#sigh. im accomplishing things. unfortunately...

[orcelito]

I'm doing soooo amazing (weeping) like so great and cool (crying) feeling amazing (sleep deprived)

I finally got a load of dishes done though. This, at least, is worth celebrating.

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby (blurb)

The Final Straw

Warnings: verbal argument, angst, smut (oral receiving and giving, P in V) buckle up bc this is an emotional rollercoaster.”

“You’re so rude!”

“And you’re selfish!”

You scoffed, “Im selfish because I don’t think you need to make a speech?”

“It’s a congratulatory speech.” Auston clarified, “on behalf of the team-“

“The only people that need to make a speech are Justin and Ryan.” You cut him off placing your hands on your hips, “The owners of the company.”

Drew House was turning 5 and Justin’s mom had the idea to put together a party to celebrate the accomplishment. She wanted it to be big and filled with Justin’s friends, family, and the things he loved the most.

So she planned a few different meetings for everyone to get together which unfortunately for you included Auston you flew to LA specifically for this.

“So I can’t make a speech, but you get to sing a song?”

“Do you want us all to sit in silence the whole night?”

“Dj’s have a job for a reason.” Auston crossed his arms over his chest. “And they can play actual good songs.”

On any other day Auston’s jab about your music wouldn’t bother you. You deemed him useless and untalented musically speaking. But today, the comment put you over the edge.

You took a deep breath before calmly responding “Hire whoever you want Auston, I don’t care.”

Your cold tone, took Auston back. He didn’t expect you to switch it up so quickly. And only two outcomes were plausible now. The argument ends here or you were about to go off.

Auston knew this was a fragile moment and how he responded would determine the outcome. He should’ve just silently agreed or even gave into your idea, but he was stubborn and good at self sabotaging.

“You do care.” He pointed out, “If you didn’t you would’ve shut up at the beginning of this discussion and let me be in charge.”

And that was enough for your deep breaths and the counting method your therapist taught you to avoid outbursts to be forgotten.

“You know what Auston, no asked you to be in charge because they know you suck at it.” You’re voice rose with every word, “If you were good at being in charge you would have a winning team, but you don’t.” The venom in your words were no competition for the fury that filled your eyes, “The only reason you are relevant enough to even be sitting here is because Justin loves hockey. It’s not because you encouraged him to build the brand, or supported him every step of the way, or put in money for it to be successful.” You listed off what the others in the room, Justin’s friends and family, had done do ensure his success. “You’ve done nothing, but show up and ruin things, so you can sit down and shut up, because no one here cares about what you think.”

“Is that why you wrote a song about me.” Auston challenged, “because you don’t care about what I think?”

Your mouth went dry and your throat felt like it was beginning to close up. You swallowed thickly, refusing to let the tears that so badly wanted to come out make an appearance. This couldn’t be happening. Despite the release of your new single you told no one who it was about, now Auston just did that for you.

“That’s it. I’m done.” Your chair squeaked as you abruptly stood from it. “Auston, go fuck your self, Scooter, I quite.”

You stormed out of the room the door slamming behind you. The table fell silent following your exit, no one knowing what to say or do.”

“Go get her.” Scooter, Justin’s manager sighed rubbing his face.

“No, we don’t need her, especially if she doesn’t want to be here.” Auston sat back in his chair crossing his arms.

“She was one of the most important people sitting at this table. Scooter paused, “Go. Get. Her.”

“She’s a big girl, she made her choice. And now you want me to chase after her?”

“I don’t care if you have to get down on your knees and beg for her forgiveness, she better be sitting at this table tomorrow.” He finalized standing up himself, the discussion was over.

Auston didn’t follow you immediately, his pride too strong. He waited until the evening when he had no choice but to fix things. There was less than 12 hours until everyone would meet again.

He reluctantly drove to your apartment after getting the address and penthouse number from Hailey.

Auston tapped his hands on his legs waiting for the elevator to arrive at the top floor. He could think of a million things he would rather do than apologize to you, but his friendship meant more than his dislike toward you.

Following your show in Arizona, Auston made it his mission to push down any type of feelings he had for you. The two of you together would be complicated and that was something he couldn’t deal with, not at the start of the season.

Between the time he knocked on the door and you answering, he debated just leaving, but he didn’t have the time to do that once you answered. Auston couldn’t keep his eyes from wondering down your body at the short cotton shorts that hugged your hips and the cropped tank top that dipped down to show cleavage. His thoughts were only interrupted by your voice.

“Can I help you.”

“Ummm yeah,” he stammered forgetting what he had planned to say eyes still focused on the way you leaned against the doorway, one arm holding open the door as the other rested on your hip. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” You showed no emotion, but didn’t miss the way he had yet to look you in the eyes.

“This afternoon.” Auston finally looked up meeting your eyes with his own. “Saying those things.”

“Yeah, that’s sounds really sincere.”

“Can you please just let me in so we can actually talk?” Auston huffed annoyed that you were holding your ground.

You rolled your eyes but stepped to the side to allow him in. You closed the door and walked past him to the couch in the center of the room. “Okay, start apologizing.”

Auston sighed sitting on the wooden coffee table across from the couch. “Listen, (y/n), I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and,” he sighed again frustrated at the lack of words coming to mind, “and I’m just really sorry.”

“Wow, that was more pathetic than the first attempt.” You crossed your arms, “but I’m not surprised considering you never apologize for anything. This is probably a lot for you, trying to use words with more than one syllable.”

“You done?”

“No.” You shook your head sitting up straight. “It’s one thing for you to not like me, but embarrassing me like that when you know that song was vulnerable for me, was just mean.”

There was lots of gossip surrounding the song you revealed at your show. Later that night you released the recorded version and the next morning it was everywhere. The discussion about who it could be about was a hot topic, everyone wanted to know, but no one did. Even when your best friends asked who it was about you brushed it off saying it wasn’t about anyone specific it was just a concept you thought of.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“You never think!” You shouted, “you just say things and do things without thinking about the consequences.”

“I apologized what else do you want from me?” Auston shouted back throwing his arms in the air.

“Nothing.” You stood up and stormed toward the door and holding it open. “Get the fuck out.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You. You’re my problem. Now leave.”

“Im not leaving until we figure this out.” Auston responded not looking at you and refusing to stand.

“You don’t get to decide when this conversation is over. You are apologizing to me.”

“Then fucking accept my apology if you want me to leave.”

“No. Your “apology” was terrible.” You put air quotes around the word apology allowing the door to close in the process.

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“Fine, then I’m calling security.” You announced attempting to make your way to the phone on the side table by the couch, but Auston blocked your path.

“Move.” You threatened trying to push past him, but Auston wouldn’t budge.

“Will you just…stop being so fucking difficult?” Auston held onto your arms to try and keep you in place.

“No.” You pulled your arms back with a surprising amount of strength, but Auston got to the phone before you could and threw it across the room.

“What the hell is your problem?” You reiterated his question from earlier.

“You. You’re my problem.” His voice came out strained.

Both of you stood chest to chest breathing heavily. Auston looked down at you, he wanted to walk away but he couldn’t. Watching you so worked up, breathless from arguing and cheeks red. You looked so pretty, and you were standing so close, and he was so turned on. So he didn’t think, he just acted as he leaned down, one hand placed on your neck and kissed you.

You wish you say your initial reaction was to pull away, but it wasn’t. You sank into the kiss like you had been waiting for years for it. Your fingers clasped together around his neck as his free hand found a home on your hip.

You kissed for a long time taking turns opening your mouths wider giving the other person more access, neither of you coming up for air. Auston sat down on the couch, pulling you down with him. You kissed down his neck as you straddled his waist. Auston’s hands rubbed up and down your back under your tank top as you continued working down his neck and back up nipping at his earlobe. He tugged lifting your tank top over your head and tossing it in the corner.

“Fuck.” He groaned noticing that you decided to not wear a bra with it leaving your bare chest in front of him. Auston dipped down to kiss the valley between your breast before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned at the attention he gave them.

“You drive me crazy.” You whined raking your fingers through his hair.

“The feelings mutual.” He mumbled coming up from your chest and planting a kiss on your lips. You only broke the kiss to remove his shirt and then your hands were back on his body as his lips were back on yours.

“Stand up.” Auston demanded nudging you his knee. You did as told and watched as Auston got down on his knees in front of you without breaking eye contact. He couldn’t help but chuckling thinking back to what Scooter said about getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness. Watching the way your legs clenched looking at him, Auston knew he would get on his knees for you whenever you wanted.

You knew this was all wrong. You hated him and he hated you, but watching him hook his fingers in your panties and sliding them down your legs, that was right.

Auston placed kisses along your inner thighs before he tapped your leg “separate them.”

You couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips as Auston’s tongue met your clit. You latched your fingers back into his hair and attempted to steady yourself. Auston held you firm as he continued to lick and suck like he had been walking in the desert for days and you were his first sip of water.

Your legs only became weaker as you felt him slip two fingers inside of you. They pumped at a rapid pace and you began falling apart around them.

“Aus, I-“ you started but couldn’t finish as you moaned loudly. The combination of his tongue and his fingers had you closing your eyes and seeing stars as you came calling out his name.

“I know, baby, I got you.” He reassured picking you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Auston placed you down as he stood at the foot of the bed.

“You out on quite the performance earlier.” You watched as he reached for his belt. “Calling me a bad leader, screaming about how I’ve ruined things.” He slowly removed his belt and unzipped his pants. “And my favorite,” he smirked climbing onto the bed. “Telling me to sit down and shut up.”

Auston leaned back into the pillows and placed clasped his hands together behind his head.

“I’m going to do that now and I want you to suck my dick until I’m whimpering like you just were.” You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to that statement.

“C’mon baby, I know how much you love performing.” He smirked down at you as you crawled between his legs, “put on a show for me.”

You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking more of him into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and went down on him until he was touching the back of your throat.

“Keep doing that.” He encouraged as you used your right hand to twist and stroke the part you couldn’t fit. You let your mouth and hand move in a rhythmic motion.

“Just like that.” Auston panted eyes shut tightly.

“Open your eyes.” You moved him out of your mouth to make the request. Auston continued to breathe deeply eyes still shut. “I won’t continue until you open them.” You threatened waiting for him to look down at you.

“Good.” You said satisfied as he looked down. You hummed around him taking him further down your throat. It wasn’t long until Auston was grinding his teeth together to keep himself from finishing.

“I want to be inside of you.” He said pushing gently on your shoulder to stop you. Auston flipped you over so he was back on top. After stroking himself a few times he aligned himself with you.

“Absolutely not.” You grabbed his wrist. “Put a condom on, I don’t know who you’ve stuck that in.”

Auston chuckled reaching into the bedside table, while kissing your neck “it feels better without it.” His breath was hot against your ear and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you rethink.

“I don’t care. I’m not catching something from you, that would make this whole situation even more embarrassing.”

“Oh, baby, there’s nothing embarrassing about how good I’m going to make you feel.” Auston slid the condom on like you asked before thrusting into you. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist wanting him as deep as possible. Auston dipped down kissing you roughly as he worked his hips into yours.

You two moved in synch, like you’ve done this before. As his hips went down, yours went up to meet in the middle, hitting the perfect angle.

“Tell me you want me.” His request was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

“I do.” You reassured him, knowing your mind was made up in the living room that this was what you wanted.

“No. I want to hear you say it.” His voice was strained as he rested his face in your neck.

“I want you, Auston.” Your words seemed to encourage him as he picked up the pace.

“You’ve had a funny way of showing you wanted me.”

“Says the guy who called me overrated.”

“Says the girl who called me selfish and arrogant.”

“Says the guy who made me cry and exposed to everyone that I wrote a song about him.

Auston stopped moving his hips for a moment and met your eyes seriously, “you cried?”

“Im sensitive.” You shrugged ��Plus I got an awesome song out of it, which is doing really well on the charts. So, ya know….it worked out.”

“Look at me.” Auston grabbed your chin to bring your eyes back to him, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever.” You brushed off the apology with a wave of your hand.

“No, (y/n),” There was something earnest in Auston’s eyes, a mixture of pleading but also reassurance “I’m, so sorry for hurting you like that.”

“I know.” You reassured him placing a hand on his cheek and brushing his hair out of his face gently. He may have been the one apologizing but you wanted to comfort him, reassure him that you truly forgave him, for all of it.

The moment felt intimate, romantic even and that was too much for Auston. It was one thing for him to fuck you, but a whole different thing if you thought it was anything more than that.

If there was one thing you agreed on it was that you both had very busy schedules and that you both were too selfish with your time to commit to something serious. The last thing either of you needed was love.

“Flip over.” He instructed

“Huh?” You looked up at him, and unlike the moment before Auston looked away.

“I want to take you from behind.” Auston watched as a look of hurt crossed your face, but it was only for a moment before you were doing as you were told.

Auston slipped himself into you again and began moving like before. He found the perfect pace again and had you screaming his name within minutes. He gave you a minute before he started back up. He wanted you to cum again. Partly because he wanted to make up for being such an asshole but a bigger part of him wanted to do it out of pride. He wanted you to think about this night when you were alone and touching yourself. And he definitely wanted you to think about it, if you tried being with another guy.

Watching you come undone a second time had Auston quickly following. You didn’t let him pull you back into his chest or hold you close before you were up and going to the bathroom.

“Don’t get too comfortable you definitely aren’t staying the night.” You tossed over your shoulder.

Right before closing the door is when you heard his response, “I didn’t plan on it.”

He made it clear that this was casual. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that him making you turn around didn’t hurt, but you understood it. Returning from the bathroom, you watched as Auston redressed himself as you did the same.

You walked him back through the living room and to your door.

“We don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” His look of fake confusion only lasted a moment before he was smiling and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, no one will find out.”

“Goodnight Auston .”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[raainberry]

Chocolate Heart

« A strong, sweet love. »

Dahyun x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - confessing to your crush on valentines day very rarely goes as planned anyway

wordcount - 3K

T/W - Food, young love, crushes all that good valentine’s stuff, soft cuss word

A/N - shoutout @saiiidahyunee its as long as it took for me to write about Dahyun im so sorry💀

“Congratulations!”

The cheerful word caused you nothing but chills and fright. You blinked at the two class presidents standing before you, grinning as though disturbing your nap was the most fun thing in the world.

“For what?” You mumbled half asleep. Unless you were out for months, it wasn’t your birthday yet. Neither had you accomplished anything worth celebrating.

“For possibly going on a date in the next few weeks!” One of them cheered once more while the other revealed a pen and paper from behind her back.

“What?”

The girl ignored the utter confusion on your face and shoved the pen into your hand before sliding the paper accross the table you were so comfortably napping on a minute ago.

“Do you have a crush?” Her co-president asked, and you could tell his tone went beyond the required professionalism. Just plain nosy.

You sighed as you finally realized what this ambush was about: the whole Valentines Day love campaign your school loved to put up every year in order to help fund whatever was in need.

The concept itself was fun and harmless: class presidents chasing their classmates down the halls, offering to confess to your crush for you in exchange of a couple bucks.

Deal of the year for a lot of high-schoolers, and it wasn’t even done badly. The whole thing was cute; a fresh, red rose they delivered anonymously on your behalf on D-Day. While they filled the school’s pockets, you got to see your crush smile at least once thanks to you. To a young teenager foolishly in love, the sight was priceless.

Even if you drew the shortest end of the deal—a.k.a your crush not giving a damn—they’d never know who it was from anyway. Saved you a lot of embarrassment, which in all honesty was just as priceless.

“No, I don’t have a crush.” You answered him, and the way his features noticeably fell was particularly satisfying.

“Do you now? Don’t you think we’re a little too old not to notice these things?” The girl wiped the small smirk off your lips and you blinked. “We’ve been in the same classroom all week for four years, we’ve seen the way you treat the new girl.”

The seat suddenly felt uncomfortable underneath your legs. “What does that even mean—I don’t treat her any different than I do you guys.” You chuckled, nerves unfortunately too clear for the guy not to revive his own hope.

“Sure you don’t.” The girl smiled, the pull at her lips borderline fake. “But you haven’t walked any of us home yet, have you?”

You shifted in your seat once more. “We happen to live in the same neighborhood. If you’re jealous just say that.”

The girl’s smile seemed to falter for a second, dropping only to stretch itself wider and brighter than before. You caught her clutching the small stack of paper tighter against her chest, causing you to knit your eyebrows together.

You weren’t oblivious. At least not more than she claimed herself to be. You had your fair share of secret admirers across the years, a few roses sent your way; but it was no secret that you never pulled on any of the strings thrown your way by the bravest of them.

“As if.” She shrugged off and you nodded, appreciating how she stuck to her role.

There was never any want nor need on your end. A relationship was never an idea on your mind, but it doesn’t mean you couldn’t and didn’t have a harmless thing for someone here and there.

All unrequited, as per the majority of high-school love, but you managed to find the fun of it. Silly jokes and random eye-contact rushes were satisfying enough.

Until she came along.

“Anyway—”

“So do you like her or not?” The boy cut her off, saving you both from an uncomfortable moment only to send the three of you into a silence of that same nature.

You hoped your lack of answers would get them off your back, but the longer it lasted, the more it proved their suspicions to be right.

You could see the delight on the boy’s features grow as much as the frown on the girl’s. You ignored the latter for as long as it took for her to cover it up before she tapped the paper in front of you.

“It’s our last year.” She spoke up. Her voice was softer than you were used to. It caught you off guard. “You might regret not participating at least once.”

Whatever, you thought, looking down at all the names already written down. Might as well, she won’t know anyway.

You gripped the pen, following your hand as your fingers painted the name of the girl you’d come to care so much about.

Kim Dahyun - Senior Class B

“Here.” You slammed the pen against the table. “Happy?”

“The two dollars.”

You looked up at them and sighed once more.

“Kind of a scam but okay…” You mumbled, reaching into your pockets for the remaining change of your allowance.

The bill was inconvenient. Sure it wasn’t much, but when you’ve been cut off for the next two months because of a silly prank… Might as well say you’d bet your whole fortune on this crush. It sounded cool anyway. Your grandkids would eat this up.

—

Valentine came around quick, and you spent all day watching people receive roses in all corners of the school.

Young love filled the air, time was nothing if not stuck in this carefree atmosphere roaming with still naive and hopeful spirits. As much as you would have liked to be cool about it all, you weren’t an exception. You couldn’t help but wonder whether Dahyun had received hers or not.

Maybe in sixty years you’ll probably laugh at the memory, but in the moment it didn’t feel half as funny.

From eight in the morning, all you could do was stress over whether she’d accept it or not. Would she even like it? If she had, did she smile as brightly as you wanted her to? Had it made her as happy as you hoped? Granted she wouldn’t know who it was from, but you hoped the gesture would actually make her smile. Your heart couldn’t stay still in your chest, eager yet nervous to see her.

You waited all day to see her, looking out at every corner of each room and hallway you walked in for a glimpse of her pretty, dark and long hair, fair skin, and cute nose appreciating whatever scent was left of that cheap flower.

By 4pm, she was still nowhere to be seen. Was she avoiding you? Did she even get that dang flower?

The bell rung the end of your last classes for the day, and you took out your frustrations out on your poor locker. You hadn’t opened its door this aggressively since you got detention for sleeping in class. Something very infuriating in failing at what you usually master.

Whatever, at least you helped the school.

You got your bag off your shoulder, glancing inside the locker for your books only to find… a rose? Had she sent it back to you?

You winced at the thought, the pinch in your heart taking you by surprise.

So this is heartbreak…, you sighed reaching for the flower. If that wasn’t painful enough, one of the thorns poked your finger and you almost laughed at life’s comedic timing.

You watched the small wound on your skin as it reddened slowly. It’ll heal fast enough. Couldn’t say the same for the one in your chest though.

This was the stupidest idea ever, why did you even give in to their pressure…

You wiped your finger on your shirt, a small stain you’d come to regret later but held very little importance in your eyes when a small card fell to the ground.

The book you’d grabbed felt heavier with each second you took to identify where it had come from. The only logical answer was your locker, but how had you not noticed it?

Shoving the homework material in your bag, you bent down to pick it up before closing your locker. Your eyes were glued to the writing on the folded paper, widening as all sense suddenly hit you.

Your name… the careful and precise calligraphy… The rose… It was her.

Maybe she hadn’t given the flower back to you. Or maybe she did, but her gesture meant something entirely different.

Your fingers were hesitant on the card’s edges, grazing and ghosting papercuts as you gathered enough strength and composure to open it.

You pulled out what you had rightly guessed as a letter, handwritten by the cutest of them all. Your eyes were eager at the thought of unveiling her thoughts, brushing past every single one of her words before finding the ones you wanted to see the most.

« I hope you actually like me, Y/n. You’ll regret it if you don’t. »

Okay, maybe this wasn’t the way you’d wanted them, but it was enough to pull a giggle out of you. It was a running joke, it was known across the school how no one should mess with her. Rumors of her song at the talent show being about an ex, those did a great job at spreading the word. Whether or not they were true, her songwriting was good enough of a threat for anyone who might have dared to.

Judging on the speed of your heart alone, she had nothing to worry about in that regard. Her written confession had you a mess, you couldn’t wait to meet her for more.

You wanted to hear her say all those things to you. How she liked your eyes whenever they were on her. How she liked your smile whenever you tried to see hers. How she liked your laugh whenever you tried to hear hers. How she fell for you and could only hope you’d catch her.

You were soon running through the streets, rose in hand as you ran past people, leaving bits and pieces of that love and hope behind for the nosiest of them.

You sprinted to the nearest park, the one you usually parted ways at on your way home from school. Why didn’t she wait for you today? It would have saved you the extra gym class.

“Dahyun!” You yelled, way too loud for the remaining distance separating you from her, but at least you caught her attention.

The way she turned around… You could have tripped at how beautiful it all was; the scenery that drew itself around her.

The grass looked beautiful, fresh and green at her feet as if her standing there only did the opposite of killing it. The sky, the clouds, the sun all indecisive over the weather, like her presence was enough to throw them off balance. Only the wind seemed to stand its ground, carrying those dark strands of hers as gently as it could. A present for you, offering you a chance to picture her perfect charm in your mind.

It was an instant, she turned to answer your call and faced you with eyes as sweet as ever while your lungs fought to keep themselves and yourself alive a little longer. Breathtaking had just taken a whole new meaning.

You could only hope it felt as cinematic on her end, but the way she laughed into the wind, carrying the sound all the way to your ears as you ran towards her significantly reduced that hope by at least 50%.

Oh, well. At least you made her smile.

“Is this yours?” You asked, holding up the rose as you slowed down, finally close enough to her.

You waited for her answer, breathless as you took great care in stopping before bumping into her. You made sure to leave enough space in between the two of you, but the air that filled it was suddenly heavy with anticipation.

“No.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. There went that pinch in your chest again. This wasn’t something you wanted to get used to. “What?”

“I think it’s yours.” She said, pulling out another one from her back. “This one’s mine.”

“Wh—Huh?” You grimaced, eyebrows furrowing together as you glanced back and forth between the two roses. “Then what’s this?”

“I guess someone has a crush on you.” She said, her voice soft. You barely heard it, but the slight loss of light in her eyes was enough to make you piece it together.

She wasn’t joking around. She really wasn’t the one who’d put that rose your locker.

“Oh.” A nervous chuckle escaped you as you glanced at the rose. You had an idea as to who it was from, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You weren’t going to let this ugly miscommunication ruin your chances. “Well, here. Two for one.”

You handed her the rose in hopes of bringing back the glow that suited her features so well. It was never too long until you managed to do so, and this time was no exception.

“Are you seriously recycling someone’s love right now?” She chuckled and you shrugged. You actually were thinking of it as a proof of only having eyes for her, but alas…

“You’re never too green for the planet.” You joked out of habit. “It’s the least I can do to thank her for these beautiful flowers.”

“For the planet.” She nodded, grabbing the stem carefully as to not hit any of its thorns. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, and the heavy air turned awkward.

You eyed the space in between, making out every single unspoken word in the short yet frightening distance. Both of you were aware of them now, yet neither dared to cross it.

“Why didn’t you buy me one?” You asked, suddenly curious. If she had planned to confess today of all days, it only seemed logical for her to do so.

“I did. Just not the ones from school.” She said, bringing up the small gift bag she’d been holding on all this time.

Your face lit up and you stepped forward to look inside, something that made Dahyun’s heart pick up the pace. “Oh my gosh, you did!”

How lovely was your smile from up close. Overwhelmingly so. “I made you some chocolates too.” She mumbled as you struggled to keep still.

“No way!” You held onto the baby sized rose in your hand, digging inside the bag with the other to pull the small box at the bottom. “You didn’t…”

Dahyun only nodded, hiding herself behind the sudden need to tell you all about the day she’d spent planning her small confession.

You smiled all the way down to your heart, listening to every one of her words. She’d spent a whole afternoon in the kitchen to make sure everything came out perfect. Her evening was spent writing out her feelings for you, erasing and rewriting every word as she tried to find the right ones only to spend her night tossing and turning in her sheets, nervous and excited about sharing it all with you today.

“Dahyun they’re so good, thank you so much.” You hummed as you tasted one of her chocolates. “Did you have some?”

Dahyun only giggled, glancing down at the ground to avoid your playful ones. It never lasted too long though, only a second as she couldn’t fight the way her eyes were so easily drawn to you.

“Here have one.” You offered, holding what seemed to be a dark chocolate one to her lips. “Come on.” You insisted when you noticed she was hesitant, which only lead you to a playful fight as she resisted you trying to feed it to her. “Please enjoy it! You did all this for me, and I only got you a cheap flower, how does that make me look?”

“I don’t know.” She laughed as your hold on her loosened, defeated. “I mean…”

You cleared your throat at the sudden feeling of your arm around her waist.

“Right now you’re looking very pretty.”

Maybe it was the proximity that reassured her; that gave her enough confidence to confess those thoughts of you. How close you were to her, it felt as though you could only catch her if she jumped that distance.

So she did. She jumped, but failed to close it. Her lips were still and shy near your own, so you brought a hand up to her chin, guiding her towards the smile she’d caused.

Again, it was only an instant. A soft press of your lips, capturing each other’s in a gentle and warm feeling you discovered for the first time together.

It was funny, how she could taste the sweet chocolate on your lips despite herself. And not to pat her own back, but she did a great job.

It was addicting.

Or was it your lips? She couldn’t quite tell just yet, but surely she’ll have time to figure that out.

“So you knew?” You grinned, unable to hold back the happiness you felt.

Dahyun nodded, pressing her lips together as a sign of nerves still high. “Did you know too? About me?”

“Well, I definitely do now.” You chuckled, pulling away to hold her card up, still smiling at the words it contained. She blushed at the same thoughts. “You’re a very talented writer, Dahyun. You make me sound much better than I actually am.”

You joked yet again, suddenly remembering your beloved “class-clown” title. You weren’t exactly proud of it, but you did take pride in bringing joy into this class. That’s what made you so popular, what allowed you to break out of your own shell and make friends with about anyone.

“No. That’s just how good you are to me.”

You took care in making sure no one was ever left behind, especially the quiet and smart ones like Dahyun—often despite themselves—by pulling everyone and anyone into your banter.

As the new kid, Dahyun purposely sought a lack of attention. She kept to herself, but you caught her laughing along with everyone. Maybe that’s exactly what caught your attention at first, and you were surprised she didn’t push you away the first time you approached her.

That’s what usually happens when an academic ace and a class clown are paired together.

“Glad my efforts didn’t go unnoticed.”

“I mean, it was hard not to notice them…”

[lovebunnie]

i couldnt get anything really accomplished for this weeks prompt (clothes sharing, “i know what that smile means”, fav relationship other than hawktim) so instead im just posting all the snippets i started and didnt finish and will probably never finish <3

made for the ft valentines week by @fellow-travelers-events

It was not often that Marcus and Tim would have a night out with just the two of them. They were individuals as such that their circumstances did not usually permit those outings; Marcus was known to spend most of his time with Frankie at the club, and Tim was practically Hawkins’ shadow whenever he was let off the leash.

Marcus did not think it was his place to tell Hawk how to go about his affairs, but when he found Tim by himself one night at the Cozy Corner, he decided it was his duty to let him know what it meant to get involved with Hawkins.

Tim was sat at the bar, head propped up by one hand with the other lazily drawing patterns in the condensation on his glass. Marcus noticed the drink was half empty.

“Mind if I sit?” Marcus asked as he walked beside Tim.

After a fleeting look, Tim relaxed and allowed his shoulders to slump back down. “Yea, sure.” After a moment, his gaze did a double take. “Marcus?”

“Hey Tim, didn’t expect to see you here by yourself.” Marcus waved down a not-Frankie bartender and ordered his usual.

“I needed some space,” Tim replied sourly.

“Not a lot of people would think of a bar as a place to go for space.”

“It was either this or church.”

Marcus chuckled softly. He enjoyed Tim’s company and was fond of his wide eye naïveté, it made him a refreshing conversation partner as opposed to the seasoned politicians he was used to.

Tim’s fingers stopped and he let out a sigh not unlike an old but loyal dog. “He hasn’t called me and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Did you hope you’d catch him here?” Marcus asked.

“Not hoped…” Tim said. “More like dreaded.”

———

It was Mary who was the first to notice.

Hawk should have known better than to think he could extract himself from Tim’s arms at a normal time this morning. Seeing his Skippy sick as a dog and moping around the apartment left him feeling more clingy; he even told Tim to forget trying to survive in his dingy little place and to start healing at his place instead. Tim’s eyes had widened and his jaw dropped a bit, and Hawk could get used to a sight like that.

The fact that Hawk was getting this much enjoyment out of Tim’s sickness should have felt wrong, but he couldn’t deny the joy of having Tim near. Hawk made him dinners and got him medicine, he got to bundle Tim in his arms while in bed and fall asleep intertwined like vines. It felt right, sharing his space with Tim.

Unfortunately, when spaces mix, however, things tended to get confused in the shuffle. Case in point: Hawk was wearing Tim’s hat.

They had very similar hats, admittedly. Almost every man worth anything in DC had a wide brimmed hat in their closet almost assuredly bought from the same store. Men’s fashion among his peers, Hawk felt, could stand a refresh.

But the fact of the matter was that Hawk walked into his office wearing Tim’s hat on his head, and Mary was the first one to notice. Or atleast, the first one brave enough to mention it directly.

“Good morning Miss Johnson, Miss Addison,” Hawk said upon opening the door.

“Good morning Mr. Fuller,” Miss Addison chirped. “I had your mail placed on your desk for you to look through.”

Hawk gave her a fleeting smile and shifted his gaze to Mary, who was not looking him in the eye. “Miss Johnson?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Yes sir, Mr. Fuller. I just remembered I had a question about your 3 pm meeting.” She gestured to his office, and Hawk held the door open for her to enter first. Following behind, he closed the door on Miss Addison’s jealous expression, mouth pinched in displeasure.

“Are you okay?” Hawk asked her as he began to take his coat off.

“You’re wearing Tim’s hat,” she replied.

It made him stop. Mary’s eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Hawk could not recognize, one that he was unused to seeing on her face.

Slowly, Hawk took the hat off from the top of his head and felt the brim, noticing the subtle shade difference. It was absolutely not a hat Hawk owned; the crudely scribbled “TL” on the inside was proof enough.

Hawk gently turned the hat around in his hands. This morning he had been in such a rush to get to work that he stumbled through the morning routine. Haphazardly, Hawk had grabbed his things and the idea that his fingers felt right in taking Tim’s hat, as though it was interchangeable with his own, gave him pause.

“I know what that smile means.”

He looked up to Mary’s gentle face. He hadn’t even been aware he had been smiling. “The one that means that this color doesn’t go with my tie?”

“The one that tells me where he is right now, who’s sheets he is currently warming.”

“A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

She arched her eyebrow. “The clock reads 8:09 to you too, right?”

“It’s just a hat, Mary.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not. And you know it.”

———

Marcus was tired of hospitals.

It was a sunny day when Marcus stepped through sliding doors and into the familiar corridors. It was early in the morning and even though he had class to teach later, Marcus made sure to carve out time in his day to visit friends.

After years of watching peers fall ill, if he never had to step foot in front of a receptionist office to sign a form requesting visitation access, it would be too soon. The day the nurse greeted him by name felt like an inevitable failure of some sort; helpless in the face of tragedy, no matter how many articles he published.

Frankie told him to keep the word going, to not let the death toll make his efforts feel useless. Their time together had allowed Marcus to grow softer around the edges, no longer ready to bolt. Frankie made him want to settle, to stay. He felt kept.

As Marcus cuddled him in the nights and held him close to his chest, he counted the breaths until he convinced himself Frankie was safe. He didn’t need to write novels about how paralyzing it was to think about one day losing Frankie, he didn’t need any words at all. As the days went on, Marcus found himself with more and more words to speak, a thought in his head he had to dispel. Too many years passed where he bit his tongue and now they were crawling back up his throat.

When Marcus got the news about Tim, he and Frankie ate dinner silently, once again not needing words.

Because it hurt more than anything. Over the years, he and Frankie had gotten to know much more about Tim other than his previous political endeavors and their shared history with Hawkins. There was a spitfire beneath his tender heart, righteous fury at injustice that made him close friends with Frankie. He was invited to dinner frequently and was unofficially given the title of godfather to Jerome, Tim felt more like family than his own father.

Tim was a good person, even when the world had not been kind to him. It made the news of the diagnosis hit that much harder.

“Tim called,” Frankie had said once Marcus walked through the door and hung his hat up. One look at his face and that was all that was needed.

Watching Tim slowly get worse and worse was utter agony because Tim was never one to take things lying down. He did his work from a hospital bed even when Frankie had to rip a pen from his cold hands.

“Come on, it will only take a second-“

“Tim, it's never just a second with you.”

“This is my job, I can’t just not work!”

“I’ll call the office and request a sick day for you.”

It was a sunny day when Marcus walked down the halls before work. It had been a few days since Hawk had called and showed up in San Francisco. No one expected him to stay and they certainly did not expect him to take on the caretaking role.

Marcus had known Hawk too long to be subjective about him. Hawk was selfish and a liar, he made a mess out of nice things to sate his own appetite. He saw right through his attempts at deception.

This meant that Marcus knew Hawk loved Tim before even Hawk was aware. The polygraph may have sealed the deal, but the looks he gave to Tim when he wasn’t looking were not exactly subtle.

[riotwritesthings]

Any Time, Every Time

Kodiak/Ambrose, T, 1.5k - T, 1.5k - Fluff, Humor, Confessions, Missing Scene, slight angst, banter

two boys in space, a confession of things already known, and a promise for any future that may come

That’s right it’s fanfic of The Darkness Outside Us. because I literally could not stop myself.

When does this take place? You know, on the ship. Somewhere in space. But we're just trying to have a nice dinner and not think about that.

Let's just say if you haven't read the book, probably do that first. Plz. It's so good and everyone deserves an untainted read haha

(also, IM SORRY this isn't anything you were probably expecting. but THIS BOOK YALL I couldn't stop, read it maybe because I cannot be in this pain alone.)

-

“I’m in love with you,” Kodiak declares one day, completely out of the blue.

Ambrose nearly spits sans serif water all over the place. When he turns to the other boy, still coughing, he’s somehow unsurprised to find that Kodiak has an almost sullen look on his face, jaw clenched stubbornly.

Ambrose opens his mouth and then shuts it again. “What?“ He finally croaks.

“I’m in love with you,” Kodiak repeats, just as flatly as the first time. This time he also raises one eyebrow, which means he’s questioning Ambrose’s supposed intelligence.

”What?“ Ambrose finds himself saying again, and maybe he isn’t as smart as he always thought.

Because it’s not really a surprise, is it?

They’ve both known this was coming, they’ve known it for weeks. They heard the same message, like a prophecy, and it’s hard to deny something said in their own voices, said by them. Not that Ambrose has tried, why would he? The sad truth is love is all he’s ever wanted, after all, and he’s felt it happening. He’s felt it growing in his own chest, familiar and new and huge, terrifying to put a name to even though he already knows.

Actually hearing it, though, hearing that he’s loved and believing it, threatens to knock loose something brittle and sharp in his chest. Ambrose finds that he can’t say a thing in response, he can’t even catch his breath to try.

Kodiak sighs heavily, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ”It’s the only explanation,“ he says dryly and leans across the table to take the leaking water pouch from Ambrose’s numb hand.

”Oh,“ Ambrose says slowly, his heart racing. He finds a smile spreading across his face, so wide it almost hurts, ”You ran all the data, did you?“

”I did,“ Kodiak agrees, ”and unfortunately I came to the same conclusion every time.“

“That was a joke,” Ambrose accuses and his voice still comes out weirdly breathless, awed.

”I do not joke,“ Kodiak insists for the hundredth time, “Now who is being evasive?”

That startles a shaking laugh out of him because Kodiak is right. He’s usually the one reminding himself 'vulnerability, Ambrose’, and trying to drag Kodiak along with him, and when did his shipmate get so brave? Ambrose’s heart feels too big for his chest, so full that it’s hard to breathe around.

“So you ran the data,” he says encouragingly because there’s no way he’s letting Kodiak stop, now.

“Yes,” Kodiak says, squaring his shoulders like this is another mission he’s determined to accomplish. “You are confusing and unbearable, and I am very in love with you.”

”You-“ Ambrose laughs, emotion clogging his throat again, ”You’re supposed to say nice things.“

“You are perfect,” Kodiak shoots back instantly, still with that stubborn set to his jaw even though there’s a flush rising in his pale cheeks. “You’re smart, kind, beautiful, you are nothing like I could have expected, and you are perfect.”

“Oh,” Ambrose says again and then blinks rapidly, telling himself that his eyes aren’t wet.

“Considering the data,” Kodiak continues, rolling his eyes and clearly trying to fight down a grin before he abruptly goes serious, “And considering our situation… I feel confident to say that I will love you for the rest of my life. Until we lose to the dangers of space or our murderous OS.”

“I would not murder you,” the OS says, but Ambrose ignores it. The ship is currently using the Devon Munjaba voice-skin, because he wanted to annoy Kodiak earlier, and it’s easier to tune out than his mother’s voice.

“And after that,” Kodiak says, his voice gone quiet and rough as he mentions the thing they don’t mention, “I will love you then, too.”

Ambrose has to choke down a sob that rises suddenly in his chest because they don’t talk about this. But he knows it’s true, if they…

If there’s a next time, when they’re them-but-not-them, Kodiak will love him. Kodiak will argue with him and piss him off, Kodiak will make him laugh and keep him sane. Kodiak will see him and love him. And Ambrose-

“I- I love you too, you know,” he stutters out quickly when he realizes that he hasn’t said it yet.

“Of course,” Kodiak says, puffing up his chest proudly and lifting one strong arm to flex the muscle. Ambrose laughs and he immediately deflates again, grinning, but there’s insecurity in the curl of his shoulders.

“I’m in love with you, Kodiak Celius,” Ambrose says again, meeting Kodiak’s gaze steadily to try and make sure he knows it. “I don’t have to run the data, I love you.“

”Sloppy work,“ Kodiak accuses, but his voice is thick and Ambrose won’t be deterred.

”Even if I didn’t know it, I would love you,” he promises, ”and on this ship, that’s one of the few things I’m sure of.“

Kodiak is starting to look a little panicky, like this is too much for his stoic sensibilities. He’s popping his knuckles beneath the table, Ambrose recognizes the motion of it, so he decides to have a little mercy.

“Even if you do drive me a little crazy,” he adds with a fond smile, “and even if you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“No I’m not,” Kodiak says, stubbornly, and Ambrose grins wider.

“You’re annoying,” he informs Kodiak happily, “and I love you.”

“You’re going to be more unbearable now,” Kodiak says with a sigh.

“But you love me.”

“But I love you,” Kodiak agrees, ducking his chin, but that doesn’t hide his wide smile or the flush across the bridge of his nose.

Kodiak returns to scooping noodles out of his food pouch, apparently satisfied that his conversational mission is accomplished. Ambrose follows his lead and they finish eating in a warm, comfortable silence. Although it is kind of hard to chew when Ambrose can’t stop grinning.

When he finishes Kodiak tips his chair back and stretches his arms up above his head with a deep, happy sigh. He smirks at Ambrose openly watching him do it, then as he drops his arms he smiles sweetly and asks, “Can I have some tea, please?”

“You know how to make tea by now, I know you do,” Ambrose points out, pretending he’s very busy scooping up the last remains of his food.

“Yes, but I like the way you make it,” Kodiak says shamelessly.

“You’re going soft on me,” Ambrose accuses, narrowing his eyes, but still pushes himself up from the table and moves towards the cabinets. He waits a couple of seconds while Kodiak makes exaggerated offended noises, then adds, “And I love you.”

Behind him, Kodiak lets out a loud groan of complaint that fades into a soft laugh. Ambrose smiles into the selection of tea.

Later, laying on the couch, something occurs to him.

They’re ignoring the OS’s occasional, pointed comments about the task list to instead watch more old reels that Kodiak hasn’t seen and gets way too into. Ambrose is fully expecting to be questioned about the motives of every single character later. Kodiak’s head is pillowed on his stomach, one hand stretched up to rest over his heart, and Ambrose is so full of love that he could burst.

He has to put it into words. He has to say something more, something important, meaningful. He has the words, he can feel them bubbling up his throat and making his chest tight.

He considers not saying it, keeping it just for himself. Just his and Minerva’s. But she’s… she’s gone. They’re gone, Titan far behind them, it’s just the two of them and Kodiak deserves to know.

“As long as I’m alive, someone loves you,” Ambrose says softly, thinking back to the promise that was made to him all those years ago. How much it meant, how much it kept him going.

Kodiak doesn’t respond, but Ambrose can feel it when his breath catches slightly and his grip on Ambrose’s shirt tightens. His eyes are bright where they’re still fixed on the reel, clearly not seeing a thing, and Ambrose buries his fingers in Kodiak’s soft hair.

“Any time I’m alive, someone loves you,” he adds in a whisper, soft enough that they can pretend the OS can’t hear them.

A soft, hurt sound escapes Kodiak and he turns his face down against Ambrose’s stomach, clutching at him tighter. “Every time,” he promises, his breath warm and shaking against Ambrose’s skin through his shirt.

When the reel is over Kodiad does have about a dozen questions about the logistics of the talking animals. He asks them all with his chin resting on Ambrose’s chest, grinning up at him, and Ambrose does his best to answer.

”Once again, you are putting way too much thought into this,“ he finally says with a laugh that bounces Kodiak slightly in place, ”and I love you.“

”And you’re not putting enough,“ Kodiak shoots back, eyes shining, ”but I love you anyways.“

[lurkingshan]

The Night/Day issue was pretty glossed over as well, no real acknowledgment or apology to each other. I fear ep 9 was the last good episode, that ending was so strong. The remaining episodes seems like its going to pale in comparison. Even if the eye donation doesn't work, (which i think it wont) it seems like a redundant plot arc. Day has already accepted his blindness, so why do we need to see him and everyone else cry again when the procedure doesn't work? Im guessing they are just doing it for forced cheap drama, which is unfortunate. We could have had more Mhok devoted episodes because his life isnt perfect, its like they made him too much of a green flag with Day and are scared to show his struggles and flaws at all now. Sigh.

You know, the Night and Day scene didn't bother me on initial watch, because it do be like that sometimes with siblings. You can fight and torment each other for weeks or months or years and then one day just decide to stop and carry on like it never happened. And it's rare for siblings to get deep into the muck on apologies; it's a different kind of relationship that allows you to gloss over some of that work.

That said, when taking it as part of the whole and the many other things this show is glossing over, it is definitely part of the broader pattern. And you're not wrong about the redundant nature of the eye donation plot. We just saw Day arrive at acceptance so beautifully at the end of episode 9, so to bring this back around only an episode later kind of undercuts what the show accomplished with that arc. I suspect that the surgery (hopefully) failing will be more about pushing Day's mom to accept reality than it will be about Day, but I was not at all impressed with how they handled her material this ep so I can't say I'm really looking forward to more next week.

[yoon-kooks]

how many | jjk | 2

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 4k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: no smut yet but things are getting a little physical;;; im 90% sure there will be smut in the next part so hang in there yall!

◆ the one you found by the duck pond ◆

As much as you love your job, there are times when it becomes rather unpleasant. In most cases, it’s just a Karen client being unreasonable or someone urging you to hurry up because they can’t handle the pain. Those situations might be annoying, but they aren’t bad enough to ruin your mood once you’ve stepped foot outside of your parlor.

It takes a lot for you to be genuinely bothered or hurt by someone else, but that’s exactly what happened to you during your last appointment of the day. After all, it feels pretty shitty when a fellow tattoo artist you admire turns out to be a condescending asshole who calls your art “decent for a pretty face.”

You absolutely hate when people think they can judge you and make assumptions based on your appearance—especially when those assumptions involve your art. That asshole might never figure it out, but your pretty face has nothing to do with what you’ve accomplished with your art.

And unfortunately for you, that asshole’s comment still lingers in your head as you walk into class the next morning. Part of you worries that other artists might share the same sentiment and not take you or your art seriously. That’s probably why you’ve avoided making friends with anyone in your art class aside from Jeon Jungkook.

In fact, the thought of seeing Jungkook is the only thing keeping you from screaming your frustrations into the void this early in the morning. He’s one of the few people you feel like you can trust and be your quirky self around, and you find comfort in knowing it’s just been you and him making art across from each other for the past few weeks.

So it comes as a surprise to you when you walk into the classroom and see more than just Jungkook gathered around your table. Four other classmates somehow migrated from their original table on the other side of the classroom, and now they’re chatting away with Jungkook as if they’ve all known each other since grade school. Meanwhile, you don’t even know any of their names aside from Kim Taehyung, a popular face on campus who fully embraces the influencer life.

Taehyung and the others are too engaged in their conversation about skincare sponsorships to notice you slipping into your seat. As discreet as you are, Jungkook politely backs out from the lively conversation and watches as you pull your essentials out of your bag one by one—your sketchbook, your pencils, and an empty coffee mug that you swore you filled before leaving the apartment.

As soon as you hear the hollow clunk against the desk, you shove your mug back into your bag with an internal sigh. It’s fine. You don’t really need caffeine in your system anyway. But it would’ve cheered you up just a little.

Jungkook takes a sip of his own coffee before sliding it into your hands. It’s still warm and full, and you bet the boy has excellent taste in caffeinated beverages. The tiny sip you take is just right—not too sweet, not too bitter. And if the name written on the cup wasn’t “Kook,” you probably would’ve downed the whole thing in one go. Instead, you slide it back to the boy across from you.

“Have the rest,” he says, blocking you from pushing the cup any closer to his side of the desk. “Didn’t you say you like lattes?”

“Yeah, but—”

You’re interrupted by a phone screen sliding right between you and Jungkook. It has a picture of a fresh-faced Taehyung holding up a bottle of micellar water with “#ad” as the caption.

“Hey, let’s exchange IGs,” says the influencer. You assume he’s talking to Jungkook specifically, but then he turns to you. “What’s your handle?”

“@Y/NsArtCorner… But I don’t really post much.” You pull out your phone and give Taehyung a follow, just to show that you’re a good sport about this whole social media thing. He has about as big of a following as Jungkook. The only difference is that Taehyung shamelessly asks for follows from anyone he meets.

“That’s fine,” Taehyung says as he follows you back and scrolls through the few posts that you have. “Your art is stunning, by the way.”

“Thanks.” You don’t really know what else to say to him so you take some more sips of Jungkook’s latte.

Taehyung’s eyes trace the details and precision in your artwork. “Have you ever considered doing those Youtube videos where they speed draw real-life objects as if they’re sitting on the page? I feel like you’d get a lot of views.”

You shake your head. Again, you don’t have anything else to add aside from answering the question.

“Wait, I mentioned those same exact videos when I first saw Y/N’s art,” Jungkook says, high-fiving the other boy. He really makes social interactions look easy, and it’s a small reminder that your friendly interactions with him might not be as special as you’d like to believe. A guy like him could make anyone feel like a close friend of his. Perhaps you’re not the only person he’s shared his latte with or designed a bunny tattoo for.

But that’s the charm you’ve fallen for.

The rest of art class goes by slower than usual. You and Jungkook exchange few words with the other folks around, but you notice he stops to stare every once in a while as you fill your page with art. And when you catch him in the act, he casually gets back to work with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.

After class, Jungkook waits as you zip up your bag, but so does Taehyung along with his other friends at your table.

“Hey, we’re grabbing some food at that new ramen place across from campus if you two wanna join,” Taehyung offers. As good as ramen sounds, you don’t think you can endure another hour of two-word conversations between you and that friend group. You don’t dislike them or anything, but it’s hard for you to feel like you belong with them the way Jungkook does so naturally.

“No thanks, we already have plans,” Jungkook says as he turns to you. You quickly nod in agreement with the boy’s little fib.

As soon as Taehyung’s group has exited the room, you sling your bag over your shoulder and say, “We have plans?”

“That depends.” Jungkook starts walking out the door, and you follow like a lost duckling. “Are you free?”

“Well, I do have a tattoo appointment later tonight,” you say, double-checking your phone to make sure you have at least a few hours of free time before then. Thankfully you do, because you still aren’t ready to go back to the place where certain clients fail to respect the art you create. “But I’m free until then.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s the design like?” Jungkook raises his eyebrow, not entirely buying your story. In his defense, you make it sound as though you’re the one getting the tattoo rather than doing the inking.

“It’s a lizard.” The actual design is a small alligator, but close enough. “Kind of dark and spooky, like if a lizard met a vampire.”

Jungkook looks up into space with a puzzled expression. “I’m trying to visualize it, but all I’m seeing is a crocodile,” he laughs.

“Yeah, but lizards are tinier and cuter.” You put your hands on your hips as if the two of you are having a heated debate over reptiles.

“I’m glad to see you’re back to being your weirdo self.” Jungkook gives you a flirty nudge with his elbow before holding his hand out for you to take. Usually, you’d hesitate and wonder if you’re misinterpreting a boy’s attempt at an affectionate gesture until he awkwardly pulls away. But it’s different with Jungkook.

Gravity doesn’t waste a second in pulling your hand to his until your fingers are interlaced. Physical contact might not be a new thing between you and him, but that doesn’t mean his warm touch ever gets old. In fact, it only makes you want it more.

“You were so quiet earlier. Was it because of Taehyung and the others?” he asks, pulling you along to who knows where. You figured Jungkook had noticed something was off about you during class, but you didn’t really expect him to bring it up.

“Um, yeah. I’m not really good with talking in group settings. Especially with people I’m not close to,” you explain. You wouldn’t blame Jungkook if he couldn’t understand where you’re coming from. “It’s kinda just a me-thing.”

He nods. “You must be pretty close to me if you’re getting all sassy about lizards.” It’s true. You could never see yourself going on about cute little lizards to just anybody—not your other classmates, clients, or even family. He gives your hand a squeeze and says, “I’m honored that other people don’t get to see the Y/N that I get to see.”

He’s earned it, though. You only act the way you do around him because he makes you feel right at home, wherever you are with him. He’s become your #1 source of comfort and the perfect remedy to a bad morning, and you just want to make him smile the way he does so easily for you.

“Good to know. I’ll be sure to save all the weird stuff for when it’s just you and me.” You grin from ear to ear as the two of you exit the art building. Jungkook pulls you down the same path you’d normally take if you were headed home on your own. Funny how the same road can lead to so many different possibilities when you’ve got someone else by your side. “So where are we going exactly?” you ask.

“Somewhere I think you’ll like.” His voice is almost a whisper, as if he doesn’t want you to hear it in the event that you don’t actually like the place he specifically chose with you in mind.

“Oh? You know what I like?” You search his eyes for answers, or at least a hint. That’s a mistake on your end, of course, because all you’re doing is getting yourself lost in that dangerously beautiful smile of his.

“Well, you like art, you like stealing lattes, you apparently like tiny lizards, and you might even like a handsome guy named Jeon Jungkook.” His eyes shift to the pavement when he says that last bit, but he forgets to hide his grin. He might be the only boy in the world who can make arrogance look adorable.

“Never heard of him,” you shrug. Teasing Jungkook has become a new favorite hobby of yours, but it’s hard to deny your fondness for him when you continue to hold his hand like it’s the most natural thing to do.

He’s got a hold on you, just like you have on him.

After walking down a lot of familiar roads decorated in street art, Jungkook leads you around a corner to your favorite duck pond just a few blocks from your apartment. Between the calm waters, the rustling of the cattails, and the occasional quack, this pond is the perfect place to escape to when you start to get sick of seeing the walls in your room. You’ve lost track of how many @snowsleeve originals were designed right in this very spot.

Jungkook was right. This is a place that you like a lot.

“I was in the area a few days ago for a touch-up, and I didn’t expect such a calm and quiet place to be hiding right behind the bold and bright art district.” Jungkook points at the trail of ducklings following their mother at the center of the pond. You can’t resist the urge to ooh and ahh at the sight of any baby animal. “Is it weird that I spent that whole afternoon staring at the ducks swimming around?”

“A little bit,” you chuckle, even though that’s exactly what the two of you are currently doing. “But I’m guilty of doing that before too.”

“Shit, you’ve been here before?” The boy sounds disappointed. Perhaps he’s wondering if another guy had already shown this secluded place to you—if you stood in this same exact spot and held hands with someone that wasn’t him.

“You know I live really close to here, right?” you say, pointing in the general direction of your home and referencing the fact that he’s given you a ride home on a few occasions. It’s convenient since your tattoo parlor is among several others in the heart of the art district. School, work, this pond—everything is within walking distance for you, and yet that hasn’t stopped you from taking Jungkook up on his offers to drive you home. “I come here a lot to sketch when I need a change of scenery. No one else is ever around, so you and I might be the only two people who know about it.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” he says, pressing a finger against his parted lips. It draws attention to the hoop around his lower lip. Great, now you’re distracted by its little gleam.

“Did this hurt?” You point to the spot on your lower lip that mirrors Jungkook’s lip piercing.

“It wasn’t as bad as you’d think.” He tugs on the ring and laughs when you cringe at the thought of that ever being ripped out. “But it definitely hurt more than a tattoo there.”

“Wait, you have a lip tattoo?” You lean in to examine Jungkook’s lip more closely as if you’d be able to see anything without pressing his lip down. Unfortunately for you, all you see are his plump lips that you may or may not want to feel pressed against yours. And the mere thought of the tiniest peck is enough to keep you on your toes.

“Maybe.” The boy waits politely for a moment as you eyefuck his lips. Then he returns to his regularly scheduled programming aka teasing you because it’s funny to him. “Why? Are lip tattoos a big turn-on for you?”

“No.” Yes, yes they are. But Jungkook doesn’t need to know that. “I’m just trying to make sure I count each and every one of your tattoos, remember?”

“Right, right,” he nods. “How many have you counted so far?”

Based on your calculations, he has 6 on his hand, somewhere between 10 and 15 in his sleeve (exact number tbd), and the band around his other bicep that you spotted at the gym. You crave to know how many more he might be hiding.

“At least 17,” you say.

Jungkook puts on his best poker face, and you’re unable to tell if your guess is even remotely close to the total across his entire body. A second later, he pulls his lower lip down just enough for you to read the words “fuck it” across the glossy surface. That might just be the most minimalistic tattoo he has, but it’s cute and to the point.

“So if you count this one, you’re at 18? That number sounds a bit low…” There’s a hint of suggestiveness in his tone. He wants you to keep searching, no matter how far you have to go to track them all down.

Without realizing it, the two of you wandered off from the duck pond and back into the district where thousands of tattoos have been brought to life in the flesh. In fact, you’re about a block and a half away from your parlor, where you remember you need to be later. You’d normally be pissed if your client made a last-minute cancelation, but you’re almost hoping they do today.

“Oh, that’s the place where I got my touch-up.” Jungkook points to a few buildings up ahead. “Yugyeom specializes in lips and takes walk-ins. Just saying.”

“No thanks, I think one appointment is enough for today.” You chase the brief thought out of your mind. You wouldn’t have even considered a lip tattoo for a second if it didn’t look so damn good on Jungkook.

Jungkook tilts his head at you with curiosity painted all over his face. “I still can’t tell if you’re being serious or just fucking with me about that lizard tattoo.”

“Maybe you’ll find it on me next time… or maybe you won’t.” Your shrug and cute little smirk get Jungkook to simultaneously laugh and groan out in frustration—the exact reaction you were aiming for. Isn’t that the point of this intimate game between you and him?

“Man, you’re making me want to get a new one now.” The boy lifts his arms and scouts out a vacant spot for some new ink. If you were to give him a tattoo, you wonder where it would go.

“You should try contacting @snowsleeve,” you suggest. “Maybe it’s easier to get an appointment than you think.”

Jungkook stops midstep. “Wait, is she the one you have an appointment with today?”

“No.” You give him a look as if he’s the weird one. As soon as he finishes his step, you start dragging him in the direction of your apartment. “But if you want her bad enough, I think you could make it happen.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook pulls out his phone, turns the screen on, and then immediately turns it back off. “But what if she says no?” he asks.

That’s when you realize something unimaginable. Jeon Jungkook is afraid of rejection.

“She won’t say no.” You assure him with confidence not only because you are the tattoo artist in question but also because you know what a catch Jungkook is. Anyone would be foolish to lose a boy like him. “And if she does say no, for whatever reason, that’s her loss.”

“You make it sound like I’m going to propose to her.” Jungkook makes a face before addressing your heartfelt pep talk from one friend to another. “But I get your point, and I probably shouldn’t be fretting over something like this, huh."

“Great, then you won’t mind if I DM her for you, right?” In the blink of an eye, you snatch the boy’s phone out of his hand and start typing out a message from @ArtOfKooking to @snowsleeve. And the only reason why you’re texting at an incredibly underwhelming 15wpm is that one of your hands is still being held captive by Jeon Jungkook.

The boy says, “Y/N, wait,” but he also doesn’t fight for his phone as you type one character at a time. He does, however, backspace when you get too carried away with the emojis. Bad boys apparently don’t vibe with the sparkly heart emoji the way you do.

Once you’re satisfied with the message, you hand the phone back to its rightful owner for him to hit send. He rolls his eyes at the baby angel emoji you managed to sneak in at the end, but he leaves it in anyway and sends the message.

“So if I hypothetically got an appointment with her, would you come with me?” Jungkook is practically the puppy eye emoji with how he looks at you for a response. What kind of sick human being could ever say no to that?

“Of course,” you say, smiling until your apartment comes into view. You suppose all good things must come to an end eventually. “Do you have an idea of where you’d want the tattoo?”

Jungkook, again, does a quick check of his visible skin. “Maybe somewhere hidden, where only you would know.”

That’s the appeal of a hidden tattoo—it’s your little secret, and you can choose who you share it with. You’ve done a lot of different tattoos in your professional career, but the hidden ones have always held the most meaning to you.

And maybe that’s why it meant something more when the boy invited you to find all of his tattoos, including the ones that aren’t easily accessible. He wants you to know that there are things like his hidden ink and the duck pond that are shared only between you and him. There’s no reason to have doubts when he treats you just as kindly as he treats anyone else.

Because no one else in the world will know where your tattoo went on Jeon Jungkook’s body.

When the two of you reach your front door, you dig around your bag for your keys. The boy peers over your shoulder from behind, and you’re pretty sure you can feel his warmth against your back.

Just as you swing the door open and take a step inside, Jungkook prolongs the hangout, the date, or whatever you want to call this spontaneous outing.

“Wait, Y/N. You don’t have a lip tattoo, too, do you?” he asks. All this talk about hidden tattoos must’ve sparked his curiosity, but you find it interesting that your lips are on his mind when it’s time to say bye.

You spin around and watch frame-by-frame as the boy’s eyes pan to your lips.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” You poke your tongue out just a tad to wet your lips, knowing very well that it’s not helping to pacify his curious heart.

“Can you open your mouth real quick?” His face is awfully angelic for a request that sounds devilish when taken out of context. “Please,” he so politely adds.

“Sorry, I only suck cock on Sundays.” You couldn’t be more nonchalant about the weird things you say. But then again, Jungkook did imply that he likes the weird you. “And preferably not with the door open like that.”

“Y/N, what the fuck,” he laughs, closing the door behind him to play along. You might never get over how cute he looks when his face scrunches up like that. “You know what I meant.”

The apartment feels a lot darker with the door closed even though the sun has only begun to set. If you didn’t have to tattoo a tiny alligator onto some guy’s calf today, something tells you Jungkook would stick around a little longer and you wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.

You take a few steps back toward the door to your room, and he follows like a magnet. “If you want my mouth open so badly, open it yourself,” you dare him.

With his eyes glued to your lips, he pins you against your door and cups his tatted hand gently around your chin. His thumb grazes your lower lip but doesn’t press down on it just yet. His eyes, now glazed with lust, meet yours just a split second before your lips collide.

You didn’t expect a kiss from Jeon Jungkook to be so delicate, but that’s exactly what you get. His lips have a plush bounce to them, eager but not assertive. His tongue, on the other hand, slides right in and makes itself at home before you can even invite him in. At least he makes it up to you with tenderness and heat, like a slow and sensual massage that brings out the tiniest moan from you.

You have to resist the urge to run your hands up his chest to his very vulnerable neck. Because once you start letting your lust take over, you know you won't be able to stop, and you'll make your client sad when you have to reschedule his highly anticipated lizard tattoo.

So, as much as it pains you, you force yourself to end the kiss with a few pecks on his lips and one on his cheek. His hand still cups your chin, so you help his thumb pull your lower lip down to reveal nothing but a flushed interior where a lot of mutual feelings were satiated for the time being.

“Keep looking,” you say softly, backing Jungkook toward the way out. You would really love it if your local lizard enthusiast called and canceled his appointment right now. But of course, that doesn’t happen. “And let me know when you get a response from @snowsleeve!”

“You’ll be the first person I tell,” he nods and opens the door with a healthy smile. “Have fun at your appointment.”

“I will,” you say. And you mean it. Even though you were bothered by the thought of work earlier that morning and would’ve preferred to stay with the boy longer, you know you’ll be okay no matter what shit you go through. As long as you know Jungkook is waiting to make you smile and feel special again at the end of it.

[ali-kitkat]

Strangeness and Charm

MGI 2021 One-Year Anniversary Gift Exchange

hello, im back for a little post for @khneltea you are the recipient for enemies to lovers and by gods i hope you like this! romantic, or well its implied, daminette enemies to lovers! also tagging @issaxcharlie as per requested in the server!

fic is under the cut!

Marinette understood that the bat team was sent to Paris to help her; now that it was just herself against Papillon, but she really wanted to kick Robin’s teeth in. She couldn’t stand him. He was a self-centered, entitled, little shit. How dare he come into her city and tell her how to do her job? 

The akuma attacks had been sporadic since she had revoked Chat Noir’s miraculous and the only attack that had occurred since Robin and the rest of the bats had arrived was Mister Pigeon. However, if she was being honest with herself that hardly counted as an attack in her or anyone’s books anymore. 

It took all of her self control to not throttle him on the rooftop, after she had cast the miraculous cure, when he said “If this is what qualifies as an attack for you, I would hate to see how you would fare against even one of Gotham’s villains.” She was livid, he had based his opinions on akuma attacks by one attack and one attack only. 

He had only been in Paris for a week and this is how he treated her, because of one little flare up by their resident akuma magnet? He had no idea what even counted as an attack in Paris nowadays.

Mister Pigeon? Definitely not. 

Siren? Absolutely.

Due to him being close to her in age, she had constantly paired up with him during her nightly patrols and she hated it. She wondered if this was his team's way of trying to get him to socialize or work on his people skills. If so, they were doing an absolutely shit job of it. 

At this point she really had debated whether or not being on Batman’s shit list would be worth dangling Robin from the Eiffel Tower by his ankles. She could do it. She knows she could, she had done it before in fact, to Chat before she took his miraculous away from him. In the end, she decided that it wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would cause her; but if she did accidentally hit him with her yo-yo while patrolling with him that night, no one would be the wiser. 

She elected to ignore the muttered curses and detoured from her usual route in an attempt to get away from the miserable bastard. Of course, Robin then scolded her for running away and being an inferior hero. At that point she decided to put even more distance between them, only to prevent herself from injuring a potential ally. If he could even be called that with his constant berating and demeanor.

It was then that she heard a scream, an akuma. Kwami, she hoped it wasn’t Sandboy again, especially since his usual appearances were during the night. 

She cast a quick glance at Robin and decided to leave him be. She took off in the direction of the scream, he was preoccupied by something on his gauntlet, if the blue light it was emitting was an indicator. Besides she had been fighting akumas for years now, the last thing she needed was Robin’s attitude and chiding rather than his help. 

He didn’t need to see her nightmares either if it was in fact Sandboy who was akumatized as well.  Sure, she wasn’t exactly the same thirteen year old girl she was when she first started battling akumas but Robin certainly didn’t need any more ammunition to use against her. 

He didn’t need to see that her nightmares were of herself, whispering in her ear, telling her to give up. That she was a failure, that she should just let Papillon have the miraculous. It would all be over, it wasn’t like she would remember that she was Ladybug anyways. Whatever wish he would make would erase the current timeline out of existence. She hated seeing it.

When she touched down on the street, the first thing she noticed was that it was empty. There was no sign of any akuma, no destruction or frozen bodies. There wasn’t anything, it was too empty, as if the people had just up and disappeared. It was incredibly unnerving. 

Casting another look around, she saw something dart into the shadows of an alleyway. She jumped to a neighboring rooftop and looked down. There it was, the akuma. They didn’t look like anything special, no obnoxious colours or outrageous outfits. Just someone in a simple, sleek suit in muted colours, their hair tied back in a dark braid and a drooping butterfly mask that looked like ruined eyeliner. 

They looked up and made eye contact. She flung herself back on the rooftop. The akuma’s eyes looked empty, there was no emotion or life in them. It was disconcerting. 

She looked back down into the alleyway to try to get another read on the akuma. They were gone. She rose to her feet and looked around again, just in case she missed something. 

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here,” a low, gravelly voice called out. It sounded as if they had gargled glass. Marinette quickly turned around to see the akuma at the other end of the rooftop. “A little ladybug all alone. Let us see what kind of memories you hold, heroine.”

Then suddenly the akuma was in front of her, arm outstretched and their hand was pressed against her forehead. She watched as her memories played out in real time before her and the akuma. She watched as her memories played side by side, all at once. It was headache inducing. 

Marinette saw the first friend she made in almost a decade. She saw Lila threaten her and her friendships. She saw the day she had met Tikki, and the day she had received guardianship of the miracle box from Fu. She watched as flashes of her homelife flashed by, the few happy memories of her parents before the bakery’s popularity increased, before they began to neglect her. Before Lila’s honeyed words ruined what little she had left of them. 

She watched as memories of previous akuma attacks played out. Of how Chat Noir acted away from the crowds and cameras, how treated her like an object to be won rather than a person. She watched as she had scrubbed herself raw in the shower after he had touched her, as she scrubbed her teeth after he forced a kiss on her.

She watched as the attacks ended and her reunions with her friends had turned into screaming fits. The shouts of how she was flakey and that if she was just going to hang out with them only to ditch them halfway through their time together that they were no longer going to be friends anymore, that they were better off without her. She watched as Lila smiled from across the room, where she comforted her former friend. As Lila’s promises came to fruition.

She watched as her nightmares flashed by just as quick of her looking in the mirror, looking at the scars that the miraculous cure hadn’t healed. As her reflection had started to speak. That she should give up, let Papillon have the miraculous. That she wasn’t worth it, that she was all alone. As the whispered words of her former friends had joined in. She watched as images of Chat had appeared telling her that she was his and no one else’s.

She watched as she was left to pick up the pieces of her life.

Suddenly she was wrenched back and someone was holding her against their person. She could see one of the bat-themed vigilantes fighting against the akuma, it looked to be Red Hood with the way the streetlight was glinting off his helmet. She could hear herself breathing heavily and could feel the tears streaming down her face as she was swung away from the akuma.

When the person holding her landed on a different rooftop, she wrenched herself out of their arms. She hit the rooftop with a thud and scrambled as far away from them as she could possibly get; then she buried her face in her knees. She covered her ears with her hands, hoping to block out the unrelenting images of her memories and nightmares. She didn’t want to see or hear anything. She certainly didn’t want to see anyone’s pitying looks or hear their scorn. She just wanted to forget, this akuma was most definitely Papillon’s newest masterpiece. 

She flinched when a hand settled on her shoulder and tried to inch away from it, without removing her hands from her ears. Unfortunately, the hand remained, grounding her ever so slightly. Finally she gave in and looked up. Robin was watching her, but rather than disdain or pity, his face was pinched with concern. She huffed out a laugh, it was weak and made Robin flinch. She shrugged his hand off and stood; she held her head high and wiped her tears away. Ignoring his questioning looks, she tossed her yo-yo out. 

“Ladybug,” he said softly. 

“Don’t. Whatever you have to say, keep it to yourself. I don’t care,” she croaked. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, she just wanted to be done with this night and its horrors.

“Ladybug,” he repeated. “Regardless of whatever you might think or feel, you are not alone. There are plenty of other heroes who know exactly how you feel, who have been exactly where you are.” 

That stopped her in her tracks. Of course Robin of all people had seen her memories, her nightmares and her fears. She turned and glared at him, though she imagined it wasn’t all that effective. What with her tear streaked face and red eyes. 

“I know how you feel,” Robin sighed and she deflated. “That your best is not enough, that you, yourself are not good enough. I have been in your shoes. I have felt alone.”

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it,” she sniped bitterly, closing in on herself.

“I apologize,” Robin stated. 

“What?” 

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “I realize that I may have come off as too brusque and in doing so have diminished your accomplishments.” 

“Why?” she asked. “Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just playing at being a hero. My villain just found out my identity and so did all of you and your team.”

“That being, it was not, nor is it, your fault,” he replied. “I made assumptions of which I am at fault for, and of which caused the predicament of which you have found yourself in. You cannot quit or give up because of several imbeciles, because if you do, you let them win. You do not strike me as a sore loser, Ladybug.”

Marinette let out a laugh and watched as Robin’s expression shifted. He no longer looked concerned, but was now smiling wryly at her. She returned the smile. “Thank you Robin.” 

“You are welcome,” he said. “Now I believe you have an akuma to take care of? Would you care for some assistance?” 

“I would,” she replied.

“I look forward to working with you more,” he said, “Marinette.” 

Marinette nodded, feeling her face flush at the way Robin said her name. “I do too Robin. I do too.”

[hawkwhore]

Rebound - Hawk X Female!Reader

taking place some time after his breakup with moon, (probably end of S3 era after his redemption) he starts to develop feelings for y/n, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for another relationship after what happened with moon. this results in constant disguised flirting to avoid commitment, leaving y/n confused on if he likes her, or is just joking around.

p.s. thank you guys so much for 100 followers!! :) i decided that im gonna make a hawk imagine as a thank you since i’ve been thinking about doing it for awhile. im so scared to post this bye.

words; 2,444

includes; light swearing, angst, fluff

It had gotten to a point, that it was almost bothersome. Bothersome, the way he would talk to you, and pretend like it was nothing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greeted you as you sat down at Hawk’s lunch table. Your friends smirked and you rolled your eyes, trying to repress a smile. He did this all too often, making comments that shouldn’t be made unless it meant something more.

“Hi.” You sat down awkwardly, never knowing how to respond to his uncomfortable remarks. Not that you exactly minded them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a thing for Hawk. But what you didn’t like, however, was not being able to tell if his comments were serious, or just another way to amuse himself over your reactions.

“So, we were just talking about the next All Valley. You’re coming to watch, right?” Hawk asked you as he bit into his food. You were never really into actually taking these karate classes, but you were a supportive friend to the group and always came to watch them fight. “Yeah, of course.”

“I still think you should join the dojo and fight with us, Y/N.” Miguel said hopefully and you smiled at him, preparing to reject the idea again. “Yeah, plus, you’d look pretty hot in the uniform, right guys?” Hawk joked, looking to the table for agreement. You let out a sigh of disappointment at the comment, laughing it off as the rest of the group agreed.

“Yeah, not happening.” You said while grinning, shutting the idea down for the millionth time. Hawk frowned. “You’re lame.” He stuck out a finger from behind the sandwich he was holding to point a finger at you. “Oh well. Looks like you guys will have to find another way to spend more time with me.” You joked, and gave a shrug of your shoulders to your friends.

You had thought, this would have been a good opening for Hawk to say something like ‘You’re right, do you wanna go out with me this weekend?’ but of course, he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything, really. The conversation just went on.

It made no sense to you why he acted the way he did, but never made a move. It was truly infuriating at times. Eventually the bell rang, and you all parted for the second half of your classes. You wouldn’t see Hawk again until your last period, which was both upsetting and a relief for you at the same time. He’s just so unpredictable.

There had even been times you’d called him out on his behavior, like when you all went out to Golf N’ Stuff and he practically acted like you two were a couple the whole night. He was complimenting you, putting his arm around you, and it prompted you to quite literally say, ‘If you actually like me that much why haven’t you asked me out?’ In a taunting tone towards him, wanting to see what he’d do.

For the first time in a long time, he’d seemed intimidated. He retracted his arm from you even, and after a moment’s silence regained his usual composure to spout a “You wish,” and laugh it off. It hurt your feelings a little, honestly. Was he just using you for the comfort without the obligation? Could it have easily been anyone else besides you? You were determined to find out, but you’ve just been stuck playing the long game.

It was later that day when you reached your final class that more unsurprising events from Hawk occurred. You had been sitting in the general center area of the classroom when Hawk walked in, and he shot a wink your way as he took his usual seat behind you.

“Hey,” he greeted. You turned around to face him, noticing once again how cute he looked in his red hoodie that you wish was yours, and replied nonchalantly. “Hey, how was bio?” You asked him. The teacher wasn’t here yet, so you were thankfully able to converse without being yelled at.

“It was wild,” he started, and his eyes lit up while his mouth curled into a devious smile. “We actually dissected some shit today. Just completely ripped the frog’s guts apart.” He spoke, feeling accomplished. “Totally badass.”

You mimicked the way a person would vomit, exclaiming how disgusting that story was. “And that is exactly why I am not taking biology.” You said while giggling.

He rolled his eyes playfully, but watched you intently as you laughed. He didn’t say anything at first, just smiled softly. “I love your laugh, it’s so cute.” There it is. Except this time it seemed a little more sincere than a harmless flirtation. Too bad that you know that’s all it really is, though.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in a confused look at his compliment like you always do, and turned back to the front of the class when you realized the teacher had just arrived.

It can’t be that he’s scared to ask you out in some sort of fear of rejection, because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel many times before. When it first started, you tried to reciprocate the things he did and said. But every time you tried, he brushed you off and made you feel like he didn’t want that. So, what, he could flirt with you, but you couldn’t flirt with him? How is that fair?

You considered these thoughts throughout class, and it was starting to frustrate you. Seriously, how is that fair?

You had become so focused on these thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t notice when the teacher had called on you. “Y/N,” Hawk shook your arm from behind you trying to get your attention back onto the class, and you whipped your head up. “Yeah, sorry.”

When class was over and you headed out of the room, Hawk was close to follow behind and pull you to the side before you got too far. “Hey are we still on for tonight?” He asked confidently, referring to your plan to watch the new WandaVision episode together at his house after school. You would’ve been nervous about this, but luckily Demetri was coming, so it shouldn’t be too awful.

“Yeah, duh,” you said while walking towards the exit with him. When you reached his car, you looked around. “Where’s Demetri?” You questioned, as Hawk started getting in the drivers’ seat. “He didn’t tell you he wasn’t coming?” He said boredly. Suddenly you felt tense, but you masked that with a look of annoyance. Figures.

“Ugh, what? No? He’s annoying. Why not?” You complained as you got in the car, no longer waiting for Demetri to show up. “Family dinner, I think?” He responded, while you buckled in your seatbelt and checked your makeup in the little mirror.

“Okay, well, his loss I guess.” You tried to hide your anxiousness about the fact you two were now going to be alone together at his house, with continued annoyance about Demetri’s cancellation.

“Yeah definitely, what loser would pass up an entire hour of sitting next to you?” He commented smugly, trying to lighten the mood. “Half-hour.” You corrected, turning your head away and ignoring the flirtatious intention of the comment.

You shook off the unexpected change of plan and suggested some music, to which Hawk agreed. You both terribly sang along to a few songs while chatting about WandaVision theories until you got to his house, and went inside.

“So what was that in class today?” As you two were walking upstairs to his room, he asked you this almost through a bit of laughter. “What do you mean?” You looked for clarification, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he did. “You never lose focus in class.” He confirmed.

“Yeah I don’t know! Just zoned out I guess.” You tried to explain without giving him the details on the thoughts that caused your zoning out, thankful for not having to be in direct eye contact with him as you answered while walking inside his room.

Unfortunately, this answer was not good enough for Hawk. “Bullshit! What were you thinking about?” He encouraged lightheartedly, assuming this topic of conversation wouldn’t be anything deep. How wrong he was.

You sat down on his bed and he did the same, and you tried to think of what to say next. At your silence he continued, “You were probably thinking about how hot I am, huh?” You lightly smacked his arm and let out a breath of defeat.

“I don’t wanna kill the vibe by talking about this. I just wanna see Evan Peters in the next episode.” You tried changing the topic by making a joke, but he didn’t budge.

“Dude, what is it? Seriously you can talk to me.” He looked at you sincerely and moved a little closer, detecting this might be more serious than he thought. As annoyed as you were that he wouldn’t give this up, your heart melted a bit at this action.

Then, that heart started beating incredibly fast when you realized what you were now going to have to admit to him. It’s fine, you told yourself, you’ve been wanting to get this off your chest for ages, so just do it.

“Do you like me?” You blurted out.

That is not how you intended to start this conversation at all.

The smirk that was always planted on Hawk’s face immediately fell, and he suddenly looked nervous. “What?” He asked, trying to avoid answering.

Lucky for him, you had more to say.

“All you do, every time I see you, is make flirtatious comments towards me, and it’s weird. It wouldn’t be weird if you actually meant them, but you had plenty of chances to act on it and you haven’t, so at this point I’m wondering if you’re just using me as some sort of fun rebound to mess with and you don’t even like me at all, especially since whenever I tried to flirt back you brushed it off and acted like I was an idiot for doing that, so if you don’t actually like me I’d appreciate if you stopped doing what you’re doing because it’s confusing and I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

You hesitated for a moment after your very passionate speech, and finished with, “That.. is what I was thinking about during class.”

You looked up at him anxiously and saw an expression of hurt and guilt on his face, and he gulped harshly at the realization that it was his turn to talk.

“You’re not a rebound.” He spoke softly, avoiding eye contact, almost reverting back to his Eli persona. You felt a glimpse of hope at this, but waited for him to continue, fidgeting with the ends of your shirt’s sleeves in impatience.

“And I’m sorry I made you feel like that was even a possibility.” He said louder, slowly regaining his confidence in his words. “I’ve been nervous, after Moon, about getting into another relationship.” He admitted to you, finally looking into your eyes.

Now that he wasn’t as nervous anymore to explain himself, suddenly you were. Where was this going?

“I didn’t want to commit to anything, I was..” He took a breath, as if ashamed to say it, “Scared.” He looked down, avoiding your gaze again, but continued. “I just didn’t want to screw up the same way I did before, and grow a relationship like that just for it to end so soon.”

“So you thought you’d just flirt with whoever was around to compensate your need for love?” You interrupted harshly. You felt a little bad, but you were still angry, and insecure.. and it still sounded like a rebound.

But all your thoughts of self-doubt went out the window when he took your hands in his. “No!” Hawk said, almost shouting in disbelief at you. “I like you a lot, Y/N. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t want to make things serious and get hurt again, or even worse I do something stupid and hurt you. But I guess my attempt at ‘liking you from a distance’—“ He put emphasis on those words, as though making fun of his own phrasing. “—ended up being stupid and hurt you anyways. And I’m really sorry for that.”

Hawk poured his heart out to you, and you were in shock. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so vulnerable before. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you did something you thought you’d never do.

You kissed him.

His short look of confusion as you leaned in quickly faded when he realized, and he happily accepted the kiss. He moved his hand to hold your face, his other one on your waist, and you lightly rested your hands on his chest. A sense of relief washed over you, finally understanding what was going through his head all this time. Before the kiss could deepen, you parted from him to say something.

“I understand,” You moved your arms up a little, wrapping them around his neck while talking, and he held your waist loosely. “But I hope you know that we don’t have to be like you and Moon. You’ve changed so much since then. And I believe in us. I want to be with you.”

You stared into his eyes intensely, hoping he would say exactly what you’ve been wanting him to say to you for months.

His puppy dog expression broke into a huge smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, I want to be with you too.” He leaned in again, much more confidently this time, and kissed you deeply.

He kept his hold on your waist tight, and your lips continued to move together as your hands grasped onto the back of his neck. He leaned forwards slightly and moved his hand to hold your jaw, but accidentally broke the kiss from a smile he couldn’t manage to suppress.

You giggled at this, giving him another quick peck on the lips before turning yourself towards the TV. “So, WandaVision?” You reminded him, laughing to yourself a bit at how things escalated.

“Oh, right,” Hawk hesitated, looking at you for another second. “Fine.” He gave up the idea of kissing you more, and searched for the remote.

“I guess we should be glad Demetri didn’t come after all.” Hawk smiled slyly as he picked up the remote, and cuddled up next to you on the bed.

You laughed, and curled up close to him as he turned on the show. “Yeah, definitely.”

———————————————————————

ok hi i hope this wasn’t terrible i’ve basically never written a fanfic before but if y’all liked it you can send me requests??

also random thought i got uncomfy just writing them kissing even though i read intensely nsfw fanfics on the daily so idk why that happened but anyways. LMFAOOO

bye thank u for 100 followers excuse me while i hibernate because this post is embarrassing

[tr6polla]

summary : preparing for mother’s day together ! ; gender neutral

character : deuce

warnings : none !

a/n : this is a week late grrr im vvv sorry orz

“. . . does it really look okay ?” deuce scrutinizes the flimsy piece of paper set in front of him, fingers going up to fiddle with the tips of the page. he heaves a sigh and turns in his chair to face you.

“it looks great ! i’m sure she’ll love it.” you assure him with a light touch to his shoulder. he looks unconvinced despite your insistence, shoulders sagging in visible disappointment.

deuce shakes his head, “i doubt it.”

it was deuce’s idea - with mother’s day coming up, there was no way he’d miss the chance to prove himself as the future honor student he is. he asked for your assistance the day before, sheepishly mentioning how you’d have a better eye for such sentimental things than he would. it was sweet. he was sweet. not being able to refuse such an innocent request, you agreed to spend the next morning with deuce. 

it had been an hour since you first sat down together. deuce, not being able to settle for less than what his dear mother deserves, sits with a frazzled mind, continuously making minor, unnecessary touch-ups to what looks to be a collage of some sort.

far from picture perfect, the gift deuce was preparing was clumsily put together. a plethora of photographs from his time at NRC with the addition of a few decorative flower petals and hand written notes littered the piece of paper, each chosen with meticulous planning. your input was greatly valued by deuce, not a single decision made without him prodding you for what you though about his plans.

design evidently wasn’t an area of expertise for deuce. even with the careful planning that had come beforehand, his hands didn’t seem to cooperate with what his mind had originally envisioned. what deuce had planned to be a beautiful display of his studious accomplishments unfortunately was developing into a poorly put together collection of endearing, if not academically impressive, photos. the droopy decor admittedly wasn’t the most attractive, yet there was an undeniable fond touch to it.

deuce slumps onto the table and stretches his arms out in front of him. he lets out a strangled groan, muffled by the cloth of his sleeves. it was comical almost - with the way he managed to work himself up over a simple mother’s day gift in such a short amount of time, you never would have expected someone of his kind to have such a history in delinquency.

amused by the trouble he had managed to find himself in, you reach a hand out to smooth bits of hair sticking up from his usual neat tufts of hair. deuce relaxes under your touch, silently welcoming your gentle pats of his head.

“i’m telling you, it looks fine !” you reassure him once more. “maybe you’ll like it more once you’re finished ? think about the big picture, you know !”

“if you say so,” deuce grumbles under his breath and wills himself to sit back up in his chair. “i’m glad you’ll be there too. my mom’s been wanting to meet you for a while now.”

you hum in surprise, eyes darting up to meet deuce’s gaze.

“huh ?” deuce is startled by your reaction, looking to be almost as surprised as you are. “aren’t you coming along ?”

[everafterfics]

Feelings Are A Slippery Slope [Viktor X Reader]

This was only supposed to be a short comfort thing, but it turned into something more. Im not 100% happy with it, but it gets the job done.

The reader is rather shy in this one and it takes place before the start of the show.

Synopsis: After a terrible morning, Viktor attempts to comfort the reader when she slips and breaks her project in the hallway. Her feelings for him stop her from allowing him to get close to her... but what if...

Warnings: None

You’d picked up an extra shift at the local coffee shop this morning to help pay for your classes at the Piltover academy. It was a decision that you instantly regretted when you walked through the doors of the shop. Your coworkers were rushing about the overcrowded store. On any normal day the morning rush wouldn’t be this bad. However, there was an incoming snowstorm and it seemed that all of Piltover wanted it’s share of warm drinks before the storm set in.

The customers were ruder than usual as well, several of them practically spitting in your face when their coffee took too long to get the them. “You dumb bitch? Can’t you make a simple coffee order? I asked for whipped cream on this!” One woman screamed at you, throwing her drink back in your face. It took everything in you to not cry at that exact moment.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll make you a new one right away.” You said with a large and fake smile. You rushed as much as you could to remake the order. Once it was done the rude woman snatched it from your hand so fast that her manicured nails almost scratched your hand open.

“They’ll really hire anybody these days, huh?” She said with a scowl.

There were several other interactions like that in the short few hours of your shift. You didn’t even get the chance to sit down from the moment you clocked in until you clocked out for the day. It left your feet sore and a serious mental strain on your brain.

As if your morning wasn’t bad enough you’d barely slept the night before. You had a very important project due for one of Professor Heimerdingers classes, to improve upon an existing invention and make it your own. You had stayed up to make sure that yours was perfect. After your shift you quickly returned to your dorm on campus to retrieve said project and to clean yourself up before class. By the time you started to head back out the snow had started to fall. A thin blanket of freshly fallen powder covered the ground. Unfortunately classes had not been canceled so you had to trudge through it.

You gave a deep sigh before stepping lightly onto the snow covered sidewalk. If you could just make it to class without slipping than you’d consider the day a success. With grace and poise you slowly made your way down the sidewalk and to the engineering building. A feat that you did not think was entirely easy to accomplish. There were a couple of close calls along the way, but you finally made it to the doors of the building.

You pushed through the door and began walking down the hallway. The floors clearly had not been cleaned as they were just as slippery as the ground outside. You were about halfway to the classroom when your foot hit a slippery patch of hallway. As your feet slid out from underneath you, your project went tumbling to the ground along with you. Screws and sprockets went flying upon impact, the whole invention broken to pieces on the hard tile floor. You groaned as you pushed your now aching body from your stomach onto all fours. ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry’ you repeated that mantra in your head with your eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you ok miss Y/L/N? That was quite the fall.” A voice rang out above you. It held concern through the Russian accent that it contained. It was a voice you knew well, professor Heimerdingers assistant Viktor. Because of course it would be him to find you in this state. You only had a giant crush on the man so why wouldn’t fate have him find you on one of the worst days that you’d had in awhile.

You looked up at him and without warning the tears starting flowing down your face. ‘Shit!’ You thought to yourself. This was the straw that broke the camels back, and now you wouldn’t be able to get the tears to stop. It was completely and utterly embarrassing.

Viktor didn’t know how to respond to your broken down state. He simply held out his free hand to try and help you up. You looked past him to where your project laid on the ground in shambles and your simple tears became full on sobs.

Viktor rescinded his hand and instead walked over to your invention. He carefully knelt himself down and began looking at the broken pieces. “This is for Professor Heimerdingers class, yes?” He asked.

You could only nod in response between your sobbing.

“The parts that are salvageable look very well constructed.” He examined several pieces in his hand before looking towards you. Your sobbing had subsided but tears still streamed down your face. “We can explain to the professor what happened and I’m sure he can give you an extension to fix this.”

He stood back up and approached you once more. This time you took the hand he held out to you. The simple contact causing butterflies in your stomach as he helped you to your feet. “Thank you.” You whispered, that was all that you could get to come out of your throat. You dared not look him in the eyes, you didn’t want to see any sort of judgement on his face.

He could see that his presence made you a bit uncomfortable. He nervously asked, “Would you like me to escort you to class? Or perhaps to the infirmary?”

“Class is fine. I should be ok” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, again you avoided looking at him. You proceeded to go to your smashed up project and collected the pieces of it. If you had been looking you would have seen Viktor watching you with concern and compassion. You stood with the wreck of an invention in your arms and turned your body towards him but kept your head towards the floor.

Viktor walked closer to you. “Are you sure you’re ok miss Y/L/N?”

It was that damned question again. He was genuinely concerned about you, but the thought of opening up to him made everything so much worse for your already fragile mental state. “I’m fine.” You tried to say, but your voice betrayed you in the end. It cracked and once again the floodgates were opened. Tears fell down your face once more. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

Viktor hovered his hand over your shoulder for a moment, contemplating if he should actually touch you. His hand made contact with your arm and you tensed for a moment before leaning into his touch. “No need for apologies. Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you? I can’t help but feel like it’s more than just the fall and your broken project.”

You wanted to talk to him, truly you did. But in your current state you felt like it would be a bad idea. You didn’t want him to see you crying in the first place, to see you so weak and vulnerable. So you shook your head. “I just want to go to class.”

Viktor hummed in response. He wished you would open up to him. In truth he had always found you intriguing. The quiet girl who sat in the front of the class, always alone, doodling in the margins of her notes. He always wondered how someone who doesn’t seem to pay much attention in class always ended up with the best grades. His curiosity of you only increased when he caught you staring at him once. ‘Why would she be staring at me?’ He remembered thinking on that day. But that thought soon turned to a yearning, to know more about you, and the thoughts you kept concealed.

“To class then.” Viktor said with a small smile and he began to lead you down the hall. He would glance at you every so often, whether it was to make sure you didn’t fall or to admire you was anybodies guess. Viktor wasn’t the type to fall easily for someone, much like you he preferred to keep his feelings concealed. Yet for some reason he felt a flutter in his chest whenever he looked down at you. He felt a need to help you, to protect you in your current fragile state.

You reached the door to the classroom and Viktor held it open for you. By this time class had already started and the both of you entered late, all eyes on you. You immediately ran to your usual seat in the lecture hall with your broken project. It bothered you to have so many people looking your way.

“Professor may I speak with you?” Viktor whispered before Heimerdinger could continue speaking.

“Of course my boy, just one moment.” Heimerdinger responded. “We will begin with project presentations in a moment. Talk amongst yourselves.” The professor announced. He and Viktor left the classroom.

You could feel the stares of several of your classmates on you, their eyes like daggers and their hushed whispers stabbed you in the heart. You tried to distract yourself from the heat on your cheeks that was rising from embarrassment. Taking out your notebook you began to scribble down notes on how to fix your invention.

Finally Viktor and Heimerdinger entered the room once again. “Miss Y/L/N, can you come here a moment?” The professor asked.

‘Great. What now?’ You thought to yourself. You approached the front of the room. “Yes professor?” You asked.

“Viktor explained what happened. I’m sorry to hear about your project. I’ve decided to allow you this class time to go and make the necessary repairs and you can present your invention to me tomorrow.” Relief washed over you to hear that. “I’m also allowing Viktor to assist you, given the short timeframe.” That however, made your heart race.

“Really professor, I don’t think I’ll need any help.” You said before you got the chance to think.

“Nonsense. Gather your project and get to fixing!” Heimerdinger said with a smile.

You collected your project and just as quickly as you came you left the classroom. Viktor followed after you. “You really don’t want my help?” he asked once the two of you were alone in the hallway. His voice sounded dejected and it made you feel bad.

“I just…work better alone is all.” You turned your head away from him. In your heart you did want Viktors help, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to focus with him around. You would be too focused on making sure you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

“Well, the professor said you can use his lab to work if you’d like. And perhaps if you change your mind I am happy to help.”

You glanced out the window to see the snow coming down harder. You really didn’t want to walk back to your dorm in weather like that. “I think I would prefer that to going back to my dorm room.”

“Than allow me to lead the way.” Viktor kindly gestured for you to follow him and you did just that. The walk wasn’t too long, but the silence between the two of you made it feel like ages.

Finally you made it to the large doors of Heimerdingers office and Viktor unlocked them for both of you. “The lab is over there. Feel free to make yourself comfortable and I will get you some tools.” he said and gestured to the connected room.

You set down your invention, sat down, and took out the notes you had started before leaving class. Viktor returned with the promised tools. “So, what does this invention of yours do?” he asked.

“It is an improvement on an air purifier. Most purifiers are for an individual to use, but this should be able to purify the air in an entire room. I got the idea after a discussion on the Undercity in one of my other classes. I had no idea the air down there was toxic.” You busied yourself as you spoke, not looking at Viktor made it a lot easier to speak.

“It is not exactly toxic, but it is certainly not healthy to breathe for long periods of time. You did not know that about the Undercity?” Viktor leaned on the table and you glanced at him.

“I’m not-“ you cleared your throat when your voice got caught looking up at his Amber eyes. “I’m not from Piltover. I don’t really know a lot about the Undercity.”

“Ah I see. It seems I don’t know a lot about you Miss Y/L/N.” Viktor leaned a bit closer to you, trying to judge your reaction to him.

The screwdriver you had in your hand slipped and fell onto the table. “Ah” You exclaimed with a light blush to your cheeks. You quickly retrieved the fallen tool and continued to work. “I, uh, don’t know much about you either…Viktor” You hesitated in saying his name, it felt weird to refer to him directly.

Viktor chuckled lightly at your behavior and pulled a chair over to take a seat beside you. “Well to start, I am from the Undercity. And you?” He leaned his head on his hand and looked at you curiously.

You attached another piece to your broken invention. Keeping busy so that you had an excuse not to look at him. “I’m from a small town not too far from here.”

Viktor scowled at you. “That is all of the information I get? Not even the name of the town?”

“Its so small you’ve probably never even heard of it.”

“Are you always this secretive?”

You put down the screwdriver and sighed. “I don’t really enjoy smalltalk… or talking about myself.”

“Is that why you did not want to talk to me earlier?”

“Part of why…” You continued to focus your eyes on your invention rather than on Viktor, something that he had taken notice of.

“And the other part?” His curiosity was killing him inside.

“Thats personal…” You murmured.

“Y/N,” When he said your name it caught you off guard. You dropped the screwdriver again and turned your head to find his face dangerously close to yours. The blush on your face was more than noticeable. “I want to know more about you.”

You abruptly pushed your chair away from him and buried your face in your hands. “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Viktor took your motions as a sign to back off, though it left him disappointed. “No. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ll leave you to your work Miss Y/L/N.” Viktor hoisted himself up from his seat and began to head to the door.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable!” You shouted and Viktor stopped to turn around. He raised an eyebrow as a sign for you to continue. “It’s just difficult for me to be open with anyone.” You said softly.

“In that case I apologize for trying to get you to talk.”

You gave a soft smile to Viktor. He returned it and turned to leave the room again. “Viktor…”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” He stopped once more.

You gulped in anticipation for what your were going to ask. “Would you come and help me?”

“Id be happy to.” He came back and sat next to you. He scooted the chair so close that your knees were touching. Viktor reached across you to pick up your previously discarded screwdriver. His hand ghosted yours when he leaned closer to your invention. In a rush of bravery you grabbed his hand. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You shook your head. “I want you to know more about me, but I need time. Time to get more comfortable around you.”

Viktor looked at you with expectant eyes. “To be comfortable with me?”

You loosened your grip on his hand and let yours trace over it and down his arm until your hand rested on the table in front of you. “I want to be comfortable around you.” You repeated the words. You looked up at him through your lashes and Viktor could tell from the look in your eyes that you longed to tell him more. You looked away from him when your felt your heart pounding too loudly in your chest. His hand came to rest on top of yours, his thumb stroking across the top of it as if he were trying to comfort you in some way. “Viktor I want to tell you…” You took a very deep breath. ‘Why is this so hard?!’ you thought. The anxiety of telling him gave you a knot in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut. “I…”

Viktor other hand came up to stroke alongside your face. “You have feelings for me?” He finished your sentence for you and you released a very large sigh.

“Yes” Your eyes met his. The tender looked in his golden gaze made your heart swell.

Viktor smiled in response. “I was hoping that was it.” With those words your breath hitched. “Would it be too bold to kiss you?” Ever the gentleman Viktor felt the need to ask first.

“I don’t believe it would be.” You practically whispered your answer. Viktor wasted no time allowing your lips to connect with one another. You’d wanted this for so long, but you always expected it to be such an innocent ordeal… your first kiss with him. So you surprised yourself with how passionately you kissed him back. Once you pulled apart you stared into each others eyes for longer than you’d both care to admit.

The wind whistled and beat against the window, bringing you both back from your romantic distraction. “Perhaps we should get back to work.” You said.

“Perhaps we should.” Viktor mimicked. The two of you worked quickly to finish reconstructing your air purifier. After all, the quicker you finished your work the sooner you could spend more time by each others side.

[simpsiren]

about the roommate

park seonghwa x reader

main masterlist

description. you talk about your weird relationship with the roommate you’ve been with for so long yet still dont know much about

genre. roommates au, fluff, seonghwa hinting at reader that they like them

warnings. nonee

a/n. hihii so i wanted to try writing for ateez since ive been doing a lot of nct ff already. its my first time so i doubt that it’ll be accurate but i got the idea from this post by @darling-akaashi so i hope it will be decent. i never thought that it would be this long but oh well HAHA enjoyy :D

how did you even become roommates with someone like him? you dont even know. all you knew was that you were finding someone to share the apartment rent with and it just so happens that your friend at college, wooyoung, has a friend who was looking for an apartment.

and now here you are. a year and a half of sharing an apartment with seonghwa yet the two of you are in your separate rooms. the only interaction you ever made today was at breakfast where seonghwa cooked for you scrambled eggs and toasted bread.

there’s wasn’t much you knew about him at first. but as you slowly but surely try to accomplish your mission of getting to know seonghwa (since you didn’t like being awkward with people all the time), you start to learn a thing or two about him.

you were glad that after a year and a half of staying with him, you got to know more about him, despite the fact that the interaction between the two of you still needed some work.

[ONE] : he’s a clean freak.

you were feeling tired from a long day of school and all you thought of doing while walking home was to sit on the couch and resume your anime marathon.

you unlock your door to find seonghwa mopping the floor. you nod your head slowly as you close the door and take off your shoes before taking any step further.

“didnt you mop the floor yesterday?” you ask, placing your keys on the kitchen counter along with your bag on the chair of the dining table.

“yeah.” was all you heard from seonghwa as you pour yourself a glass of grape juice. “you dont have to mop again-“

“its a habit.” seonghwa replies simply. with your cup in hand, you make your way to the living room, where seonghwa is currently mopping. you take a seat on the couch and grab the controller to turn on the tv. “hey wanna watch attack on titans with me?” seonghwa was mopping the floor in between the couch you’re sitting on and the coffee table and stops in front of you, raising an eyebrow.

“i dont watch anime?” you furrow your eyebrows and frown. “come on its fun! stop your cleaning and at least watch one episode.” you grab seonghwa’s arm and pull him down to sit next to you, making him flinch a little and quickly placing the mop beside the couch.

“how am i suppose to watch when i dont know what happened before?” you roll your eyes.

“if you find this episode good then you can watch it from the start in your free time.”

seonghwa sighs and and stands up, walking away to keep the mop before taking a seat beside you again and getting comfortable. “this better be worth it. im suppose to clean the toilet right now.”

“that can wait.” you nudge your arm into his chest, making him let out another long sigh before watching the show silently.

[ONE.2]

it was a saturday morning as you went to sleep at 4am. hence, making you wake up at 11am in the morning. however, you have always been laying around in your bed for about an hour or so before getting out of your room. when the clock striked 12, you thought that it would be a good idea to get out of your room and have lunch. gathering up all your energy, you brought yourself out of bed and lazily walk out of your room.

as you walked down the hallway, the first thing you saw was seonghwa cleaning the counter top of the kitchen. you clicked your tongue and walked over to where seonghwa was.

“did you make lunch yet?”

seonghwa looks up at you and shakes his head. “its a saturday so im spring cleaning the house.” you rolled your eyes and shake your head.

“you do that every single day!” you whine. seonghwa raises his eyebrow. “i like to keep the house neat unlike you.” you let out a soft ‘tsk’.

you have to admit, you were not a clean person at all. the only reason why the apartment is clean is because of seonghwa’s habit of being well organised and meticulous. basically everything in the apartment but your room is squeaky clean. although you see seonghwa staring at your room and looked like he’s holding back the strong urge to clean it for you, he doesn’t really do anything about the fact that you are the complete opposite of him. you dont know why but you only shrug it off.

“ill help you today, alright? then you can quickly cook something up for us. im hella hungry right now.”

seonghwa lifts his head up from the table and scoffs with a slight smile. you furrow your eyebrows and frown. “what’s that face for, huh?”

“this is the first time you offered to help. id say thank you but i know you’re only doing it because we both know im the only one that can cook.” seonghwa says confidently. you purse your lips and nodded your head.

“you’re right. but i’ll still help. so, what should i do?” seonghwa tosses the cloth that he was using to clean the kitchen counter. you took a step back as you quickly got a hold of it.

“wash it and wipe the bookshelf.” you let out a long sigh before flashing him a bright smile and headed over to the bookshelf. while you were wiping the sides of the bookshelf, you could have sworn that you saw seonghwa looking at you with a smile and a light blush of pink on his cheeks. you pretended not to notice though, and shrug it off.

[TWO] : he’s a great cook.

you still remember the first day you came to the apartment. the first thing you see your new roommate doing was cleaning. like intense cleaning. it was late at night and you didn’t bother to even greet the stranger since you felt awkward and wanted to rest for the night.

however, at about two in the morning, you were laying down in your room when you felt the need to have a night snack. you stepped out of your room and went to the kitchen. the whole apartment was dark except for the dimly lit lamp at the kitchen. you jumped a little when you hear seonghwa’s voice coming from the living room.

“y/n?” you turn around to see seonghwa chilling on the couch with his phone. the living room was completely dark and you could only see his face from the light illuminating from his phone.

“i was just getting a snack to eat.” you said as you opened the fridge to look for something to eat. unfortunately, there wasnt anything that looked like it would fill your midnight appetite. you hear seonghwa standing up from the couch at the back and walking towards you. you tilted your head to the back and see seonghwa standing behinf you. you tale a step back.

“i can cook something if you want.”

“no no its fine i just need a simple snack.” seonghwa kept quiet for a moment as you went back to the fridge to look for food again, as if something might magically pop up. but of course nothing did.

“well i didnt think of getting any snacks when i moved in. ill make something.” seonghwa walks over to the fridge and nudges your arm, making you move to the kitcen counter and leaning your hip against it as you watch seonghwa get to work.

you were looking through your phone, distracted when you heard the noise of two bowls being olaced on the table. you lift your head up and noticed that seonghwa made yoghurt with cherries and raspberries. it wasnt your idea of a midnight snack but at this point, anything could go in your stomach.

“thanks.” you whisper softly as you drag the bowl near to you. seonghwa only hums in response as the two of you take a bite at the same time. your mouth gapes open as your head slowly tilts up from your bowl to look at seonghwa. he was casually eating when his raises an eyebrow at your weird expression.

“how.. how does this taste so good? what did you do it? did you poison it?!” seonghwa blinks at you a few times and shakes his head slowly. your forehead creases as you look at him suspiciously. “i never really liked yoghurt but holy shit.” you quickly take another bite.

“i think you’re just hungry. it tastes fine to me.” seonghwa says in a monotoned lazy manner and grabs the bowl and taking a seat at the dining table. you purse your lips into a straight line and grab your bowl as well and walking down the hallway to your room. before you open your door to go in, you quickly turn your head to the dining table.

“thanks for the yoghurt! ill wash the bowl later.” seonghwa doesnt react, keeping his eyes on his phone. you gave a weird look before heading inside. you sigh.

he’s going to be hard to talk to.

[TWO.2]

“its your birthday, right?” your jumped in your seat when seonghwa suddenly appeared beside you on the couch. “uhuh.. how’d you know?” you say softly, nodding your head.

“wooyoung told me. lll make you a cake or something. anything you want to eat?” you blink at him a few times, your mouth still gaping open as you were shocked about a few things. 1. he talking to you in a more open matter and 2. he actually want to make you something for your birthday.

“make me mac and cheese, please! i love the way you cook it!” you smiled brightly. seonghwa smiled back and coughed, only to return to his monotoned face. you laugh softly. you found it cute somehow.

“i wouldn’t have allowed it since its unhealthy but since its your birthday-”

“thank you!” you leaned in to hug seonghwa. the didnt hug you back, so you quickly pulled away. you noticed him blushing again, this time it was more obvious. you shook it off, despite knowing you felt butterflies in your stomach. “ill go out to get groceries then.” seonghwa stands up from the couch and heads inside his room to get ready.

you smiled to yourself constantly as you waited for seonghwa to finish making the mac and cheese. you sigh in satisfaction as the smell of the delicious food fills the air in the apartment. you tapped your feet excitedly as you had your eyes glued onto seonghwa with the pan in his hands. your face lit up the moment the starts walking towards you. you clap your hands as he places it down on the dining table.

“fuck it smells and looks to good.” you moan out. seonghwa lets out a soft laugh, making you blush just from hearing him do that. “if i made this any other day, i would’ve asked you to pay for the groceries.” you roll your eyes.

“come on dont be rude to me.” you grab a fork and spoon, bringing your plate near the pan and cutting out a slice for yourself. “thanks for the mac and cheese.” seonghwa only nods his head and took a slice for himself before the two of you ate together slowly, indulging the savoury and amazing taste of one of seonghwa’s best dishes he has ever made dor you.

you appreciated times like thae with seonghwa. alrhough not much interaction was made during meal times, you really felt that he cared for you. making meals you like on special occasions, and he’s always asking you what you want to eat, despite the fact that he might not be comfortable with the idea, he doesn’t fail to whip up a great meal. you liked that about seonghwa.

[THREE] : he’s a great listener.

you basically the worse day that day. for some reason, everything just had to go wrong. the only thing you felt the whole day were anger and sadness, more so towards anger. it was late at night yet you were still fuming in anger, only wanting to let it all out the moment you stepped into the apartment.

you unlocked the door and dropped your bag beside you and slammed the door shut. of course the piercing sound of the door made seonghwa lift his head up in an instant. you notice him laying down on the couch with his phone and usual.

stomping over to the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of cold water. you chugged the whole cup of water fast and forcefully place the cup on the counter. you clearly felt seonghwa’s eyes on you. you look up from your cup and notice him looking shocked, his mouth gaping open slightly.

“what?” you said, running your hand through your hair in frustration.

“you okay...?” you hear seonghwa ask. “does it look like im okay? today felt as if i entered a shit hole.” you huff. you made your way over to the couch, leaving your empty cup on the counter.

“move your ass.” you hiss at seonghwa. he raises an eyebrow and gets up from his laying position, proceeding to sit up and let you take a seat beside him.

you sit down and let your body sink into the couch, laying your head back as you sigh to calm yourself down. “what happened?” seonghwa whispers, putting away his phone and turning his attention to you.

you purse your lips into a thin line and slowly looked up at him. his eyes were filled with concern and his voice was gentle too. he hasn’t been this concerned about you before.

“apparently i got my best friend to dress up all cute and fancy so that she can have a date with my boyfriend behind my back.” you scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. you see seonghwa licking his lips nervously as he nodded his head.

“a shit show if you ask me. i saw him waiting for her in front of the shop i was working at.” you grab the pillow behind you and hug it close to your chest with you digging your face into it. “just how cruel can people get?” your voice was muffled but you knew seonghwa heard you loud and clear. you felt his hand resting on your back, patting it gently.

“its fine. rant all you want.” you took a deep breath and slammed the pillow onto your lap. you felt that it made seonghwa jump a little but he never fails to keep his composure in check. you could never be like him.

the night, all you did was talk, cried and screamed your heart out. and seonghwa was there to just listen to you. he didn’t react much, but he did nod a few times hear and there to let you know that he understood what you were saying. he wasnt so affectionate that he would hug you when you cried, but it felt good to just have him sit there with you while you let out all your anger and frustration. you figured that having him as your listener was his way of showing comfort for you.

[THREE.2]

it was 4am. you and seonghwa have been drinking since 2am. why? you had a bad day and you felt rhe need to destress with some alcohol. seonghwa wouldn’t have allowed you to get drunk but he was apparently having a bad day too and felt like he wanted to get a little drunk to forget everything that day.

“dont you know how fucking stupid that is? it only happens to me. why?!” you groan as you take down another shot. seonghwa fills up your cup again.

“just forget them. they’re being idiots.” seonghwa whispers. you gap your mouth open and roll your eyes. “how can i forgot something like that?!” you shout angrily, slamming your hand on the table. seonghwa laughs in a lazy manner.

“you’re cute when you’re mad.”

“excuse me?” you tilt your head to the side, wondering if you heard seonghwa’s words clearly.

“nothing.” you shrug it off and shake your head.

“by the way..” you started off. seonghwa lifts his head up from the table and lets out a ‘hm?’

“why arent you telling me why you’re drinking? you don’t normally do this. you dont even let me drink unless its a special occasion. i rarely see you drunk.”

seonghwa raises both his eyebrows and sigh. “i had a bad day. but yours sounds worse so ill let you do all the ranting.” seonghwa starts playing with his shot glass, circling his index finger around its rim.

you clicked your tongue. “but its always been about me. you cook me my favourite meals, you do all the cleaning and you’re always here for me when im pissed. i feel bad about it..” you quickly glance at seonghwa. its the blushing again. you started to accept the fact that you had an effect on him, instead of avoiding the fact that he might have feelings for you.

“i guess im always doing those things because...” he leans forward over the table, getting close to your face. you start to grow nervous and your heart started beating quickly. you held a fist to your chest, breathing slowly to calm you down, but it failed. its the first time you’ve seem seonghwa like this. he looked... hot?

“do you know the answer?” seonghwa asks, tilting his head to the side as you watch his eyes glaze over you whole face as if he’s admiring every inch of it.

“no?” your breathing stopped for a moment when seonghwa gets even closer. this time, your noses were touching. seonghwa chuckles lowly. why did that sound so good all of a sudden?

“i know that you know. i wonder why you’re shying away.” seonghwa’s lips immediately connected with yours. you blinked your eyes rapidly as you tried to process the situation. you couldn’t hold back. his lips felt great against yours. its like all the worries that have been piling up in you have been washed away from a simple kiss.

who knew you’d get this close to your mysterious roommate? its a drastic start to a good relationship nonetheless.

[slowly-writing]

Cheetos

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Requested by anon: maybe if you get a chance....... jj is obsessed with cheetos right? what about asking her out using cheetos somehow

You spend a lot of time paying attention to what makes JJ happy. Probably too much time, but that's besides the point. You’ve only needed to act on this once and what worked oddly enough, was a bag of cheetos. You found out by accident one day. You were on the plane home from a case, you’d lost a child and JJ was beating herself up over it.

“JJ, you’ve gotta eat something. I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday,” you beg but she shakes her head.

“I’m not hungry.” her response is short and you sigh, walking over to the kitchen area on the jet and grabbing the first thing you see, a bag of cheetos, and placing them on her lap.

“Now I’m not going anywhere until you eat those, so we can either sit here and stare at each other for the remainder of this 5 hour flight, or you can eat the damn chips and I’ll leave you alone,” you say firmly, planting yourself in the seat across from her. You expect her to snap, maybe even throw the bag at you, but to your surprise she smiles. It’s a small one but it’s there, and then she opens the bag and eats it all.

You stored that knowledge away for a rainy day, which seems to be happening right now. She’s been moody all day. She didn’t acknowledge any of you when she walked in, simply sitting at her desk and glaring at her paperwork. The team had been speculating all day as to what could be bothering her. Reid spit out a bunch of fats that just confused you and when Morgan mentioned her period he got smacked by both you and Emily. Emily suggested a fight with her “secret” boyfriend and everyone agreed that was probably it.

At the mention of Will you retreated into your own head. You being in love with JJ was about as much of a secret as the fact that she was in a relationship. The only difference was you knew everyone was aware of your poorly hidden crush, everyone but JJ.

Deciding you no longer wanted to talk to the team you walked over to JJ’s desk, hoping to be able to cheer her up.

“Hey, JJ. You wanna grab lunch?” you ask tentatively, hoping not to anger her more. It seems you’ve failed as her glare turns from her desk towards you.

“And why would I want to do that?” she snaps and your eyes go wide. You stumble back a few steps as if her words have hurt you, which they obviously couldn’t. At least not physically.

“Oh I….nevermind,” you trail off, locking your gaze on the floor and rushing to your desk. You’ve never been more grateful that your’s and JJ’s desks were on opposite sides of the room. With the way they were positioned and the amount of people flowing in and out from their breaks she couldn’t see you looking like a kicked puppy.  Unfortunately the rest of the team could and their looks of pity only made you feel worse. You quickly open your desk drawer, setting your laptop inside and taking a bag of cheetos out. You grab your bag and make your way out of the bullpen, setting the snack on JJ’s desk while you pass it as quietly as you can. In your effort to avoid eye contact you miss the soft smile she sends after you.

xxxxx

Her anger doesn’t last long, and she does make sure to apologize to you. You brush it off, stating that everyone has bad days and you both move on. The team finally has a break in cases and with your newfound freedom have gathered for family game night. You’re all huddled into Garcia’s small living room playing a truly vicious game of monopoly. Spencer was the banker, having been banned for using statistics to win every round, but he was enjoying watching the chaos. Garcia had little to no strategy. She bought the property that matched her “aesthetic” and nothing else. Hotch silently watched and strategically bought what others needed, selling it to them for a higher price. Rossi and Morgan bought what they thought would make them the most money. You bought a few properties, but mostly just sat back and watched while the others fought it out.  Emily almost always played way too aggressively and bankrupted herself buying every property she landed on. You’re pretty sure it was just to make Reid angry though, he always got frustrated and told her how it was statistically improbable that she would win like that to which she responded, “improbable. Not impossible.”

Morgan was in the lead this week with JJ in dead last. Emily had already lost, but everyone else besides falling between the two.

“Alright little mama, you're up,” the smirk on Margans face as he hands JJ the dice makes you roll your eyes. He’s ridiculously cocky, but unfortunately it’s one of the things you love about him. JJ takes a deep breath before rolling a three and landing on Morgan’s property, subsequently bankrupting her.

“Aw no! Better luck next time!” Garcia’s words would sound condescending from anyone else, but from her they sound sincere.

“Thanks Pen,” JJ says before slouching in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest.

“If it makes you feel better, you lasted longer than me,” Emily offers and JJ’s pout deepens.

“An aardvark would last longer than you,” JJ grumbles, causing everyone to laugh before turning back to the game. You nudge JJ with your elbow slyly handing her the Cheetos you’d brought when she looks your way. Her pout instantly disappears and she’s laughing, gratefully accepting the bag with a wide smile. You smile as well, feeling accomplished having cheered her up, even if it was over something silly.

xxxxx

You noticed JJ’s been a bit down lately. Not mean, not angry, just sad. She stays to herself, and when she does engage in conversation she’s quiet and closed off. Everyone has tried to talk to her about it, but she just shrugs it off as being tired or sick, but you know it’s more.

It’s just the two of you left in the bullpen, everyone else having retreated off to their Friday evening plans, or lack thereof in Reid’s case. When you look over at her she’s staring off into space and you debate asking her what’s wrong. Your internal debate leads you not to, she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to talk. You’re going to leave her be when you remember your secret weapon.

Smiling to yourself you grab a bag of Cheetos out of your desk and make your way over to her whisper her name to draw her attention.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” She asks and you send her a soft smile.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, setting the bag on her desk. She stares at it for a moment and you go to turn away, stopping when she grabs your arm.

“Wait. I…” she trails off, searching your eyes for the answer to a question she hasn’t even asked yet. “Why?”

“Why what?” You prod gently, genuinely confused on what she means.

“Whenever I’m upset, you’re always there with Cheetos and a smile, no matter how mean I’ve been to you. Why?” She clarifies and you shrug slightly, looking to the floor to avoid eye contact.

“Oh, uh. I figured out that they’re your favorite, and it always seems to cheer you up. I just want you to be happy,” you say and she stares again.

“Why?” You roll your eyes, amused at the one word replies.

“JJ, I’m really gonna need more words from you if you want to hold a conversation,” you tease and she smiles.

“Why do you want me to be happy?” you start to answer and she cuts you off, “and don’t say it’s because we’re friends. You and I both know you don’t do this stuff for Emily or Spence. I want to know why you’re really doing this.”

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time now,” you say simply. “The rest of the team figured it out months ago, I’m surprised you hadn’t yet.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She sounds like she’s in awe, and you're shocked by the fact that she truly didn’t seem to know.

“Well, you’re with Will. As much as I want to be with you, I’d rather you be happy. If he makes you happy, then I’ll settle for being your friend who gives you Cheetos when you’re sad,” you say, with a self deprecating laugh, “as long as you’re happy.”

“How did you know that?” She asks in shock and you laugh for real.

“JJ, you’re not as sneaky as you’d like to think. We’ve all known since a week after we got back from New Orleans, but you were happy so I didn’t say anything.”

“But what about you?” You shrug.

“What about me?”

“You seem to be only concerned about my happiness. What about yours?” JJ asks, stepping closer and taking your hand. “Y/n, Will and I broke up last week. I realized it wasn’t him I liked, just the idea of him. I’m actually….in love with someone else.”

“JJ I really want you to be happy but I don’t think I can handle the emotional whiplash I’ll get if you say someone else right now. So just tell me straight up. Do I have a chance?” You ask, heart beating a mile a minute. Whatever the answer is, your relationship is about to change forever.

“Yes dummy, you have a really good chance,” she says before pulling you into a kiss. It’s everything you imagined and so much more, but it ends quickly as JJ starts giggling.

“What? What’s so funny?” you’re unable to hold back your smile at the joy on her face. Her smile is infectious, and you could stare at it for the rest of time. The next words out of her mouth have you joining in on the laughter

“I can’t believe Cheetos brought us together.”

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

CM tag list: @reidingandwriting

[snacc-noir]

Unseal and Reveal pt2

Ao3

Part 1

Adapted from this post

Summary:

Adrien asks Marinette to fake date him after his father finds a pink ‘love note’ containing just her name on it

— but it was really the emergency note Ladybug gave him in case he needed to know her identity

Adrien has screwed up. 

But before anything begins, he’d like to make it very clear that he’s only ever had good intentions, believable smiles, and incredible lying ability – no matter what his friends say (“You once told Alya you had a great dentist so Marinette wouldn’t be suspicious”), because he’s kept the fact he’s Chat Noir under wraps and no one has been the wiser. 

Then again, Chat Noir is stylish, handsome, incredibly dressed, insanely hilarious, im(pecc)ably ripped, totally— 

Yeah, so Adrien just can’t live up to that (If it came down to it, he’d totally fall in love with himself if circumstances allowed.), and thus his identity is pretty secure , unlike his self-esteem on a good day. 

Specifically, today. 

Because he has screwed up.  

So yes, he’s somehow the best and worst liar ever, which probably likens to how it isn’t his secret identity that he Accidentally (three underlines for ‘accidentally’) reveals, but, uh, someone else’s. 

Ladybug’s. 

He knows Ladybug’s identity.  

But hey! Hey— remember, her idea. It was never him who suggested the ‘let’s write our names on letters in case we need to know in an emergency’, as that was definitely her. 

He’s screwed everything up, but it was definitely her. 

“Did you know? ” 

“Duh,” his kwami’s gravel voice says, “I know everything.” 

Adrien’s hands are rousing his hair so much at this point he might expose himself as Chat Noir if anyone went by his lean windows. “You knew this whole time!? That Ladybug is– That she’s– That—”  

All air escapes him in a corrupt elongated syllable. He flops on his Extra King size bed with silk sheets and fluffed pillows, almost knocking his model agency’s branded hydro-flask onto the desk adjacent with three exorbitant monitor screens. Oh, how difficult his life is.  

“You’re so pathetic.” 

He is.  

“This is hilarious.” 

It is not.  

‘“What am I supposed to do, Plagg?! Call her? ‘Hey love of my life, it’s me Adrien, but you also know me as Chat Noir. I accidentally found out your identity and long story short, my household thinks we’re dating and wants you over for dinner. Are you up for fake-dating and not killing me, please?” 

His kwami skulls a camembert roll. “I’m down for that idea.” 

Adrien pegs a sock. 

“How are you so calm?” 

“I shrugged in the face of dinosaur extinction. Your damsel in distress crisis – you’re the damsel, by the way – and ‘oohhh no, I’m so in love’ hullabaloo is nothing.” 

Adrien’s frown deepens. “I don’t sound like that.” 

“You do. Your voice goes like eee .” 

“What? No it doesn’t” 

“You’re right, it’s more like ahhh . ” 

The heat in Adrien’s acid eyes smarten. He crosses his arms, huffing in a way he hasn’t since early childhood, and glares at his ceiling. “I’m done talking to you.” 

He isn’t, of course, as there’s only one person in his life he can complain to about his array of #RelatableTeenBoy issues, like ditching your favourite topic of Physics one class to cater to a Giant Baby akuma (again) and being late due to lack of places to change into your skin-tight cat suit (you know; just those little things). And by Hawk Moth’s insufferable menacing he isn’t letting that outlet fall from under him. He needs to clear his thoughts, because believe him, there is a lot to sift, and it doesn’t help when part of this whole catastrophe has left him with the knowledge that— 

“Marinette is Ladybug!” 

Plagg has moved to Adrien’s three-panelled computer desk and is clicking through something. “I’m so glad you’ve caught up.” 

“And if she’s Ladybug, that means,” he goes on, white overshirt sleeves now uneven as he animates his words with a pillow, “she was just saying to me – to Chat – she was in love with him to save her identity! And there’s another boy she’s in love with! And–! And I might know who it is!” 

“Who?” Plagg asks, the volume juxtaposing his welder’s. 

“I said 'might’.” 

The keys click louder. “You mean because you know Ladybug in real life you could have met him before? Or you actually know him?” 

“I don’t know! I just know that Marinette’s… She’s in love with another guy.” The earlier exhilaration drains and his chest feels hollow and soul-sucking. “Wait– I can’t ask her to be my fake-girlfriend!” 

The destructive god scrolls through the itemised shopping cart to double-check his fromage orders without any fear of his owner noticing. Well you obviously don’t have a choice. Your dad wants her over for dinner. Besides, it’s Ladybug, remember? She’ll do anything to help a friend out.” 

Ladybug. 

Marinette. 

Of course.  

There are still many things that don’t add up (Multimouse: just how?) but of course. 

He can’t risk his own identity and hers to his father. He must keep the façade up. And if that mean s falling on his knees in front of who unarguably should be the most glorified woman in the world, crying to her to please just be his fake – very much, but unfortunately fake – girlfriend.  

He will. 

He’ll do it right now. 

- 

“I can’t believe you chickened out.” 

Walks to school, even with the cost of waking up earlier, are always more refreshing than drives in cold silence. The freedom here is less pale, and he can hiss at Plagg all he wants with only the dignity loss of onlookers noticing him crankily talking to himself. 

“Oh wait, yes I can. Because you’re a coward~. ” 

“I did not ‘chicken out’,” Adrien snaps. “And I’m no coward. I just— I need to speak to her in person instead. This way, she didn’t have to receive an unwanted call so late.” 

 “You mean six?” 

He huffs. “Marinette needs all the sleep she can get.” He pokes the creature back into his overshirt. “She’s always so busy. Even you’ve seen her collapse in class. Wait—!” 

The only one that waits is himself, columned with the line of trees ahead, locked in the interval of his soap opera as his audience darts for a shiny rock near a fire hydrant. 

“Because she’s Ladybug too! Of course! Of course! This makes so much sense! She’s so tired and overworked! It’s no wonder she’s all over the place – in the best of ways, I mean, she’s literally adorable when she’s frantic. Wait, have I always thought that? Have I always seen Marinette as the cutest thing ever? Her spluttering is so endearing. And if she’s already so tired, I can’t make her fake date me, too! She’s already so stressed! I’d literally be the scum of the earth if I even dare—” 

Plagg is staring at him with flat interest. Humbly aware of his judgement, Adrien swallows, letting the air untense and clams his hands – eager to narrate his animated allegory – in his pockets in strife to get a grip.  

He sighs. 

“What if I mess it up, Plagg?” 

He inventories his new rock in Adrien’s satchel. A hymn of silence roots in the place of what should be a snide remark. But there is no fed-up comment, just a kwami wriggling under his overshirt out of sight and a solemn voice that issues from it,  

“Kid, you’re partners. You work together. You forgive each other. You trust each other. And if Ladybug trusts you,” he sticks his head out a little more, “find it in you to trust yourself. You won’t mess this up if you put her and her identity’s safety first, which I know you will, because you love her and you’re a great hero.” 

Adrenaline dampening, Adrien smiles.  

“Thanks, Plagg.” 

- 

Marinette has never believed in bad luck until she met Chat Noir (fifty Mr Pigeon akumatisations this year with a feather allergy? The next lucky charm is going to be an Epi-pen) and for a while, she didn’t believe in good luck, even with being Ladybug. 

But that was then. Back then, meaning like, ten minutes ago before she was invited to stay back after PE by Adrien. 

Right now, though? Right now, she’s decided she’s going to hand-sew a bedazzled shirt embossed with, “Goddess of Luck” to wear while Ladybug on patrol (and on the back, a quote she woke up to on Instagram this morning: ‘“can also kick ass” – Adrien Agreste’ (she took ten screenshots when he posted that)), because Marinette has good luck.   

“You’ll be doing me a huge favour,” the ass-kicking quoter says on an afternoon she has not planned to receive the most exciting request of her life. 

And you know what she says? 

You know what the stuttering girl who may as well trademark the word ‘GAH’ she falls that much, says? 

You’ll never guess. 

No really, you won’t. 

Because turns out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than just accomplished. 

So what if she thrones the winning title of a Gabriel fashion comp? What even matters of being class president and an all-around likable person? Who takes notice of another fashion mogul inviting you to live in New York because of your talent? ––An invitation you had to decline because, you know, being Paris’ zero-pay superheroine has a sprinkle more of importance. And oh, did she mention she’s Ladybug? Because she’s Ladybug. A superhero.  

But none of that matters right now. 

“I’d be happy to help.” 

Because she’s said yes.  

She—Marinette McStutter Dupain-Cheng—has said yes with her mouth (not vague hand animations over blubbering nonsense) to Adrien, and although her muscles are locked with their key over the Eiffel tower (and the tiny detail that her thoughts are screaming so much she can’t hear a thing of his relief and numerous ‘thank you’s), she’s still said yes!  

Screw every other accomplishment. She’s said yes to being Adrien’s fake girlfriend. 

Ladybug? Nah, that’s Mrs. Fake Agreste to you.  

Good luck is real.  

Okay but sure, ‘Fake girlfriend’ doesn’t exactly live up to ‘Very real girlfriend’, but being a fake isn’t that bad! She’s seen Lila do it every day for months – oh, hang on, no actually the term ‘fake’ has very negative and huge implications, then. However, in Marinette’s heavenly-blessed case, ‘fake’ means she’s doing a very big favour for a friend and is going to get more time with Adrien – just to name a few positives.  

“Seriously Marinette, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.” 

‘Oh honey, I’m the lucky one. ’ 

“It’s– It’s no problem! Yeah! Really, I’ll come to dinner, no problem! It can’t be too hard. I can be your girlfriend! Eugh– Pretend girlfriend. It’s not hard being in love with you! I mean– Ugh!” 

The monstrosity that is the never-shutting-up hole in her face is blocked off by frantic hands, stifling the last of her eloquent groan. But peering up, she realises she really has underestimated how much this means to Adrien, because he looks like he’s poised on a cliff of ecstasy ready to fall – eyes verdant, big, and lushed over with a hue of moisture that twinkles, and a smile so bright and toothy the sunlight hollowing out the remaining shade of the PE stadium glints off it.  

In fact, her mess of a speech is such a compliment to Adrien that her locked-limbed body is suddenly engulfed by his. Startled in delightful senses of the word, she squeaks, and he quickly pulls away, face a few rose tones darker than before as his hands twitch at his side unsurely. 

“Uhh, I guess we have to get planning.” 

She watches in transfixed attraction as Adrien picks both their schoolbags up, finally blurting (without any squeak, she may add), 

“Y–Yes. We do.” 

(she didn’t say any stutter, so shut up.) 

“Would your father let you come over right now since school’s almost finished?” 

He casts a look to the exit thoughtfully. His flawless side-profile in high resolution before her, she sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in an unsettling familiar way, as if his whole charisma shifts to someone else’s.  

They do need to plan; to run away together, where only they share this odd secret - a place alone together where they'll look each other eye-to-eye and practice their sonnets of love to construct a believable facade for his father-

“It’s more fun sneaking to my girlfriend’s house, isn’t it?” 

That time, she squeaks.

And comes to the daunting realisation:

Marinette is screwed. 

[livingmybestfictionallife]

As If Nothing Happened

Summary: Colson and the reader have been in each others’ lives since before middle school, secretly dated for two years, and suddenly vanished from one another. Years later, they accidentally reconnect and the pair share what has been on their minds since their falling out.

 The smell of liquor mixed with cheap cigarettes filled the air as (Y/N) watched the digital ball spiral around the board before her once more. All around were people--moving, talking, leaning against walls, pacing hurriedly past her, sitting too close, slurring their words, laughing with friends...living. Of the years (Y/N) had been coming to Las Vegas as a sort of annual tradition, she never came to gamble; she came to see the people, because even it's for the smallest of moments, on October 23rd, she needed to be distracted from her own life.

For nine years on October 22nd and 23rd, (Y/N) would make the trip to Vegas on her own, sit in casinos alone, play roulette, and think about the countless possible outcomes her life could have taken if only she could have changed something that happened ten years ago. So far, this year was much like every other: people continued living around her while a part of herself died over and over each year she came to this forsaken city of sin.

Absentmindedly, she placed a small bet on red-even, and sighed as she watched the digital ball spin around yet again. How many times? she thought to herself as her eyes trailed the ball. How many times will I come here? How many times can I stand to watch this ball go round and round throughout the years? The agony over her regret wasn't something she felt she could ever let go of despite how desperately she knew she needed to. Just as the ball earned her an extra two dollars of wealth, (Y/N) noticed a woman wearing next to nothing walk up to her and place a drink beside her arm without making eye contact. The icy green liquid surrounded a bright red maraschino cherry, and she wondered why her favorite drink was sitting before her. If she ever decided to drink on one of her Vegas trips, it was normally a sad drink like wine. It's not uncommon for people to turn their sorrows into vices, but she didn't want to ever be the woman crying over a vodka cranberry or a piña colada. If she let a tear slide over a Riesling, blush, or merlot, that was a different story. In this case, she didn't want to ruin the pleasant memories she had while drinking apple martinis with the sorrow she had in her heart that seemed to grow exponentially on these two days of the years.

"Excuse me," she called out just before the woman was too far away to regain her attention. "I didn't order this," (Y/N) explained once her eyes met those of the waitress.

"From the man at the bar," was the only response (Y/N) received before the woman sauntered away to attend to another patron. That sums it up, she thought to herself, as if there's not about fifty men at the bar. It wasn't that (Y/N) was interested in seeing who had bought her a drink, or even taking in the appearances of the men gathered at the bar not far behind her, rather the curiosity as to how someone happened to pick that drink to send her. After exhaling a sharp breath, she allowed her head to swivel on her neck and she swiftly took one glance towards the bar. Unfortunately for her, that quick glance was all too much, since a pair of crystal blue eyes stared at her from beneath the scraggly bleach blonde hair that overlapped them. Even across the room his eyes were piercing, and she could feel her stomach convulse into angry knots.

Him? What is he doing here? After all these years, why now?

(Y/N) tried not to watch as the man slowly rose from the bar stool he'd been reclining in, and made his way towards her. She came here to be alone, that was always the plan, that's how it had always been, and now, after damn near ten years, he's here. As he closed the gap between himself and the woman he'd spotted, as if by fate, from across the room, he gazed hesitantly down over her. Nearly a decade had passed since he'd last seen her--at least in person--and she was still as beautiful as the last time he'd laid eyes on her.

"Can we talk?" his voice was soft and low as he tried not to draw the attention of passersby. (Y/N) bit her lip as her heart turned to lead and plummeted to her knees at how soothing she still found that voice to be. Feeling as if she had no other option but to agree, (Y/N) nodded, but she did all she could to keep her eyes from meeting those of the man she knew as Colson, but the world know as Machine Gun Kelly.

After she'd cashed out of the roulette game, she hopelessly followed him as he tried to find a private place in the middle of a casino in Las Vegas. She knew it was damn near impossible, but Colson had always been...well, Colson. If he was determined enough to do something, damn it he was going to. Today however, he decided not to be stubborn, and since he quickly noticed (Y/N) becoming impatient, he led her to a fountain outside of the casino and sat down on the edge without a word. (Y/N) placed herself beside him and stared at their shadows on the ground before them.

There had been so many times in her life that she'd stared at her and Colson's shadows as they stretched across the pavement because she'd been unable to look him in the eyes: in middle school just after he'd gotten into a fight to defend her about some stupid, inaccurate rumor and she felt ashamed, the summer before she started high school after moving to Cleveland when she learned Colson had also moved to Cleveland and was relieved to have a friend, in high school after him and his girlfriend were arguing over something stupid and (Y/N) had to hold her tongue about the feelings she had for him creeping into her chest, and the day she told him she was pregnant.

Long moments of silence passed without anything more than each of them occasionally raising their drinks to their lips and scanning the crowd around them. Neither of the pair could stand to look the other in the eye. It was too painful for either of them to see the other without thinking of the countless possibilities and outcomes that had plagued each of their minds for the past nine years.

"So, how have you been?" he asked in a voice so small compared to how big he had become.

"Fine," (Y/N) responded in just as soft of a tone as Colson's. "You seemed to have accomplished everything you used to dream about," she said as a way to try and break through the tension that surrounded them.

"Yeah," Colson sighed as he gave in and allowed himself to sneak a glimpse of her profile, "almost everything." Another long silence passed where the pair that had once been inseparable struggled to exist around each another. He would stare at his drink and she would look to the shadows, each subconsciously drawing themselves to their individual flavors darkness that swallowed them the moment they left the other's life; yet they each held their breath in hips that the other would speak again.

A steady stream of air escaped Colson's lips as he tried to bring about the courage to say the word's he'd been dying to relay to (Y/N) had he ever been blessed with the chance to meet her again. Unfortunately, she found courage before he did.

"What are you doing here, Col?" The words she felt as if she'd been choking on for the past ten minutes had finally escaped her mouth. She could tell her voice was hurt, and she didn't intend on hiding any of that pain. In fact, hearing the weakness in her tone sent a lump into Colson's throat, and he quickly brought his eyes to look at her. She'd always been strong; it was something he loved about her, but after the past nine years of thinking, he'd realized it was something he'd taken advantage of. Just because she was strong didn't mean she couldn't be vulnerable, but it was in her moments of vulnerability that Colson could feel his heart break. As his eyes fell over (Y/N), he couldn't help but ache. She sat beside him, slumped over, her back completely curved with no posture to her other than the obvious desire to crumble into a fetal position.

"I- uh, I was going to come next year, but I know I'm not going to be in the States then, so I came on the nine year anniversary instead of the tenth." Softly, his fingertips found her arm and he gently traced his fingers along her skin. (Y/N) swallowed her pain with a gulp of her martini and pulled back her tears.

"I didn't realize you were that sentimental." The words nearly fell from her lips in a hiss hat it not been for them getting caught in her throat.

"(Y/N), I-"

"I have been here every year, Colson," she sighed heavily as she turned her head and body to face him completely. "Where were you? LA? New York? Half-way across the world? You know, there was a time that you made it seem like you wanted me to be there, and then the second things changed, you were gone!" The tears she'd desperately tried to keep from spilling began to fall slowly from her eyes and crated agonizing streaks of sorrow for him to look at.

"I wanted it more than anything else!" Colson's restraint snapped as he took (Y/N)'s face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "I wanted that child, (Y/N). I wanted to have you and our baby--I wanted our family! When we lost him, I just, I didn't know what to do or how to react. I felt you pushing me further and further away every day and I didn't know what to do."

"So you drove to LA and became someone else?" (Y/N) asked with an emptiness in her voice that he hadn't heard since she repeatedly told him "I'm fine," every time he asked about her mental state after losing their son.

"I asked you to come with me! I told you we could start over, we could try again if that's what we wanted!"

"I was nineteen, Colson."

"So are you saying you wouldn't have wanted to have a child?" (Y/N) could feel Colson's walls rising as he misinterpreted her words as rejection. "You wanted him when it was an accident," he immediately tried to counter, "what would have been different?"

"Nothing!" (Y/N) snapped as she brought herself to look into his eyes for the first time since she saw him at the bar. "Don't you see that I have no idea that anything would have happened differently? I had just, suddenly, became inhospitable for our unborn son. Who was I to think that any other child we could conceive would be different?" Her words were firm and felt louder than they were as they left her body. (Y/N) shook as the fear she'd held onto for nine years escaped her lips. The truth that hung from the strands of sentences she'd blurted out were difficult for Colson to grasp, but he did his damnedest to try to hold onto each syllable that came from her mouth, each momentary glance she would give him, and every detail of her face he could gather. "I just needed you. I need you, Col, not to move or start over or become something we weren't. I just needed you to tell me it wasn't my fault, that I didn't fuck everything up, that it wasn't because of me that our son was dead, that I wasn't the reason we left one another's lives, but you were gone."

Colson tried to stretch his fingers down (Y/N)'s arm and take her hand in his, but he could feel her muscles tense beneath her skin, so he stopped and lightly laid his hand on her forearm. "(Y/N), I never wanted to make you feel like-"

"Look, it's been almost ten years since we've seen each other. You don't have to do or say anything because you saw me here today. Honestly, sometime I think that after everything we shared together--the loneliness, our friendship, our relationship, all of it--it doesn't matter, because in the end...the way it ended...it was as if nothing happened."

"(Y/N), please don't say that." Colson's voice was weak--hardly a whisper drifting through the small space that separated them--and he knew her eyes wouldn't meet his again. He wanted to stand up and wrap his arms around her, to pull her into his chest and keep her from walking away, but he didn't know what he could say, or if there was anything he could say to keep her with him.

"Thanks for the drink, Colson," (Y/N) sighed as she walked away from the man she once loved--the man she, on some level, will always love--and down the Las Vegas Strip. Colson's eyes helplessly followed as (Y/N) as she slowly disappeared from his sight until she became just another figure hidden among the sea of people before him. The moment he'd lost sight of her gait amongst the crowd, he ducked his head into his hands, and watched his tears begin to soak the pavement below him.

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Ornithopobia

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The boys help Y/N get over her fear of birds. I’m sorry if this sucks lol (This takes place pre-Birthday Week)

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night | Silence is Golden? | Birthday Date Night

Masterlist

Everyone has that one thing that makes them squeamish or afraid. It’s natural. Ironically Tom, who has played Spiderman for the five years of his life is afraid of spiders. Harry gets spooked with loud unforseen noises, Harrison is afraid of snakes, and Tuwaine is terrified of mirrors in the dark. For Y/N, birds were her greatest fear, so imagine to her surprise when she finds out the boys bought a couple of chickens.

“You what?!” Y/N freaks out after she sees Tom holding a pair of chickens in both hands.

“C’mon love. We ran out of eggs, so instead of going to the store, Predator and Ranger can lay them in the backyard.” He reasons, adorning his boyish smile that he knows Y/N could never resist.

“But live chickens?!” Y/N repeats as she looks at the two clucking and bobbing their heads. She cringes in fear as she sees the chickens make eye contact with her. Her toes curl, and her arms wrap around her own body. “This is probably a bad time to tell you, I have a serious fear with birds.” She confesses through her teeth.

Tom laughs at her response, thinking it was a joke until he saw how Y/N’s face did not change. “Oh my god seriously?! You’re afraid of birds?!” He asked.

Y/N raises her eyesbrows, gesturing as if he should have known that. “Would I be acting like this if I was?”

“But why? I mean look at their cute, wittle faces. How can you be scared of these babies?” Tom responds in his baby voice as he pays his attention to the chickens.

“Look at them!” Y/N squeals. “The eyes. The beak. The claws.”

“Darling, they’re harmless.” Tom responds, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah? Well so are spiders but I don’t see you manning up to them! Plus, did you know chickens are the descendants of T-Rex?” She questioned him as if the viable information would frighten him.

Tom threw his head back, laughing at Y/N’s responses. “Spiders are a different story! You should have seen that tarantula they brought on the press tour. Y/N, chickens wont attack you.”

“Yes they will.”

“No they wont.”

“Yes, they w—”

“Look, why don’t we make a bet.” Tom inquires. “If I can get you to over come your fear of birds and hold Predator or Ranger by the end of Quarantine.... I get to name our first child.” He smiles brightly.

Y/N laughs at his proposal, not believing what he’s offering. “We’re not even engaged yet!” She exclaims. “Let alone, pregnant!!”

“Not yet, you aren’t!” He says excitedly. “But one of these days, I am going to put a ring on that finger and we are going to have beautiful babies. Im just planning ahead!” Y/N gives him a knowing look, which only made Tom shrug his shoulders and sigh in defeat. “But I guess if we’re talking about prizes now...I get to pick the movies for Movie Night for the next year with no complaints, but I still get to name our first child.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, smiling at the thought Tom had put into their future. The fact that he had already planned having her in his future with a kids, made her heart swell even more. “Ok, deal. You got till the end of lockdown.”

As the month passes by, Tom tried his best to slowly introduce the chickens to his girlfriend. His first attempt started with getting Y/N comfortable with a feather. He figured baby steps with introducing a harmless, soft part of a chicken would ease her uneasiness. “See baby, look how soft Ranger’s feather is. It almost tickles.” He tries to tickle her with the feather, but Y/N slowly backed away, cringing in fear. “C’mon darling. It’s just a feather. It’s not going to bite.” He laughs. Y/N shakes away the fear as she holds the feather smiling and admiring the lightness and fluffiness.

“Hey, this isn’t so bad.” She laughs nervously, playing around with the feather. Tom nods, feeling proud of the accomplishment he’s made. Baby steps, he thought to himself, knowing hes this much closer to naming their future child.

Unfortunately, it was short lived when Harrison decided to sneak up on Y/N while she was admiring Ranger’s feather. She squeal and jumped, as she made her way back up to their shared bedroom.

“Way to go Mate.” Tom says sarcastically. “I was this close too.”

“What?! I thought she was joking!” Harrison defended himself, laughing at the fact that Y/N really did have a fear of birds. “C’mon she craves fried chicken almost every day. There’s no way anyone would believe it!”

Tom continued to build up Y/N’s confidence with birds through the lockdown period. He let her watch them from a very safe distance, introduced her to baby chicks, and the more exposure she got, the more Y/N started to relax. But the real test came when a pigeon flew into their house. Will Smith was the name for the newest member of the Holland Home. Y/N and Tom froze when it started to chill in the living room. “It’s okay darling. See he’s just minding his own business. Look.”

Tom gets up and starts filming Will for his insta story, showing him the way out to freedom. He constantly looks back at Y/N to gauge her reaction, and was happy to see her smiling and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it. After all, when do you ever see your boyfriend escort a pigeon out of the living room during Quarantine Season? “Good work. Love your work. Great form.” Tom encourages Will as he bobs his way out. A slight mishap happens when Will takes flight in the kitchen, which made Y/N squeal, her fear flooding in a tiny bit but not enough to make her run for the hills like last time. As the pigeon flies out to freedom, Tom comes back to the living room. “See a mangy little pigeon was nothing.”

Y/N lets out a slight giggle, as she makes room for her boyfriend. “Yeah...Will Smith wasnt too bad.” She admits. “Though I must say the commentary did help.” Y/N pauses to think for a second. “Actually, I think Im ready to hold Predator or Ranger right now.”

Tom lifts his head up with surprise. “What?! Seriously?!” He asks. Y/N nods at his response. “Only if you want to Y/N. I don’t want to force you to do anything that’s uncomfortable.”

“This...sounds like a totally different conversation right now.” Y/N laughs at her implication of the conversation.

Tom rolls his eyes, looking at her with seriousness. “I mean it Y/N. Don’t force yourself, if you don’t think youre ready to hold them.”

“We can start with petting them, and if I feel really good...I’ll try to hold them.” Y/N plans out as Tom grabs her hand to head her to the chicken’s den.

“Lads..today is a memorable day in history. Thats right, get your cameras out because Y/N is going to touch Predator and Ranger for the very first time.” Tuwaine annouces, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice even louder.

Harrison and Harry hold out the two chickens, who calmly lay in their arms. Tom is right beside Y/N, hilding her hand for support. “Are you ready gents?! Y/N pet them chickens!” Tuwaine yells out.

Slowly Y/N approaches the two chickens, letting her hand out. Predator and Ranger cock their heads up as they see the hand coming towards them. They don’t bother to move and remain very still. Once she made contact, Y/N lets out a slight squeal as she rubs down their sides. Realizing they neither jerked or flapped their wings, Y/N had grown more confident with her chicken handling. “Wow..they’re actually not too bad. They’re such cute little things.” She says.

“Do you wanna hold one?” Harry asks as he starts to lend the Predator to Y/N. The moment he’s about to lay Predator on Y/N’s open arms, she starts to flap her wings uncontrollably and make a noise. Ultimately it made Y/N cringe in fear as she ran to the door. “Well at least that she touched them.” Harry encourages Tom.

Tom shrugs his shoulders, as he laughs at the response. “She touched the chicken and that’s all that matters.” Tom thinks for a moment wondering if it counted as an automatic win. “Wait Y/N” he yells running after her. “Does this mean I can name our child Peter Benjamin Holland?”

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow @joyleenl @kihyunwifes @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @marvelobsessedteenager @viwihere