and rain, of rotting leaves and stale puddles. The sky retreated into the horizon and clouds gathered, dark and heavy, looming overhead. Before long, the timid drizzle had grown into a downpour and they were soaked to the bone.

“Fucking hate this weather,” Sasuke spat, clearly irritated. An unusual outburst, indication of a sour mood.

Just like me, then, Sakura mused, kicking at the small twigs and branches that littered the sopping ground.

They took shelter under a modest cave. It was tall enough that Sasuke didn't need to slouch, and long enough they could light a fire inside without worrying about it becoming a danger.

With one of her favorite devices – a metal box you could hook to the wall, containing a wire that stretched several feet in length – Sakura set out their clothes to dry. Fat drops of water dripped from their capes to the ground, even after she'd wrenched them.

With their backs turned, each of them rummaged through their travel bags in search of something dry to wear.

“Everything is soaking wet,” she grumbled, resentful. “At least the food was spared.”

“Don’t you have a plastic bag?” His voice floated behind her.

“Damn thing has a hole in it, that’s why… ugh!” Frustrated, she tossed the piece of plastic aside and tried to select something she could wear. Pretty much everything was somewhere between damp and drenched.

“Here,” she heard him. Something soft and dry landed on her shoulder. Sakura took the grey shirt in her hand, grateful. After the initial relief over having dry clothes to slip into, she found her cheeks warming up to his scent.

“You don’t mind if I wear it?”

“Of course I don’t. All I have is one pair of clean pants, though. You can – ”

“That’s fine. This’ll do. Thank you.” Wrestling off her qipao and bra as quickly as possible, Sakura shuddered as soft cotton came in contact with icy skin. Cold fingers lacking deftness, it took her a while to get all the buttons done up.

“I was gonna say we should have done laundry back in the village, but…” she shimmied out of her shorts and boots and collected her wet clothes. “Wouldn’t have done me much good now, to be honest.”

“We’ll do laundry at the next one. We should be there tomorrow night if we wake early.”

“Right.”

“We got lucky,” he said. “There’s some usable pieces of wood back here. I can start a fire, but it won’t last long.”

“Give me your clothes. I’ll hang them up while you do your thing.”

Nodding, Sasuke swiftly handed her the damp attire. He didn’t even look at her. It was only when she had her back to him, and the flare of orange flames lit up the dark cave walls, that she remembered how much better his eyesight was than hers, especially in the dark – and how, even if oversized on her, his grey shirt was no replacement for a pair of pants.

Again: the heat, and the cheeks, and the awfully inconvenient thudding of her discourteous heart.

They shared their food and mostly ate in silence. Luckily, Sasuke’s quilt had also avoided most of the rain, and they had somewhere nice to sit on rather than the cool earth.

However, the problem was precisely that she sat so close to him.

(she never, ever in her life would have imagined sitting next to Sasuke-kun could be labelled a problem)

Embarrassed, Sakura had sat on her knees. Her legs were getting cold and sore. She cursed the decision not to wear the damn underwear straight away. It’d be better to brave a cold bottom than to risk – her mind did a little somersault at the thought – flashing Sasuke.

After last night, this was the last thing she wanted to happen.

         « I want you… to kiss me until I can’t breathe… I want, I want… let’s be happy… I love you.»

 Shuddering, she willed the recollection away, along with the still-too-vivid impression of his warmth surrounding her. At least, wearing his shirt, she could still smell him.

The fire began to dwindle, as it didn’t have much more to burn on. Sakura kept watching the rain outside, trying to ignore the stinging emptiness in her chest. Anything to keep her eyes from wandering over to him, sitting so closely, so effortlessly handsome.

It was he who broke the silence.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Hm?” Distracted, she winced at the sound of his voice, velvety and warm.

“Your hangover.”

“Ah. Y-yeah, I’m… better.” Her voice felt small and weak, so she cleared her throat. “I’m better. Wouldn’t be much of a medic-nin if I couldn’t cure my own hangover, right?” She let out a nervous little chuckle, resisting the urge to peer at him.

“Right.” Sakura could have sworn she’d heard him sigh. Maybe it was just the wind blowing through, or leaves rustling outside.

Or did he?

“Sakura.” The way he called her name was enough to make her feel light-headed. Whatever he was going to say, he had a serious tone to it. “You said you don’t remember last night. If that’s the case, I should tell you. We should… talk about it. I think I owe you an explanation.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened and, finally, she looked at him. “Oh, oh – wait.”

His stare might as well burn through cloth and flesh alike. Sakura braved through a hurricane of butterflies trapped inside her chest, her stomach, and found out she was unable to hold his gaze once again.

Swalling the knot in her throat, she hesitated. “Well… it’s a little fuzzy, I’ll admit, although I… I guess I wasn’t entirely honest this morning. I mean, well, umm. It’s still in bits and pieces, but –”

“You remember.” Calm, he sounded calm. As always. Sasuke-kun always looked calm, always looked composed. It made her feel very gauche in contrast, but why should she equate them in the first place? She was Sakura, and he was Sasuke; she was light and pink and bouncy laughter, he was dark and black and perfect posture, even when he slouched. Nobody could pull that off like he did.

(he was not as calm as he seemed)

All Sakura could do was nod. Her legs were getting number and colder, no matter how much she pulled at the ends of his shirt.

“I see.”

“…you’re mad.”

“Did you mean it?”

This time she looked up, blinking. There was something soft and unexpected in his expression, something flighty and hopeful that caught her in a daze. It wasn’t always easy to read him, as he guarded his expressions carefully, but lately he seemed to be more open, more earnest.

More open to her, at least.

Or maybe she had just gotten better at it, as time went by.

“What you said last night,” as she didn’t respond Sasuke insisted, assertive, eyebrows pulled together, “about you. About us. Did you mean it?”

Cornered, she at least owed him honesty. “Yes.”

(that such a small word could weigh this much)

A sigh – of relief ? – escaped those faultless, regal lips.

“Then, no, I’m not mad.”

Sakura felt like she should say something, but nothing occurred outside of an apology.

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “I’m the one who took advantage.”

Took… advantage? Surely, he must be joking.

Sakura considered the word. Advantage. A benefit, a favourite position or circumstance. She considered what it meant; to him, to her.

Sucking in her breath, it was now or never. She owed him honesty about her feelings; she owed it to herself. Whether he wanted her or not, time spent with him was precious to her, and if he cared for nothing more than companionship – it would suffice.

It would have to suffice.

“Sasuke-kun, just being able to travel with you brings me so much happiness. Everything that we share, I’m glad for it. I’m thankful for every moment, I truly am.” She hugged herself, reminiscing. “Today, I woke up next to you. Your arm was on me, and you were so warm.”

She let out a sigh, unable to keep a small, timid smile from burgeoning. Hangover or not, that was the best morning she’d ever had.

“I felt… like I was someone dear to you.”

“You are. I –” He paused, diffident. Those words alone were warming, like sunshine in her veins.

“Listen, if what you said last night… if that’s how you feel, then…” It wasn’t like him to speak in fragments. Sasuke had always been a decided man, even as a boy, of few words that meant a lot. He always knew what to say, like he’d memorized a script and had his lines ready. He seldom vacillated. He was self-assured so when he spoke, he spoke with certainty. “Then it’s the same for me. Okay? I want something more, too.”

The world had stopped spinning, surely. Sakura forgot how to breathe.

“You said all those things. You said you wanted to make me happy.” Sasuke turned to her, yet his eyes kept getting lost on the way to meet hers. “So if there’s more of this, of any of this –” his warm, large hand took one of hers, small and light and tremulous, and the rush of heat that was born upon contact made every hair on her body stand on edge. “I just want to make sure it’s mutual. That I have your consent.”

Consent to what?

It was a little too much to take in at once. Sakura needed a moment, or maybe ten.

He leaned forward.

Oh.

Moments be damned. There wasn’t a minute to spare, not a breath to waste.

“It is. I mean, you do. That is, I –“

The rest of her words disappeared when his thumb stroked her cheek. Sakura leaned against his touch; her face fit perfectly into his palm.

This kiss felt new, she thought. It ran hotter from his lips through hers, took longer than any other had before. He broke apart to catch his breath, only to meet again, each kiss deeper, more tender and wild.

For the first time, his tongue ran across her lip. The tremor he evoked in her made the world burst into colour, illuminating even that dark, forgotten place with a shine of its own.

He was about to pull away, to drag a curtain over the light he shone, but she held on to his shoulders. Now that she had him – now that he allowed her to have him, only if for a heartbeat – she didn’t want to let go just yet.

“Please,” she beckoned. “Stay.”

Sasuke seemed to contemplate her request in quiet discomposure. He squinted, struggling against himself – holding back, when all she wanted was for him to give in – and he made her wait no longer.

The closer Sasuke drew to her, the harder it was for her to hold her legs in position. Sakura didn’t feel cold anymore, she didn’t feel the numbness from before. She felt a weakness but not in strength, worn out by a deluge of heat.

There was no telling who pushed or who pulled.

But by the time Sakura lay on her back and stretched her legs, he was already kissing her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. The weight of his body pressed down on her, and she could only gasp to his fervour.

Never could she have imagined he’d have this much to give; never did it cross her mind that Sasuke had this much passion, this much tenderness – this much longing in him. His movements were, like hers, tentative and hesitant. But what he lacked in experienced he made up for in intent.

Something hard pushed against her thigh just as she bit his lower lip. Sasuke broke his silence with a low, rumbling groan, and the sound was such novelty to her that the clamour in her chest grew tenfold, and the heat… by the Gods, the heat, it threatened to consume her from within and she had to do something, anything, whatever it took to dull the ache.

For a moment he seemed to be searching her features. Sakura ran her hand through his hair, damp and thick, and nodded.

Her legs now parted – unthinking, out of instinct, out of need – there was barely any time for cool air to bring reprieve. Sakura squealed when she felt Sasuke readjust himself to her position; that hard, heavy pressure now settled firmly against her bare, tender core.

She felt insanely high, overtaken with a rush that made her vision blur for an instant. The thrill of these new sensations was almost too much to bear, the intensity of Sasuke’s aphrodisia shaking her to the very bone. Sakura moaned, she mewled, frantically searched for air until her hips bucked against him, against the hardness of his want.

“I’m –” suddenly, Sasuke abandoned her swollen lips and pulled himself back.

Quick to react, she held him in place with a leg on either side. “Don’t go…!” Then, as if coming to her senses, she swiftly pulled her knees back.

Don’t go…

Some odd, un-Sasuke like sound escaped his throat, and at that moment Sakura remembered she’d left her underwear hanging on the wire.

It was a tangled mess, between bumping knees and hands fretting about with clothes obviously not long enough for modesty, and even he was fumbling with his words when only a moment ago he was so, so decided.

What had changed?

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed with unsteady breath, looking torn.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“With this,” he rolled his shoulders, his palm settling on the back of his neck. Sakura noted the rise in his pants and her breath hitched again. “I mean… how do… should we stop? Is this even the right place?”

“Wha… do you want to stop?” It was hurt, more than anything, that weighed on her voice now. To her, it didn’t matter where she was. She was with him, and for all she cared no palace in the world could hope to be as comfortable as his embrace.

“Do you?”

Sakura shook her head. “No.”

And then, fingers trembling, she undid the buttons of the shirt she wore and she took his hand in hers, bringing it to her chest.

“What I said… last night…” there was wonderment in his gaze, and it granted her courage. “You can have all of me.”

The light cast from the evanescent fire grew dimmer, the world reducing itself to their own little corner. Dark eyes flickered with something feral, something raw and untamed roiling under the surface, ready to claim her. His fingers touched her ribs, first; a fluttering breath came when he reached the underside of her breast. The largeness of his hand fully enveloped her softness with a gentle squeeze. Sakura gasped, enthralled as was he, captivated by this wordless intimacy.

She let him feel her heartbeat in his palm, let him hold her heart in his hand, allowed him access to the innocence she had to offer.

I just want to make you happy. But also, I’m… being selfish, aren’t I?

His thumb grazed her hardened nipple, flicked it ever so lightly, before drawing away with a satisfied, throaty hum. The way he licked his lips before pulling off his shirt was enough to send her reeling back into the same asphyxiating trance.

A tight shiver ran hotly down her spine, until the very tip of her fingers prickled with the urge to caress him, too.

Sakura reached out, hesitant. Unmoving, Sasuke watched her with riveted gaze. He tensed at her touch, as fingertips traced the defined lines of his body, charting the scars that spread, here and there, across otherwise faultless skin. Muscles rippled as she outlined his stomach, around his navel, the pelvic lines on each side – until her index and ring finger hooked behind the waistband of his pants.

He hissed. Something moved under the cotton slacks, barely brushing her hand, and Sakura’s eyes widened at the reaction.

“Not yet,” he snarled, taking her by the wrist and urging her to lie back down. She complied, cheeks burning deep red as he parted her knees – not just because he was looking at her like this, naked and exposed, but because his stare seared through her skin like hot steam. A rough, calloused hand ran down the length of her thigh with untamed urgency, and she fought the impulse to cover her face with her hands.

She couldn’t take it much longer. The tender ache between her legs, already slick with ardor, resonated with anticipation for the sweet, delicious pressure he had to offer.

This time, as he eased himself upon her once again, they were skin on skin. The sensitive peaks of her breasts, now laid bare against the soft, sinewy muscles of his chest, felt like metal rods ensnared by a thunderstorm.

He was being gentler with his kisses, now. Thoughtful, she considered. This much tenderness coming from him, of all people… Not for the first time today, her heart swelled with delight until it hurt. That they could have come this far, that Sasuke – once so broken, so torn, so cold – could ever be with her like this, brought her bliss beyond words.

Sasuke was saved. He was alive. He was living; and he was letting her love him. Truthfully, he was loving her, wasn’t he?

The bulk of him held her against the ground and made her his, holding her there as if he feared she may fade away. Never, she thought aimlessly, never will I fade from you. She trusted, as their skin glided together, as they danced to the same heartbeat, that he knew this.

The fire finally withered into nothingness, its flames reflected in the shimmer of a blood red eye.

“S-Sasuke-kun…” she panted his name, holding him closer, thighs clenching around his legs as he rolled into her in the muted darkness. His breathing grew louder, rougher, and Sakura began to writhe beneath him, to grind against his hips until her gasps grew frantic, sharper, rising into moans, her pulse in ecstatic turmoil.

“Sa…” he began, but buried her name along with his lips into the crook of her neck, now pushing harder, thrusting against her, and if not for his slacks he’d already be inside her, stirring her from within, blending with her.

And if she already felt this good, this hot and wet with every jerk of his hips and so, so close to the edge, she began to grow impatient with the need for more. Sakura parted her legs further, blindly feeling the length of his back until she finally reached his slacks, sensed his body quiver as she was about to slip her fingers between cloth and skin –

“Don’t – f… fuck!” His weight crushed her, depriving her lungs of air as he shuddered. The lack of oxygen, the friction on her bare sex, rendered Sakura a writhing mess. All she could do was brace herself against him, wrap her arms around his shaking form and ride out the roaring throb of his cock, swollen and impossibly hard, until the shaking had subsided and his breath came back in ragged, deep draws.

I think he… I think he’s…!

After that, Sasuke didn’t move for a while. His body was warm, as if feverish, damp with sweat. A moment passed, and he finally eased some of the weight off her, beginning to stand on his elbows and knees.

In what little moonlight still breached inside the cave, Sakura could finally see his expression: painful satisfaction, traces of guilt. Pleasure. She could see pleasure in his face, and knowing she was the cause of it allowed her some form of pride.

What little tremors still agitated within him in the aftermath of his frenzy, also carried into her; but, in Sakura, these were the prelude of a stolen orgasm, and not the remnants of one.

Still, in her heart, she was contented.

Sakura had been close enough – close enough with him, with Sasuke-kun, was better than anything she’d felt before.

Gently, he lifted himself off her and rolled, unceremoniously, to the ground by her side.

A moment passed, again, in languid silence.

Skin prickling, from the lack of his warmth on her and the murmur of cold air, Sakura began to button her shirt (his shirt, Sasuke’s shirt) back up.

“The fire’s out,” she mumbled, stating the obvious, not knowing what else to say.

“We’re out of dry wood,” he exhaled, still catching up on himself. Then, after a beat, “Sakura, did you…?”

She turned her face toward him, blinking. The question hung in the air until his struggled expression brought its meaning to light.

Goodness.

What was she supposed to answer? What he implied made her self-conscious, and she tittered somewhat nervously. It was kind that he cared enough to ask, but she didn’t just want to say no.

She wanted to say thank you, she wanted to tell him it felt good. He’d made her feel good. This was more than she’d ever hoped for, and if such a thing was at all possible, Sakura loved him even more. Overflowing with endearment that she could not place into words, Sakura but smiled.

Sasuke sighed. “You deserve better.”

“Love isn’t about deserving, Sasuke-kun,” she bristled. They’d had this conversation already, on the night of their first kiss. “I’m not above you. And –”

“Not that,” he smirked, bemused.

(deep down, he still felt her love was something undeserved to the likes of him. but he’d let her win that argument, if it made her happy)

“I meant, this place. It’s cold and damp, it’s uncomfortable. It’s not what I had in mind for…”

She couldn’t keep susprise off her voice. “What you had in mind?”

Sasuke’s face did something close to a grimace. “Forget it.”

Excitement flared at the pit of her stomach. She let it go, holding her tongue despite curiosity’s best efforts. Sasuke was a reserved creature still, and she knew they had to do this at his pace or not at all.

Sakura turned her back to him, allowing him enough privacy to clean himself up and slip back into his shirt. She sighed, content, and closed her eyes. Then, she sneezed.

“Tch.”

Another sneeze.

“You’re cold.”

“I’m fine,” she sniffled.

Sasuke moved closer – annoying, he mumbled – and pulled at the small of her hip. “Be quiet and come here.”

“I-is this okay?”

“Aa.”

“Humm…” With her head tucked against his chest, his arm around her back, legs pulled together, she never felt cozier.

“Tch.”

“Was is it?”

“These were my last clean clothes… Sakura. Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t.

Just before sleep took over, he kissed the crown of her head and gripped her shirt tightly, just between her shoulder blades; then, he drew a circle with his index before resting his palm against her spine.

She loves him.

(He loves her, too)

[floralcyanide]

ignore if you wanted angst but prompt 11 in a good way ??

consider billy and stu not knowing love is actually real (bc they never felt it) and getting surprised when they fall for reader. the “i have to leave so i don’t say something i regret” is more based on that they don’t want to admit their love bc that makes it more real to them and it’s still a scary thing for them.

angst but with a happy ending prompt 11: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.”

>> I’m so sorry this took so long to write and it probably isn't good ): I rushed the ending a little I'm sorry! I just wanted to get this posted so yall didn't think I flaked. please enjoy! also, Sidney and Tatum aren't dating Billy and Stu in this.

pairing: billy loomis x reader, stu macher x reader, poly!ghostface x reader

warnings: angst, kissing, confessions of feelings, brief rejection

word count: 583

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

Love is fucking terrifying to Billy and Stu. They’ve never felt it towards someone except each other, even if they have no idea. But with you it’s different- the feelings they have for you are more intense and real. And that scares them to death. So when you’re all drunk at one of Stu’s parties and playing Truth or Dare, some words and actions are exchanged that aren’t meant to be.

“Okay (Y/N), truth or dare?” Randy rubs his hands together, anticipating your choice carefully.

“Hmm, dare,” you say challengingly, widening your eyes in a wild expression.

“Alright! I dare you to say who you have a crush on,” Randy smirks.

You gulp, looking around at your group of friends nervously. You’re sure they wouldn’t be weirded out or anything, having a crush on two people is normal. But having a crush on two people who happened to be best friends, and your best friends too? That isn’t the most fun idea in the world.

“I changed my mind, I pick truth,” you say quickly, scratching your neck.

“Oh, come on (Y/N), are you scared?” Randy teases you, laughing from his spot across from you on the floor.

“Leave her alone, douchebag,” Billy pipes up from next to you, an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey,” Randy puts his hands up in defense, “It’s just a game.”

“No, you’re right, Randy. I’ll tell you who I like,” you sigh, deciding to just bite the bullet.

Everyone looks at you expectantly as the room falls silent.

You look between Stu to your left, and Billy to your right, absolutely terrified.

“I like Billy and Stu,” you say quietly, playing with your hands.

“Aww, that’s sweet!” Sidney says, smiling from her spot beside Randy.

“You should go for it, (Y/N),” Tatum wiggles her eyebrows at you with a smirk.

You feel uncomfortable even with support from everyone else, so you get up and begin walking towards the front door, “I need air.”

Stu and Billy get up and follow you once you’re out of the door, leaving everyone behind as they wonder if you’re okay.

“Is everything alright?” Stu asks quietly, putting a soft hand on your shoulder.

You’re facing away from both of them, wanting to shrug off Stu’s hand but you don’t want to push them away.

“Not really, I wasn’t expecting to tell you like this, or even at all,” you mumble, crossing your arms as the fall air hits your bare skin.

“Hey,” Billy puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure? You guys aren’t weirded out?” you play with your fingers, looking down at your feet.

“Absolutely not,” Stu shakes his head.

The two boys don’t want to express their feelings too much, in fear that their true feelings will be real.

Billy does something that surprises Stu, though. Billy puts a hand on your face again, but pulls you close to him, capturing your lips with his. This surprises you too, but you kiss back. He pulls away slowly, a weird look on his face.

“I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later,” Billy whispers, glancing down and not meeting your or Stu’s eyes.

Both Stu and Billy head back inside, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened on Stu’s front porch.

Thankfully, later on, everyone’s feelings were expressed and now the three of you are together happily.

taglist:

@emma-cantmakeuphermind

@the-jess-life

@sssjuico10

@iridescent-idiot

@gh0stfaceh0urs

@marisughh

@ghosttease

@asyamonet22

[teenyweenynightghost]

As lucky as the rainbow

A/n: Im sorry. Also. Special dedication to the love of my life, @cantaraiilmionome , who let me write this fic

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Vic X Fem!Reader

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee​ @shehaddreamstoo​ @tiaamberxx​ @victoriadeangeliswifey​ @bidet-and-legolas​ @makapaka11​ 

My heartbeat was wild and mostly erupting from my chest as the whole world around me seemed to quiet down. The mesh shirt I was wearing was already crumpled from all the times I had fiddled with it nervously. To be honest, could anyone really blame me? I have been obsessed with Måneskin for ages, and I finally get to see them live. A small, really pesky part of my brain kept bugging me. They would have no reason to like or notice you; why are you even here? Well, that definitely did not help the anxious feeling growing in my stomach.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers as four rock stars appeared on the stage.

And oh god what they were wearing. A certain blonde caught my attention, one who I was more than familiar with. Victoria strutted on the stage, her bass strap wrapped around her, as a small corset did nothing to cover her. Two black stripes of tape covered each of her boobs and she looked celestial. It was unfair to everyone else! How could she just look like that!?

“Is everyone ready?” Damiano’s strong voice sounded out of the speakers, earning an excited cheer from everyone.

As they started playing, I realised I was no longer anxious. Moving from side to side and jumping along with them, It felt as If the world stopped temporarily just for me to enjoy this moment. It was truly heaven, and their magnetic presence made it infinitely better.

“Now, for a fan favorite…” Damiano spoke into the mic, soon interrupted by the all too familiar notes of For Your Love. Oh god.

I couldn’t decide who to pay attention to; Ethan’s godly form playing the drums in a way I wished he would play my ass, Thomas’ talented fingers strumming the guitar chords, Damiano fucking the stage while singing or-

Oh.

I was one of the lucky ones who got to sit up front. So my view of Victoria was truly a dream come true. Her eyes were closed as she thrusted into the air, her hips moving with precision and skill, as she moved her head backwards in rhythm with the song. Two of her fingers were plucking the chords, clouding my mind with thoughts of what else she could do with them.

The whole song became a vivid fantasy for me, as I kept watching Victoria play, entranced by her sensuality. The song sadly came to a stop, and Damiano started speaking again. My lovely brain, however, could only gaze at Victoria, her wonderful top and fingers.

As If on cue, she knelt down right at the edge of the stage, and winked at me. Wait, she did what? My brain stopped functioning as I kept staring at her, eyes comically wide and mouth hanging open.

She smirked at my reaction, and motioned for me to come closer with her finger. A bodyguard came and opened the barrier, as I made my way through.

I was right in front of the stage, looking in her icy blue eyes. She leaned down and cupped my cheek, shaking it softly.

“Wanna stay here, cucciola?” She asked,  a sultry smile appearing on her face. I nodded eagerly, causing her to laugh, before returning to her band.

The rest of the concert managed to make me so wet I was convinced my knees would give in the second I would try to walk. Between Victoria grinding on the floor right in front of me, making sure to stare right in my eyes, Damiano jumping in the crowd and grabbing Thomas, as well as Ethan being an overall god-like presence.

It was, however, over, as soon as it started. My face fell as they all waved their goodbyes to the crowd, and I turned around, preparing to leave, but was soon interrupted by a guard.

“Miss De Angelis said that she would like you to go backstage.”

That was the second time the girl’s actions shocked me. I certainly hoped it wouldn’t be the last as I followed the guard to the back.

“Ah, there you are, cucciola!” Her raspy voice exclaimed, as she headed towards me and grabbed my waist, leading me towards a changing room before I could even mutter a word.

“You, I me- mean ...Why? Like… I just thi-I” Damn it, where was my wittiness when I needed it? If I wasn’t already blushing, I probably looked like a sweaty tomato right now.

“Oh darling, I suggest you figure out how to talk, so I’ll know how to please you later.” She murmured in my ear, my knees almost giving up at her words.

“Oh god, umm, I- hi.” I managed to let out. I’m so glad I could ramble about crystals for 3 hours but when It comes to basic greetings my mind just dips. Lovely.

“We have about 15 minutes before we need to leave.” She said, grabbing my body and pulling me right against her, softly nibbling on my neck.

“Considering the way you fucked the stage earlier, I think even 5 would suffice.” Ah yes, my brain was back. Temporarily, though, because Victoria’s hungry lips smashed into mine in a fraction of a second, quickly turning me around so I would be prompted against the wall.

We moved in sync as she sucked every breath out of me and explored my mouth with her tongue. She bit my lip hard, and licked the reddish spot which appeared, before moving onto my neck.

She sucked on every inch of my skin, leaving deep red marks in her wake, which would definitely be an interesting subject of discussion once I got home. I couldn’t help but let out the most pathetic whines, which only seemed to turn Victoria on more.

“So fucking desperate puppy. All I do is dance a little on stage and you’re already willing to be on your knees for me.” She purred right against my breast, earning a deep moan from my treacherous mouth,

“What can I say, I like being a good girl.”

Her mouth bit into the soft skin which was now exposed, as my poor shirt was laying on the floor, discarded seconds ago. I whimpered and bucked my hips into the air, whining even more at the realisation that there was nothing there.

“Please..” I begged, as she kept kissing and licking around my hardened buds, heating me up even more.

“Take your pants off, then” She instructed, and I did it in a heartbeat, the piece of clothing joining my shirt.

The last thing I saw was the blonde’s head lower , before her tongue finally gave me what I wanted. She swiped it deeply inside of me, humming at the liquids pouring from me. Moving to my clit, she started circling around it as one of her long fingers thrusted deep inside of me.

“Fuck… Victoria…” 

She added another finger and quickened her pace, as I rapidly approached my edge. God, no one did it as well as her. She was getting rougher by the second, biting at my thighs and sucking hardly, until she heard my breath catch, before I erupted in a mess of loud moans and screams.

I came hard on her hand as she guided me down to the ground, licking the tears falling from my eyes.

“You really do like being a good girl.” She whispered, cupping my cheek and pressing a soft kiss on my puffy lips.

“Oh I can be bad too.” I smirked, watching as her eyes darkened.”

“How about you return to the hotel with me, and we can explore that talent too…”

***

More than half an hour had passed, and I was sitting in an Uber right next to Victoria. While the band packed up their stuff, I hung out on the stage, eating a popsicle Damiano had given me.

“Do you have to be anywhere early tomorrow?” Victoria’s voice interrupted my thoughts, softly grazing her fingers over my thighs.

“Like I wouldn’t cancel them for you.” I responded, earning a soft chuckle from her.

“Excellent. How about we talk a little then, hmm?” She asked, pulling me closer to her.

“About what?” I asked, clearly thinking of innocent topics.

“Which was your favourite part about how I fucked you backstage.”

Oh. My. God. At this point, my brain had stopped working so many times, I probably had approximately 2 brain cells left. And damn, I answered in a corresponding fashion.

“I must say I enjoyed the talking.” 

Victoria laughed, a devilish grin forming on her face, as I bet her mind filled with the dirtiest ideas.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll make sure we’ll do just enough talking.”

“Wait no- You know, I really liked the cum part too.” I tried to save myself, because let’s be honest, If this woman was anything, it was a tease.

“Considering how loud you were moaning, I bet you were.” She purred again, dragging her fingers further up my thighs.

“Tell me, what did you fantasise about most while watching me play?”

My mind went blank, but not really, as the thought of her grinding on my face while practicing the bass made its way into my head. God, I was royally fucked.

“Tell me, pet.” She snarled against my neck, grabbing it roughly and bending me over.

Her hand wandered down to my ass, grabbing it roughly before slithering back around to my stomach, and pulling me up again.

“Practicing your bass on my face.” I moaned out, red and embarrassed.

“A lovely imagination you have. I’ll make sure to consult it more often.” 

“That won’t work. It seems to go blank around you.” 

Victoria smirked at my confession and pressed me down onto her lap, slowly working her way under my shirt. 

“I really like this. Where did you get it?”

“My mom.”

“She wears this?”

Fuck. “Oh, you meant the shirt?”

Scoffing and rolling her eyes, she pulled the material up, and pressed a wet kiss to both of my breasts. Oh god, this girl would kill me.

“My special thanks to her. And also my apologies, because I’ll fuck you till you scream and cry tonight.”

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[shadyteacup]

Congrats on 300 followers! You really deserve it cuz you're so talented and amazing. Can I request a angst prompt 11 with dazai thank you ❤️

Hola amigo! Thanks sm :D

Here's some sad angst... n no, it doesn't have a fluffy end... :(

Osamu Dazai + “Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it.”

Warnings: Angst, strong language. || Word count: somewhere around 1600, ig..

Get Out

You were an observant person. You were pretty sharp and thoughtful. You weren’t dumb. In fact, you were smarter than the average John or Jane Doe. You never ignored any signs or forewarnings that your brain threw at you. You always reported if something seemed fishy. You have never ignored someone’s wrong doings before.

But then again, there’s a first time for everything.

Sighing, you opened the door for your boyfriend.

“Hey.”

You said as you turned around almost immediately, ignoring his smile. Walking inside, you sat back at your desk, resuming your work.

Dazai stepped in, confused and worried. He had a lot on his mind as of late. He had to maintain a perfect balance between home and work, and it was taking a toll on his wellbeing. He hoped it wasn’t affecting your mental state. Maybe seeing him depressed all the time was lowering your spirits? He dearly hoped that wasn’t the case, for he was trying really hard to relieve his stress before coming home. He tried his best to stay happy and come home with a smile.

He threw his coat on the couch, kicking his shoes off and getting himself a glass of water. He was tired and parched.

As he gulped down the heavenly liquid, he observed you from the corner of his eye. You were staring at the screen, hands frozen above the keyboard. You were thinking about something. It worried him. Your random zone out sessions made him question his behaviour. Was he being rude or mean to you? Was he the cause of your constant worry?

“Y/N?”, he called out to you, trying to get you to snap out of it.

You flinched slightly, peering at him through your lashes.

“Hmm?”

He walked over to hug you from behind, but you got up, effectively avoiding him.

“What’s wrong?”

He furrowed his brows, reaching out to grab onto your sleeve.

You froze at the contact.

“Why don’t you get changed? We can have dinner then.”

Dazai held onto you, determined to get an answer out of you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?”

“I ordered Thai food today. Its from that new restraint around the corner. Riddhi really recommends it.”

“Stop ignoring me. And who’s Riddhi?”

“My friend. You haven’t met her.”

You tried pulling out of his grasp, but he pulled you forward, holding onto both your arms, now.

“Look at me. Y/N.”

You sighed, avoiding his gaze.

“Why don’t you get changed? I’ve picked out a shirt for you. It’s on the bed.”

Dazai was fed up with your aloof behaviour. You had been acting strange and distant for weeks now. Everyday was the same. He would come home to you acting weird, you would ask him to change, and only then would you let him touch you. He was tired of this bullshit. He had tried asking you politely and patiently, but every time you evaded his questions. He was done with beating around the bush.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? What the hell have I even done?!”

He shook you, trying to pry an answer from you.

“Answer me! Tell me! What is it? Whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out. But you must tell me first. You have to speak. Say something!”

You ignored him, looking down at the carpeted floor.

Dazai sighed, letting go of your arms.

“Do you even care about us?”, he asked you.

“Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it”.

You whispered.

Dazai stared at you, confused.

“Of course, you’re enough. Tell me if you care. Do you even love me?”

You stepped back, trying to control your emotions.

“You’re the one going around fucking others. Unlike you, I actually care, Dazai.”

You whispered, afraid to look him in the eye. It had been weeks since you had smelled that perfume on him. It was sweeter than his own but had a musky undertone to it. That, paired with the random marks all over his body, was enough to convince you that he was having an affair. He was smart; he had tried subduing the perfume by carrying his own cologne with him and reapplying it after the deed was done. Whoever he was with probably supported him, as they always bit near the marks you had left. Your marks and their marks coincided.

Only you knew which marks were fresh and which were old. They didn’t know this, and often nipped at partially healed skin, reviving the bruise and giving it a nasty purple hue. That was a clear indication.

What disgusted you is that the person Dazai was sleeping with knew that he was cheating on his partner, and was supporting him by playing along with his plans.

The extra hours were also a clear give away. You had even called Yosano and Kunikida to ensure that the agency had called it a day. Both of them had told you that everyone had left the office, while your boyfriend claimed to be in a client meeting with Kunikida.

It was laughable how incompetent he considered you to be. Did he really think his half assed attempts at covering up would fool you?

“What the hell are you saying-”

“Don’t act dumb. I’m not stupid, you know that.”

Dazai continued his act, hoping to prove you wrong by putting it all on you.

“I’m a loyal partner, Y/N. Just because I’ve been having more work load lately, doesn’t mean you go around assuming shit about me. I honestly thought you were better than this.”

You sighed, finally meeting his gaze.

The dead look in them proved to him that he was caught. He could not do anything to fool you. You knew.

“It started three weeks ago, on Monday. You went to work at eight, came home around eleven. Work hours end at 6. You were smelling different. It was distinct. You never wear perfumes that have a sweet undertone.”

You stared at him dead in the eye, shutting him up with your gaze. He would not dare to come up with stupid excuses. Not with you looking at him like that.

“You had a hickey on your neck, on a spot that I hadn’t covered. You tried covering it up with makeup, but it wore off pretty quick. Ever since then, you have been visiting your secret friend daily. I’m guessing you go at least three rounds, since you come home so tired.”

“That’s just disgusting!”

“I thought so too. But it does tire you, doesn’t it? That’s the reason you come home so worn out. You go around having sex, and you’ve been trying to hide it from me for three weeks now. Tell me I’m wrong.”

His lack of reaction and the look of guilt plastered all over his face was as loud as a confession.

“Whoever it is, is blonde.”

He looked at you shocked.

“How-”

“I found strands all over your coat.”

He rubbed his forehead with his palm.

“You like them, don’t you? Its not just physical, is it?”

You asked with a sad smile.

“How do you know all this?”, he asked, devastated at the fact that you knew everything going on.

“I know you too well. I actually paid attention to our relationship. I cared.”

He ran a hand through his messy locks. He had been so stressed lately, he had to find an outlet. He wasn’t one to stay in any relationship for long, but he actually cared about you. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, which is why is never broke up with you. He was bored of the thing you both shared, but he knew that you cared. So, he pretended to be equally invested.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Because I wanted to continue this thing for as long as I could. But not anymore. I’m done.”

He widened his eyes at you. He had not expected you to end this. He might have been bored, but he still cared for you. He loved you. He didn’t want to let go yet.

“Y/N, we can work this out. Please don’t leave.”

He begged you, trying to come closer to you. You stepped back.

“Please don’t. I can’t handle your smell. That scent repels me.”

He gasped, finally realising why you didn’t let him touch you.

“The perfume is a constant reminder of my...”

“Yeah.”

“And you tolerated all that, for so long. All for us.”

You nodded, turning away.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. Thanks to your intense questioning, I’m finally free.”

“It doesn’t have to end, Y/N! We can work this out!”

“No, we can’t. I’m not enough for your boredom, and I’m not willing to become someone else just to please you.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please don’t- ”

You smiled bitterly at him, before opening the door of your apartment, signalling to him.

“Get out, and only come back to get your stuff. Goodbye, Osamu.”

This story features one of my close friends, Riddhi. I had fallen short of names to use n though why not write about an actual friend? She's not on tumblr, unfortunately. Damn I miss going out with her... anyways, hope u liked it! N sorry for the rant :p

[startanewdream]

I would love a number 3 Jily from the kissing prompt list.

Also sorry I ordered this like I'm at a fast food restaurant 😂

Hiiii! Considering how long it took me to answer it, it was not fast at all!

Thanks for this prompt! I thought a lot how to fill the idea of a Jily enemies-to-lovers kiss because I thought by the time they shared kisses they would be a lot more friends... then I messed a bit with canon and found this way. Hope you enjoyed it!

Set during their Fifth Year.

Read on AO3 or below:

Seven minutes in heaven

Sirius holds his chin languidly as he considers Peter’s question.

‘Three,’ is his answer, unashamed and not pretentious in a way that James can’t help but feel jealous.

Three .

Sirius kissed three people already and James has never kissed anyone.

It shouldn’t be a competition, because he doesn’t compete with Sirius — for most of the things they are equal, their grades always so close that for a while the professors thought they had to be cheating in exams.

But Sirius kissed three people and he doesn’t even notice all the stares he gets. It doesn’t seem fair.

I’m better than him at Quidditch , James tries to tell himself, but somehow this thought doesn’t bring him any satisfaction. While he was scoring goals, Sirius was scoring something else and though it’s not a competition he can’t help but think he is losing .

The bottle spins again and again and James eyes it with uneasiness. He will pick dare if the bottle points at him, because he always chooses dare on principle, but this time he knows he just doesn’t want anyone to ask how many people he has kissed before.

But the bottle stops at Lily Evans, who watches carefully the person at the other end before saying: ‘Dare.’

Mary grins mischievously. ‘I dare you to tell me who is the most gorgeous bloke in our year.’

James almost rolls his eyes at that, because everyone always says it’s Sirius so it’s not even an interesting question; but to his surprise, Evans just shakes her head, looking flustered.

‘No, that’s against the rules. You can’t ask a question in a dare.’

‘You are no fun, Lily,’ Mary answers, and James feels like this is some inside joke between them; he wonders what's the discussion about who Evans thinks it's gorgeous. ‘Fine, I dare you to try seven minutes in heaven.’

‘You can’t involve anyone else in a dare —’

‘I am not choosing anyone now . You’ll wait there until the next dare.’

Evans seems to consider this before she nods, grimacing, obviously not happy. The rest just watches Evans and Mary; they were the ones that came with that muggle game for animating that chilly October Friday night, and they are the ones that decide the rules.

‘If you are picked, I’ll be spending those seven minutes turning your life into hell,’ Evans warns Mary, her voice amiably, and James almost smiles. Sometimes Evans is funny. ‘The first broom closet to the right, okay?’

Mary nods.

‘What’s seven minutes in hell?,’ Remus asks, curious, watching Evans leaving the Common Room. James feels a little impressed; there are only fifteen minutes until curfew, and for good-girl Lily Evans to risk a detention, she must really take the game seriously.

‘In heaven,’ Mary corrects, grinning. ‘It’s a dare where two people spend seven minutes together in a room. Or in this case, the first broom closet to the right leaving the Common Room.’

‘And what do people do then?’

‘You’ll see if you pick dare,’ Mary answers genially. She indicates the bottle to Remus. ‘Spin it?’

Remus does, but now he is blushing. James looks around; Sirius doesn’t look particularly excited, but Peter has the flushed expression on his face, a little dreamy, and James knows he is far away. Or rather his thoughts are in the broom closet next to the Common Room.

Seven minutes in heaven with Evans ? James tries to imagine it, but he can’t, not really. It wouldn’t be heaven ; she would fulfill her promise of making it a hell, because he and Evans don’t really get along. She gets annoyed with every little thing he and his friends do, never cracking a smile and, most of all, always sticking with her annoying Slytherin friend. Snivellus . There is no way that seven minutes with Evans could ever be fun…

‘James?’

He blinks, coming back to reality. Sirius is looking at him with an innocent expression that doesn’t fit him.

‘What?’

‘I asked, truth or dare?’

‘Dare,’ answers James without thinking, because he can’t risk saying truth ( no, I have never kissed anyone, I’m a failure, ok? ), before he realizes what this means.

And then everyone is smirking at him, knowing looks on their faces that makes James want to flush, except James Potter doesn’t get embarrassed. Not in public. Not evidently. He has an image to uphold.

‘Go on, then, James,’ says Sirius, indicating the portrait. ‘I dare you to spend seven minutes with Evans. Heaven or hell, it’s up to you.’

The girls giggle, and James raises quietly, pretending it’s everyday that he gets to be in a broom closet with a girl, that this is very normal for him. He grins as smugly as he can, but the smile vanishes as soon as he turns his back to him.

Seven minutes in a broom closet with a girl . Not any girl. Lily Evans, really?

And then as he is leaving, he hears Mary’s whisper: ‘Maybe Lily will finally kiss someone, you think?’

Hmm, James considers. So Evans has never kissed anyone either?

He thinks about it; it’s not like he has paid attention to Evans so far, but he knows she has been on a date before. He may have heard something about her meeting the Hufflepuff prefect in the last Hogsmeade weekend, but that was not a thought that had bothered him.

But if he’d think about Lily Evans in a way that he had never really thought before, what would he think? Well, James is not immune to girls , not at all, but it’s just he never looked at Evans because he should feel attracted to someone who is nice to him, right? Like Emme Vance; she winked at him after the first game of the season, and he’d felt something warm inside him. If only he had not been distracted by a comment from Sirius, then he’d have gone talk to her and then his never-kiss-anyone problem would have already been fixed…

But since this is a problem he apparently shares with Evans, maybe, just maybe, they can solve it together?

It’s not a bad idea, he thinks, and when he opens the door of the broom closet, for a split second, he considers that it’s a great idea. Now he is positively considering Lily Evans as someone kissable, for the first time he really notices the thing he may already have noticed about her before, but disconsidered only because he and Evans don’t get along.

And the things is that Evans is a girl and James likes girls. And she is pretty, with her long auburn hair that falls on her shoulders, that fair skin that seems so soft, her full pink lips, and her green eyes that seem to shine under the light coming from the open door. Then his eyes fall to her chest, to the curves that weren't there in the 11-year-old Evans he remembers annoying since their First Year, and, yes, Evans is a girl and James likes girls and his body has a sudden urge to remind him of this.

He looks hastily at her eyes, hoping she didn’t notice where he was staring and trying to look nice and very kissable too; but the first words that come out of Evans’ mouth are not encouraging.

‘Oh, it’s you .’

Her contempt is nearly enough to make him regret everything he thought, but his stupid teenage body isn’t always on the same page as his mind.

He closes the door, only the dim light of the lamp above them illuminating the small closet.

‘Let me guess,’ he begins, looking for the way to most annoy her. It’s a favourite pastime of his and much easier than dealing with his sudden… attraction… to her. ‘You wished it was Sirius .’

She raises her eyebrows, not impressed. ‘I was hoping it was Mary,’ she says without any shame. ‘I had planned to transform one of these buckets into a rat, she hates them.’

‘You weren’t kidding with those seven minutes in hell, were you?’

‘It’s her fault for picking the worst dare,’ Evans says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. ‘Seven minutes in heaven , as if.’

His annoyance flares up. He still thinks Evans is gorgeous, especially with the way she crosses her arms under her chest, highlighting some curves very beautifully, but they don’t get along and they never will.

‘Your friends seem to think you’d take advantage of those seven minutes,’ he says, smirking, watching her eyes narrow in what it’s her favourite expression for him. He adores pissing her off. ‘Never kissed anyone, Evans?’

She blushes, a pinkness colouring her cheeks in the most charming way and James wants to touch her face, feel his cold hands burning with the warmth of her skin.

No, stop it , he shouldn’t want to touch her. He doesn’t stand her. And vice versa.

‘Don’t talk about you don’t know, Potter,’ she tells him angrily, but it’s just the same anger that James would use if the situation was reversed and he knows he hit a nerve.

‘What, been kissing Snivellus?’

‘Don’t call him that,’ she answers immediately. ‘And we are just friends, stop being creepy.’

‘But would you consider kissing his mouth? ‘Cause that’s creepy, Evans.’

‘I said we are only friends. You might try someday.’

‘I have friends,’ James says smugly, and Evans rolls eyes, but doesn’t reply. ‘If you never kissed anyone, what did you and Smith do last Hogsmeade weekend? Held hands like you were twelve?’

She searches her pocket for her wand, but it’s not there, so Evans throws him a look that would curse him if she had this power.

‘It’s none of your business, Potter. And I haven’t seen you having any dates to talk about my life!’

It’s true, but James can’t let her know that. ‘Oh, noticing if I have dates, Evans? What, you were jealous ?’

He takes a step closer to her, enjoying the way she just looks more nervous. That’s something more familiar for him, annoying Evans, and it’s much more comfortable to deal with, especially because if he is not concentrating, he would notice how she smells very nice.

And James is not thinking about that, of course.

‘I would be sorry for anyone who has to endure a date with you,’ she answers evenly. ‘Trust me, these seven minutes are taking way too long — imagine a full day.’

‘One might think you were imagining a full day with me, Evans.’

‘Only if I was in a nightmare.’

‘So I do appear in your dreams.’

‘Nightmares,’ she repeats, her eyes pure steel as she glares at him; James should notice the warning that look gives (he shouldn’t push her too much ), but for once he can only think on how green her eyes are, like the Forbidden Forest at night.

And he enjoys too much walking in the Forbidden Forest.

‘Maybe if you had a date with someone else you’d stop wondering about my dates,’ she declares, hissing. ‘Do you know what I imagine, Potter? You never had any date.’

‘I have,’ he lies easily, his hand running absently through his hair. ‘Just because I don’t go showing off about it —’

‘You? Not showing off? When was the last time you did something and didn’t brag about it?’

‘A gentleman does not show off,’ he says, which is something his father told him once but James didn’t think about it until now.

‘If you were a gentleman,’ she replies, a knowing smirk on her face that tells her she knows she hit a nerve with him too. Evans knows he never kissed anyone, and he can see her smugness about it, and if she tells anyone — Merlin, if she tells Snivellus he will never survive it…

‘Do you know what I imagine , Evans?’, he says, throwing her words back at her desperately. ‘That Smith kissed you and you were horrible at it.’

Her flushes intensifies, but if it’s shame or anger, James can’t know. She uncrosses her arms, coming closer, finger pointing at him menacingly.

‘He didn’t — you don’t know what you are talking about!’

‘I bet you don’t know how to snog.’

‘I can kiss just fine , Potter!’, she replies angrily (it’s anger after all, James realizes) and then she does the last thing James really imagined she would do.

She presses her lips against his.

And for two seconds, that’s all they do, really; he doesn’t know what’s keeping her immobile, and he almost asks if her brain has just turned to jelly too, because that’s what’s happening to him.

And then, in the fogness of his numb mind, other things emerge quietly. Her perfume, so close now that it’s more powerful than any other smell in the closet; the warmth of her skin, very different from that cold night; the green in her open eyes as she stares at him, as in shock as he feels, before the eyes are closed, stopping him from reading her emotions; and the sweetness of her lips, a hint of caramel that he suddenly wishes he can taste properly.

His eyes close and, in the darkness, all he can feel is Lily Evans.

They take a step closer in a synchrony that James knows they never had before, and then Evans’ hands are holding his arm and James holds her face. He moves his lips very tentatively, wanting to share more of that (whatever that is), and Evans raises on her tiptoes, her lips parting just the slightest. He feels her breath — it’s the butterbeer, a part of his mind realizes as if he should already know — and suddenly he wants to taste the drink too in her mouth.

(Is it possible to get drunk on a non-alcoholic drink? Because he feels intoxicated).

His tongue touches her lips, again tentatively (he has no idea what he’s doing, but so far things seem right), and she parts her lips even more, allowing him in. James has another moment of panic ( what is he supposed to do now? ), but then Evans’ tongue meet his and this feels right too.

Not just right. It sends shivers down his spine, it makes the world spins around him as if he is afloat and the only thing connecting to Earth is Evans’ lips and the way they move and Merlin why hasn’t he ever kissed Evans before ? He feels disconnected, as if he is watching them kissing from above, and James nearly laughs at the idea that he is snogging Lily Evans in a broom closet, that’s so unlikely — didn’t they hate each other?…

Then she breaks apart, jumping violently backwards, a look of terror on her face, and when James opens his eyes he sees that along with that kiss Evans was sharing the same thoughts as him.

She was in a broom closet snogging James Potter .

He breathes hard, urging air to fill his lungs; apparently kissing stops his natural reaction of breathing — though not other reactions. His body seems to be working overtime, judging by the way his heart is beating too fast in his chest.

Evans is out of breath too; he sees her chest rising and falling fast — then Evans notices his stares and she crosses her arms protectively, recovering faster than him.

‘I told you I could kiss,’ she says, voice full of dignity and he envies her for that.

James couldn’t form a sentence if his life depended on it.

‘You will not tell this to anyone,’ she adds, eyes narrowed again in what used to be James' favourite expression. Now he isn't sure. ‘I — I will deny it if anyone asks, so you will just look like a liar.’ She watches him. ‘Potter?’

‘Okay,’ he whispers, though he is not sure what he just agreed to. His brain is still not functioning properly.

‘Let’s go,’ she says, walking past him and opening the door, leaving just a hint of her perfume in the air.

He follows her, more on instinct than anything, surprised with the fact that he can walk .

People cheer when they enter the Common Room and James steals a glance at Evans. She looks normal, undisturbed, not at all like she has just shared a kiss with James that he… that he really wants to repeat.

‘You still have two minutes!,’ Mary notices, shaking her head disapprovingly at Evans, who just shrugs.

‘Two more minutes and one of us might not leave there alive,’ she says casually, sitting next to Mary.

‘James?,’ Sirius calls him, watching him closely, and James forces a smile upon his face.

‘Evans is right. One of us might not survive.’

They laugh, and James thinks he handled it well, half-truth as it is; everyone knows they don’t get along, he and Evans, they never had, and yet…

The bottle spins again, and now Remus is struggling to say who was his first crush, but James is not listening, not really paying attention to the game. His lips are still tingling, that lingering taste of butterbeer on his mouth, and he can’t help but steal glances at Evans — next time, he thinks feverish, he will let his hands (that stayed reprovingly still ) touch her face, hold her closer. Next time he will kiss her neck, will hear her sigh into his lips.

He will know what to do next time, he promises, but Evans never once looks in his direction.

The bottle stops pointing at her and it’s James turns to ask.

‘Truth or dare, Evans?,’ he asks, his voice sounding nicer than he ever talked to her before, while his hand runs through his hair nervously. His smile is confident, because Evans has to share that urge too, right?

But Evans eyes him as if she’d rather look at anything else and her voice is nearly dismayed when she calls ‘Dare’.

James doesn’t hesitate. ‘I dare you to go out with me, Evans.’

People whistle, but Evans doesn’t look amused. ‘It’s against the rules involving others in a dare, Potter,’ she tells him, coldly, raising. ‘And I think I’m done with this stupid game.’

She leaves the Common Room, and Mary throws a confused look at James before following her friend. Sirius looks at James with a baffled expression.

‘You stayed with her for five minutes and decided to ask her out? What happened there?’

‘Nothing,’ James says at ease. ‘I just realized Evans isn’t so bad.’

It’s a simple way of putting it, but despite what Evans may think about him, James will keep his word; that kiss (his first kiss) will remain between them only.