#sorry if the colours are a little eye piercing it looked good on my laptop 😭

[phatkochi]

A quick doodle of my Eve Gajinka

[helloalycia]

lose you [three] // leigh shaw

summary: just when you think Leigh is finally listening to you and giving you space, she happens to do the opposite

warning/s: mentions of loss and implications of death/grief

author's note: so this is the final part! this was fun to write ngl – i hope you like the conclusion! :)

part one | part two | masterlist | wattpad

"I think the colours look great like this, don't you?" I asked Jules, pointing to the screen of her laptop

She hummed in agreement as she sipped her smoothie.

"Or maybe this...," I said, preoccupied with trying out something different. "Okay, hold on, let me see."

We were both sat in this smoothie place a few stores  down from her workplace, working on some more promotional material for another set of classes she was setting up.

"You know, we could easily do this at the studio," Jules commented in a knowing tone. "Or even at my house."

I glanced at her before looking back to the screen. "It's better this way."

She knew what I meant, so I knew I didn't need to elaborate. Ever since Leigh had finally gotten the hint and left me alone for the week, I'd been keeping away from her as much as I could, still trying to figure out what I was feeling. This also meant not going to her workplace or her house in case I bumped into her.

"So, you're not gonna tell me what happened between you and my sister?" Jules asked curiously, for the millionth time, leaning forward.

I scrunched my nose as I shook my head. "Not this time, Jules, sorry."

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. "Leigh won't say anything either, so that's no fun..."

Not knowing how to respond, I simply kept quiet and continued to play around with the colour palette of the designs I'd put together. Jules watched over me, inputting her ideas every now and then and explaining her 'vision', before our time was interrupted with her phone ringing.

"Hello," she answered it casually, before continuing to speak to whoever. "...No, I've got one... no need! I'll pick one up for you."

I gave her a sideways glance as she looked the other way quickly, as if hiding something.

Her voice lowered as she continued to speak to whoever. "Yes, we're here..." She sighed. "She's fine, Leigh."

I rolled my eyes as I looked back to the laptop, trying to distract myself.

"Okay, I'll see you soon, bye," Jules mumbled before hanging up and looking back to me.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of us speaking as I clicked away on her trackpad. Figuring she wouldn't speak, I chose to.

"Was that Leigh?"

Looking down at her smoothie awkwardly, Jules nodded. "Er, yeah."

I shot her a look. "You know you can have a normal conversation with her. She is your sister after all."

Jules ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I know, I just... I don't want to make you feel awkward."

"It's fine," I reassured her with a small smile, before looking to the screen. Unable to stop myself, I asked, "How is she?"

A pause, then: "She's good."

I nodded nonchalantly, though I was glad to hear. I wasn't heartless – I still cared about her. But my stubbornness, as Taylor liked to constantly point out, was keeping me from hearing Leigh out. Her words still rang clear in my ears, the implication louder than the words themselves. And then that made me angry all over again and I found myself in a constant cycle of needing space from Leigh and wanting to hear her out.

Trying to ignore my conflicting thoughts for the girl who wasn't even present, I continued to work on Jules' designs before she had to get back to work and so did I.

"Are you okay to come over tonight to finish those off?" she asked as I packed away my things.

I hesitated, chewing on my lip. The whole point was to avoid going to her house.

"I'll make sure Leigh isn't there," Jules promised, noticing my silence, before adding with a playful smile, "Or is that new promotion of yours too time-consuming for you to spend time with me?"

"You know that's not true," I told her with a suppressed laugh, before relaxing my shoulders and nodding slowly. "I... I guess I can come around for a little while."

"Only a few hours," she promised me.

I nodded. "Okay, sure. I guess I'll see you tonight, Jules."

She grinned. "Awesome! See you tonight."

—

I probably should have figured out that Jules was lying to me. I'd known her long enough to tell when she was playing me, but I must have been so distracted by everything that I failed to realise what she was doing until it was too late.

When I got to the Shaw residence that evening after dinner, Jules answered and let me in, promising that her sister and mum were out on a girls night so wouldn't bother us. That was the first major hint – Leigh hated spending 'girls night' with her mum.

Then, when I set my bag down in the living room, waiting for Jules to join me, I heard the front door slam shut.

Spinning around and staring into that direction of the house, I called after her. "Jules? You still here?"

Instead of Jules, Leigh stepped in the doorway, dressed in a jumper and joggers, hair messy but small smile on her lips. That's when I realised I'd been tricked.

"I'm out of here," I said instantly, grabbing my bag to go.

"No, please stay," she said pleadingly, taking a step forward, but stopping when she saw how much I didn't want to be near her right now.

"I can't believe you'd resort to such childish methods of trickery," I admitted with disbelief. "And just when I thought you were finally listening to me and giving me space."

She pressed her lips together firmly as I spoke, before saying, "You wouldn't have come if I'd called, Y/N. It was the only way to get you here."

"Of course I wouldn't have!" I said with frustration, hand on my bag strap tightening. "I didn't want to see you!"

"I know you didn't, that's why I left you tons of messages!" she exclaimed, before rolling her eyes bitterly. "Your stupid, love-struck assistant is clearly terrible at delivering said messages."

"You mean the assistant with the boyfriend?" I retorted with a glare.

Her eyebrows creased together with confusion. "She has a boyfriend?"

I groaned loudly before moving forward to leave. "I'm going."

Leigh's bitchiness dispersed as she realised what was happening. "Wait, Y/N– just wait!"

Ignoring her, I continued my approach to the door and pushed past her without sparing her a glance. I was afraid that if I did, I would say something I'd regret.

"Please!" she called after me. And I was a mere few centimetres from the door before she shouted, "I love you!"

I widened my eyes with surprise, wondering if I'd heard that right. Stopping in place, I turned around slowly and saw Leigh standing in the living room doorway with teary eyes and a quivering lip.

"I'm in love with you," she repeated, confirming my hearing. Green eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she continued, "I was stupid how I acted and I– I've treated you so horribly and you always put up with it. But not this time."

She paused, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as she raised a shaky hand to move her hair from her eyes.

Swallowing hard, she said, "I p–push people away and I've pushed so many friends away, but y-you never left. You stayed this whole time a–and I've already lost so much, but I can't take losing you. I c–can't lose you, Y/N."

Forgetting my anger for a moment, I felt my heart ache in my chest as Leigh broke down before me. I'd seen her at her worst before, but this was different. She was choosing to be vulnerable and that never came easy to her.

"Leigh, I'm not going anywhere," I said gently, frown on my lips. "We're in a fight right now and I'm angry, yeah, but I would never leave you. Not for good."

"You say that!" she snapped, clenching her fists as more tears streamed down her cheeks. "You say that, but then blocked calls and wanting space turns into leaving because you can't take it anymore. You can't take me anymore. And I can't take it, I can't take pushing you away. I can't lose you."

She clenched her jaw, eyes piercing through me with sadness and guilt and anger all at once.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, her voice softer and very unlike herself. "The kiss it– it scared me because I wanted to do it for a long time, but you're my best friend and best friends don't do that. So, I tried to forget about it, but I ended up blaming you in the process and it's not you who's at fault here, it's me. And because of that, you're going to hate me and leave and I'm going to be a–alone again and I can't do that again, n–not again, n–not–"

I drew closer to her and pulled her in for a hug, unable to take her hysterics any longer. It hurt too much, seeing her pour her truth out in such a volatile way that had clearly been building up for a while.

She cried as I held her close, pressing a kiss to her hair and rubbing her back slowly. I never meant for it to get like this. I didn't know that she was going through all of this turmoil and now I felt bad, even if she'd hate that I did.

"I'm not going anywhere, Leigh," I promised her, my own tears burning the lids of my eyes. "I swear. you're not going to lose me and I could never hate you. Don't even think that for one minute..."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I led her to the bench by the front door and held her close, not caring that her tears were soaking my shirt or that she was clinging so tightly that I would never be able to pry her off, not unless she let go by choice.

I wasn't sure how long we sat there, but her cries eventually turned into sniffles and her head found it's way onto my shoulder. My arms wrapped around her torso, still rubbing circles onto her back, and hers clung around my shoulders tightly.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered guiltily into my neck, her warm breath tickling the skin and sending shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard. "I know you are. I forgive you, Leigh."

She didn't say anything and I wondered why she was unable to let go and meet my eyes. Maybe it was easier to talk when we weren't looking at each other.

"I would never leave you, you know," I told her quietly, letting her know again. I'd let her know forever if it meant she'd believe me. "You can be such a bitch sometimes, but I put up with it because I love you, too."

She sighed. "But not like I love you."

I tried not to smile. "You're kidding, right? Of course like you love me. Why do you think I got so upset at your stupid date the other week?"

Finally pulling away from my neck, she faced me with confused eyes. "You said it was because I didn't reply to your messages."

I rolled my eyes. "It was because I thought that you didn't care about kissing me. I was scared that you didn't like me like that. That you thought you'd made a mistake." 

Her eyes flickered between mine, as if trying to understand what I was saying. Realisation passed through them as she stroked my neck with her finger, arms still laced around my shoulders.

"So, the kiss. You didn't– you don't hate me?"

I shook my head, squeezing her waist gently. "I don't. And if you'd given me a chance, I would've kissed you back. Properly. Like–" I sucked up a nervous breath. "Like you deserve."

She didn't say anything for a moment, eyes merely reading mine intimidatingly. For once, a rare instance between us, I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Now's your chance," she finally spoke, before capturing my bottom lip between hers in an instant.

Unlike last time, I got over my surprise quite quickly and closed my eyes, pulling her closer by the waist and returning the kiss. Her lips were soft and salty and addictive, and when she rested her hand on my chest to gently push me away after a moment, I immediately chased her lips down again, refusing to let her go so quickly. Not when I'd waited so long for this moment.

She gasped as I swiped my tongue across her bottom lip, asking for entry. Using that as opportunity, I slipped my tongue between her lips and met hers in the middle, revelling in the taste that was Leigh Shaw. It didn't go beyond that and that was okay, as I was too busy focusing on how perfect she fit next to me, my one hand on her waist and the other on the back of her neck.

Finally pulling apart for air, she rested her forehead against mine and I opened my eyes to be submerged in pools of green. Licking her lips, she breathed out slowly.

"I don't want to lose you," she admitted in a whisper.

Pushing her hair behind her ear, I rested my hand on her jaw and caressed it. "You won't. I told you. I'm not leaving you. Not now. Not ever. I promise."

She closed her eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

I realised she was probably thinking back to her late husband and I didn't blame her. She'd suffered through so much and I couldn't imagine the fears she had.

"I'll keep it for as long as I can," I told her, kissing her  forehead. "But know for sure that you won't be getting rid of me that easily."

She cracked a small smile through her teary eyes, nodding slightly. "I'll try to be less of a bitch."

"Hey, be as bitchy as you want," I told her playfully. "I'm not going anywhere, remember?"

She let out a small snort through her nose, barely a laugh, but it was music to my ears and it brought a smile to my lips. Finally opening her eyes, she looked to me with adoration and it made my heart beat a little faster.

"I love you," she said with the utmost sincerity.

I wiped away a stray tear of hers with the pad of my thumb and met her gaze. "I love you, too, Leigh."

Glassy eyes watched mine, content for the first time in a long time, before she pulled me in for a hug, tucking her head into my neck like it was her favourite spot in the world. I knew the feeling of her there was definitely mine.

"What do you want to do now?" I asked quietly, not wanting to break the peace we'd created.

"I'm really tired," she admitted, lips brushing my neck as she spoke.

I pressed a kiss to the side of her head, mumbling into her hair, "Let's get you to sleep then."

She hummed in agreement and I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd closed her eyes already.

"I want you to stay," she added. "To sleep with me."

Pausing, I tried not to laugh, which she realised and nudged me in the gut lightly.

"Not like that, idiot," she said, definitely giving me an eye roll even though I couldn't see her. "I mean, yes, eventually like that. If you want. But not now. Now, I just want you next to me."

Smile of adoration on my lips, I squeezed her gently. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I've got work in the morning. Early start."

She pulled away from me suddenly, frown on her lips and eyes flickering between mine disappointedly. I sighed, raising my hand and stroking her cheek.

"I'm kidding," I told her with a knowing look. "I mean, I do have work, but I'll stay if you want me to."

"Jerk," she mumbled, before standing up and pulling me up with her. "You're staying."

I kept ahold of her hand and intertwined our fingers, tugging her closer to me. She still seemed disgruntled from my joke, so I kissed her cheek, lingering for a second longer than usual, before smiling.

"Come on, grumpy pants."

She narrowed her eyes at me childishly, but continued to lead me upstairs and to her bedroom. As we walked, I remembered something.

"So, does Jules know about us? Since she helped you to trick me tonight?"

Leigh didn't bother flicking on the lights to her room when we entered, instead closing the door behind us and letting the streetlights from outside her window guide us to her bed.

"She knows we argued," she answered delicately. "I didn't know how to tell her about how I felt when I–" She sighed. "When I didn't even know how to tell you."

I nodded, not bothering to ask her about if she wanted to tell her tomorrow, or tell her mum tomorrow. Or if she wanted to wait and tell them later when we were settled into our relationship. I trusted her to talk to me when she was ready and there was no rush anyway.

"Jules is out with a friend tonight and my mum is working late," she explained their absence. "And you've slept over before so this is no different."

"True," I agreed.

A yawn escaped Leigh's lips and I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked when she stretched her arms and scrunched her face tiredly. When she finished, she opened her eyes and saw my expression.

"What's got you all smiley?" she asked with a quirked brow.

I shook my head dismissively as she grabbed some pyjama pants from her drawer. "You're too cute is all."

Groaning loudly, she said, "God, Y/N, don't do that. Don't be all couple-y already. Especially not when it's–"

"What?" I cut her off with amusement, as she threw the pants in my face. "Complimenting you?"

"Exactly," she said like it was obvious, before waving her hand with irritation. "Just take your pants off so we can go to sleep."

I chuckled. "Eager much?"

She groaned again, but I saw a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. As I changed out of my jeans, she got under the duvet and got comfortable. I joined her soon enough, just about pulling the duvet on top of me before she grabbed my arm and forced me to roll over and spoon her from behind.

I stifled a laugh as she entwined our hands, resting them on her waist, and sighed contently.

"So, guess I can't be little spoon tonight then?" I teased, making her kick me with her foot.

"My bed, my choice," she muttered, voice heavy with fatigue.

Settling in behind her, I put my leg between hers comfortably and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck where my head lay.

"I don't mind being the big spoon," I reassured her, though I knew it wouldn't make a difference. If Leigh wanted to be cuddled, that was the end of it.

It went quiet as I appreciated how pleasant it felt with her in my arms, her body pressed closely to mine and her self radiating a comforting warmth only she seemed to possess. I could definitely get used to this.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

She stopped, breathing out slowly. "Thanks for staying."

"Well, you asked so nicely and–"

"No," she cut me off quietly. "Thanks."

It took me a second to realise that she wasn't talking about just now. I smiled to myself.

"Always, Leigh."

[oreosmilkshakes]

Mine; Part 2

Summary: A continuation of the first one.  Pairing: The Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Mention of torture A/N: Well, as requested, here is part 2! Enjoy and comment on how it is! Edited and checked by @thebestdecoder​  ED/N: Apologies for any mistakes made in editing, RedBull doesn’t work on me anymore. Taglist: @tastingcevans @missingartist96 @generationallyfluid @paniniirae @felicityofbakerstreet @roguesthetic​ @igothroughphasesalot​

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

When the team came to be, Strike Team, led by Rumlow, had them surrounded with guns pointing at them. In no time, they cuffed Steve, Sam, and Natasha and threw them in the back of an armored truck.

“It was him,” Steve began, eyes on the cuffs. He felt a massive sense of guilt especially since finding out Bucky was alive and that he didn’t bother to find him after his fall. “He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me. Instead, he looked right at Y/N,” Steve was still in disbelief that Y/N’s soulmate was Bucky. Sam looked up at Steve. “How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago? What’s worse is that that killing machine is Y/N’s soulmate,” Steve squeezed his eyes shut, choosing to avoid answering the second question. “Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and--,” Natasha shook her head slightly, weak from her untreated wound. “None of that’s your fault, Steve,”

Steve sighed lowly. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky,” Natasha leaned back. “None of it is your fault, Steve. Even losing Y/N. I just hoped she did manage to escape from..from Bucky,” She was weakening and Sam took notice fast. He turned to the two soldiers. “We need to get a doctor here. If we don’t put pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck,” The first soldier ignited his stun rod, Sam leaned back a little. What he didn’t expect was for said soldier to attack the second, knocking him out effectively. Maria sighed, removing the helmet. “Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain,” The team was surprised to find an ally among the Strike Team. Time to make their big escape.

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

Slowly, Y/N came to be. However, it only came in short bursts. The first time she came to be shortly, bright light penetrated her eyes. She couldn’t see well, only blur filled her vision and in no time, she passed out again. The second time Y/N came to be, it was dark and the air smells stale. She tried to move but she couldn’t. She gave up and drifted back into the darkness. The third time Y/N came to be, she was fully conscious now. Her eyes fluttered open, accustoming her eyes to the dimly lit room. It seems like she was held hostage in an abandoned building but Y/N didn’t know for sure. The only giveaways were the newspaper-covered windows and the fact that the room she was in looked like a bedroom. Her eyes focused on the silhouette and almost instantly, fear sprouted in her chest. Y/N tugged hard on the binds, panting softly as she tried to get her hands and feet out of the bonds. 

(gif credited to the owner)

The Soldier turned to Y/N, his movements silent and intimidating as he moved closer to the woman. His metal hand reached out to touch Y/N’s cheek. He could not bring his soulmate back to HYDRA or else they would kill her. He knows HYDRA was ruthless in this sort of thing. So, to protect his soulmate, he took her to a safe place.

Y/N whimpered, scooting backwards until her back hit the wall. She shuddered when she felt the cool metal touch her cheek.

“Stop..get away from me,” Y/N begged quietly. All her training as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was failing, the terror growing in her was overwhelming. The Soldier could easily kill her with a flick of his wrist if she wasn’t his soulmate, of course. 

“When I first saw colours, I never imagined my soulmate to look as gorgeous as you,” The Soldier’s voice was low, his metal thumb stroked her delicate cheekbone. 

“Don’t touch me,” Y/N attempted to sound strong, moving her face away from The Soldier’s touch. A low growl escaped the assassin’s lips, a metal hand gripped Y/N’s face lightly. “You are mine, doll. You belong to me because you are my soulmate. Even if you don’t like it, I don’t care. You will learn to love me,” The Soldier leaned in, the tip of his nose brushed against Y/N’s. The agent gulped, avoiding eye contact with the monster.

A soft beeping caught Y/N’s attention. It came from The Soldier. The assassin growled, annoyed by the sudden interruption but he had work to do. Without saying another word, The Soldier left, leaving Y/N all alone in the abandoned building.

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

Turns out, Fury was alive and on a long journey to a full recovery. It was apparently better for S.H.I.E.L.D. to believe that he was dead so HYDRA could work at a full scale and risk exposure.

Natasha was patched up and the team was gathered around a table for a briefing. Fury picked up a photo of Alexander Pierce, looking at it with his one eye. “This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility,” Fury threw the photo on the table, leaning forward. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues,” Natasha sighed softly. “We have to stop the launch and find Y/N,”

Fury sighed. “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore and as for Y/N, we will find her. It’s only a matter of time until we do so,” The director opened a case, revealing three chips.

“What’s that?” Sam looked down at it. “Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized,” Maria turned the laptop around. “We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own,” Fury added.

“One or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this work because if even one of those ships remain operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die,” Maria sighed softly.

“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We have to get past them, insert these server blades. And maybe, just maybe we can salvage what’s left-,” “We’re not salvaging anything,” Steve cut off.

“We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. ,” “S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with this,” Fury fought.

“You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised. You said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed. And we still have no way of knowing how to locate Y/N. For all we know, she’s either dead or taken by Bucky,” Steve heaved out a heavy sigh of anger. “Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed,”

“How many paid the price before you did?” Steve growled lowly.

Fury looked down and sighed. “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes,” “Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, it all goes,” Fury sighed, deciding it was best to give in. He leaned back on his seat, eye on Steve. “Well, it looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain. As for Y/N, Hill and I will work on that. We still have some tricks up our sleeves,” Fury nodded to Hill.

Steve looked at Sam and Natasha, nodding. “Then we’ll suit up,”

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

The Soldier stood on the edge of the building, mind fuzzy and hand twitching. HYDRA electrocuted him, giving him another mind wipe. But this time, it wasn’t easy for a clean wipe. The Soldier had begun his resistance a long time ago. His cerulean eyes took in the colored view of the city. That was something those scientists could never wipe or know and that is The Soldier’s discovery of his soulmate.

The Soldier disappeared from the roof, making his way into the abandoned building. Y/N gulped, eyes widening as she heard heavy footsteps getting closer and closer. She worked her hands quickly, dragging a sharp edge of a broken wood against the rope. She silently cheered when the rope snapped free. The footsteps were close now and Y/N kept her hands to her back.

The Soldier stepped into the room, towering over her seated form. Y/N gripped onto her little weapon, glaring up at The Soldier. He approached her, eyes dark and expression was even darker. “What do you wa--,” Y/N was cut off with a metal arm gripping her arm. The Soldier pulled the agent to her feet, pinning her against the wall. His dark eyes examined Y/N’s features. He needed comfort after what HYDRA did to him again. The torture never stops. It never does. If The Soldier showed signs of disobedience, he’ll get shocked. Any signs The Soldier showed to HYDRA that was related to him being disobedient would get him punished.

The Soldier sought comfort in his soulmate, his nose brushed against the exposed skin on Y/N’s neck. ‘No, this wasn’t supposed to happen!’ Y/N mentally scolded herself. The Soldier felt warm though. But nothing about him smelled good. The Soldier smelled like smoke and gunpowder. Nevertheless, Y/N leaned into The Soldier’s shoulder. ‘What are you doing? You’re free, he’s vulnerable, attack him and run!’ Y/N’s mind reminded her. Shit, it was right. “I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. She gathered all her strength and shoved The Soldier off her, the assassin grunted in shock as Y/N made a run for it. “Блядь! (Fuck!),” The Soldier growled,  immediately taking off to chase the woman. Y/N looked over her shoulder, eyes widening as the gap between them was closing and it was closing really fast. Y/N turned a corner, almost slipping. She had to find a way out fast. The Soldier was fast on her tail.

Y/N has never felt so much fear in her life. Not even when the Earth was invaded by the Chitauris. She dug into her sleeve, slipping out a small metal ball, and threw it at The Soldier. A bright flash and a deep groan indicated that the assassin was disabled. For now. The route down to the first floor was blocked and it seems like the only way is up. So up did Y/N went. “Soulmate!” The Winter Soldier roared in anger, his thunderous voice echoed throughout the stairwell.

Y/N’s hairs stood on end, looking down to see that The Soldier was climbing up the stairs twice as fast as her. “No, no!”Y/N cried out, trying to reach the upper levels of the building as fast as she could because The Winter Soldier was just a level below her. The frantic woman burst through the roof door, looking over her shoulder. However, when she looked to the front, it was too late. Y/N skidded to a halt, missing the edge of the roof and slipped. She screamed in fear, her hand grabbing the ledge.

(gif credited to the owner. Just The Soldier running)

The building was old, almost crumbling down. The edge of concrete Y/N held broke under her weight, the woman screamed in terror, flailing her arms to try and reach something to save her from the freefall.

Was this the end for Y/N?

[anika-ann]

One Door Closes... (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2700

Summary: For Steve, your door is always open... or he thinks so. And even when it isn’t, it is.

In which one small Zoom mishap leads to an (un)usual ‘welcome home’.  

Warnings: brief mention of blood and violence, lightest angst, attempt at humour, crack-ish, fluff and language

A/N: For @anjali750, because this is totally her fault. Thank you for inspiring me :-* Have a little bit silly weekend reading, y’all!

“Tell me about it,” Steve encouraged you gently, soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth despite the pain it must be causing him due to his busted lip.

You couldn’t but grin at the lenient picture he made. Feeling blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of him probably calling you cute in his mind if his expression was anything to go by, you obliged, proceeding to tell him about the new project at work.

Your project. Because somehow, you finally earned your boss’ confidence and could bring the great ideas in your mind to life.

You felt so giddy just talking about it! So you started explaining, excitedly gesturing with your hands so Steve would get the right visual and you grew so enthusiastic that you almost forgot to keep an eye on him.

But you were watching him – always.

His lower lip was split, but already healing – it would have healed much faster if he stopped tugging at the healing skin whenever he talked or smiled at you from the screen. He looked a little drowsy, a shadow of a bruise forming on his cheek, but as far as you knew, those were the only injuries he had; that and many hours of sleep to catch up on.

Steve had a habit of calling you via Zoom whenever he got back to the Tower from a mission. He usually took a quick shower and was online until the last second before he had to leave for a debriefing; the only reason why he didn’t head straight to your place.

He admitted once that he loved seeing your face and talking to you even if for a moment after a mission, that it grounded him. On a very sappy and loveable moment, he even called you his sun; and the fact that after few minutes of being with you – as much as technology allowed – his face always seemed brighter, made you think that it truly was how he felt.

Even exhausted as he was now, you could tell his half-lidded eyes shined with life unlike when you started the call.

And so you kept rambling, feeling your heart bursting with love for your man and with euphoria, because goddammit, finally some recognition at work!

“Well, obviously, to reach as much general public as we can, we’re gonna launch a world-wide campaign! World-wide!” you emphasized with a blinding grin, throwing your hands wide to demonstrate.

---and your fingers caught in a cord from the laptop, pulling at it.

Steve’s benevolent face disappeared as your screen went black.

Because of course it did.

You had been talking yourself into buying a new laptop or at least having this one fixed for a few weeks now, because this was always the result whenever you accidently unplugged it. The battery was useless, ready to retire.

“Motherfu--- ugh!“

You wanted to be mad at the device – but this was totally on you.

Sighing, you hooked up the laptop again, waiting for it to wake up from a coma, shooting Steve an apologetic text in the meantime. Closing your eyes, you let your forehead lightly fall against your desk, mentally cursing yourself.

Dummy. If you only weren’t so lazy… and didn’t hate certain aspects of adulting with so much passion… you could have been talking to Steve-

Your eyes flew opened when it felt like it was quiet for too long; no reply to your text. Dread filled you and you quickly reached for your phone again, this time to dial.

You prayed you were wrong; but as the phone kept ringing with no one to answer it on the other end, you felt misery creep up you back and whimpered. Sliding your phone on the tabletop, your not-so-deft fingers stumbled over the keyboard, harshly welcoming it into the world of living by opening Zoom again to reconnect the call.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as the window opened---

An amused and yet somehow unimpressed face of Natasha Romanoff welcomed you and this time, you didn’t bother slowing down as your head hit the desk. It hurt, but that was only a presage of the real pain.

“Nooooooo,” you whined loudly, faking and not quite faking a sob, because shit.

“Oh yes,” Natasha hummed nonchalantly.

You straightened a bit in your chair, narrowing your eyes at her as you noticed the corners of her lips twitching while she pretended to be busy checking out her possibly-mission-broken nails.

“It’s not funny.”

She snorted and glanced at your no doubt desperate face.

“It really is. But also kinda sad,” the spy noted, something resembling concern flickering over her face before she scrunched her nose, irises twinkling. “And disgustingly cute. It has Rogers written all over it.”

You glared at her some more, not even bothering to roll your eyes.

“Tell that to my landlord,” you muttered under your breath, leaning your elbow on the tabletop and dropping your chin to you palm. A second later, a brilliant idea hit you and you tried to manipulate your legs from under you.

The thing was, even if you had a pretty good idea of what was coming if you didn’t stop it and knew that it would be a bitch to deal with, Natasha was right.

In a way, it was utterly cute, disarmingly charming and entirely heart-warming. Your stomach fluttered, the fabled butterflies flipping their wings, your face grew hot and your heart… well, it felt as if it was growing in size.

It was also sad, heart-breaking even; Steve, especially after a mission, was a man running on instincts. It was one of the reasons why he had developed a habit of calling you, why he wanted to hear you ramble about your either boring or exciting but always wonderfully normal day. A day which involved no shooting and no blood besides papercuts and a quarrel with your stubborn boss who shoot you glares at best.

On a mission, these carnal automatisms often meant survival. But back home, Steve didn’t want to be a sum of instincts of survival, fight and fear; he wanted to feel again. And with you, he did. He wasn’t just a Captain America, a soldier to be put on battlefield whenever the general found fit. He was a human being. A wonderful one at that, with beautiful soul.  

So yes. It was also rather upsetting.

And in a way, it was a little funny too. You knew it was totally your fault and that Steve was being kinda ridiculous, because he knew you and your inclination to wild gesticulations ending up catastrophically. On top of that, he was aware of this particular problem being almost a daily occurrence; hell, he tried to talk you into having Stark look at your laptop and failed.

And now... well. Here you were.

“You know, maybe if you get up and welcome him with door opened…” Natasha teased you with your own genius ides and you grinded your teeth, frantically trying to move your foot, which was pretty much on fire and yet dead.

“I would, but I… eh, pins and needles, was sitting on my feet,” you explained, embarrassed, testing whether your feet could carry you or not, naturally finding that without support, you’d be down before you could take as much as a step.

This time, Natasha didn’t snort in amusement.

Instead, she graced you with an outburst on honest full belly laughter, her red hair unfairly shiny for a woman who just spend week on a mission in damn Moldova and probably kicked more asses that you could imagine.

“You know what, Romanoff…” you grunted, forcing yourself to wobble towards the door. Very slowly. And cautiously. Knowing your luck, you might actually get hurt.

“I’m not even sorry,” she choked out and then continued to howl in laughter. “You so deserve each other. I finally know what the ‘idiots in love’ mean. Thanks for that!”

“You’re very welcome,” you huffed, voice dripping with irony.

Finally able to put full weight on both of your feet, you headed towards the exit – and entrance – of your apartment.

Halfway, you decided it was a lost cause. You would be willing to bet that the moment you’d touch the doorknob, you’d get hit to your face. It wasn’t worth it.

Yes, maybe if you did get hurt, it would make Steve think twice before coming all guns-and-shield blazing into your apartment; then again, it would probably cost you a broken nose.

Not to mention Steve’s tendency to get swallowed by the enormity of his guilt.

So not worth it. Best if you stayed put.

That was what you kept telling yourself when you stood there for about two minutes, in which you’d be able to open the door about forty times. Your annoyance – mostly with yourself and the cackling redhead – and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. As seconds ticked by, you were trying to convince yourself into taking the last few steps and opening the door and save yourself some trouble---

You yelped when the loud bang rattled your apartment the door sent flying of their hinges along with a spray of powered plaster despite knowing it was coming.

A glint of metal appeared next, the striking red, white and blue no longer there as it was covered in more bland colours for stealth missions.

And then a large figure cladded in blue shirt and grey jeans entered, his chest heaving, face flushed with red. Piercing blue eyes wiped of all previous traces of tiredness scanned the room, instantly falling on you as you awkwardly stood there, dumbfounded, startled and utterly speechless.

Also, much to Steve’s puzzlement, you were perfectly fine otherwise – even with both legs functioning, no remnants of pins and needles present.

Steve eased his posture instantly, eyes narrowing and then widening as he looked you up and down, lips parting in genuine surprise – and relief.

He said your name, clear and almost reverent, dropping the shield on the floor with a clang.

The ‘hi babe’ got stuck in your throat as you could see the tension leaving his shoulders, his eyes turning glassy and absent despite relief rolling off him in damn tsunami waves.

It hit you like a train – that you were delighted to see him, actually see him, even under these circumstances; and you truly didn’t want him to withdraw to some freaky brain-space after he had probably got one of the most ridiculous scares of his life due to the fact that his brain was not fully back in the normal world.

In the normal world where you abruptly disconnected a call without warning, because you talked too animatedly and not because some terrorist high on the FBI’s, CIA’s, NSA’s and SHIELD’s most wanted list found out you were Steve’s girlfriend and decided to take you out.

So to prevent another psychical horror trip of his, you went for distracting him – with a very relevant issue.

“You broke my door.”

Steve blinked, gaze refocusing on you fully, simply staring for a long moment.

“You went offline,” he objected quietly, a hint of accusation in his voice. God, you missed his voice.

“You broke my door, Steve.”

As if hearing his name was a spell, his frozen figure came to life and he took a cautious step closer, repeating his previous statement, this time with a hint of guilt.

“You went offline.”

“And you broke my door. That’s the second time this month, Steve! My landlords gonna k--- be real pissed at me,” you corrected yourself in the last second, not wanting say kill.

Steve ignored the slip and apparently got the message, his face twisting in genuine apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it!”

With efficiency of a supersoldier, he spun on his heels and rushed to pick up the door as if it was lighter than a paperweight and swiftly put it in place.

Only for the door to slowly tilt his way again. He caught it with a loud curse and moved it aside, leaning it partly against the wall. The action sent more plaster down onto the floor, like the only truly white snow in New York City. Peripherally, you noticed Steve grimacing, his face an expression an epitome of yikes.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head with a sigh, but couldn’t but chuckle. When you looked at Steve again, he resembled a 240 pounds giant Labrador puppy, truly regretful, approaching you reluctantly as if he was afraid you would slap his big paws for being clumsy.

What he would deserve was for you to clip round his ear for impulsiveness, but could you blame him? God knew what he had seen in Moldova in the past week, what horrors he had lived through and what a nightmare his mind had created when you ‘went offline’.

Him barging in like this due to your own dumbassery was kinda sad; a prove of his demanding job full of terror.

It was cute and heart-warming, because he just cared for you that much.

It was a little ridiculous, because as Steve finally crossed the distance between you two, the head of your elderly neighbour peeked from behind the empty doorway, puzzled and rather concerned.

You snorted unattractively, the scene in front of you seeming epically hilarious all of sudden.

“I’m good, Mr. T!” you called over Steve’s shoulder after the poor man who gossiped like an old woman and was just as hospitable. “Just my boyfriend fussing because of a technology fail!”

A grin spread on his wrinkled face; a testimony to years of laughter and amiability. “Oh. Hi, Mr. America!”

“Afternoon, Mr. T! I am verry sorry for disturbing you.”

The older-looking man waved off Steve’s politeness.

“It’s fine. You keep taking care of your lady, Mr. America, and keep her safe!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve humoured him with a salute, earning a wink.

As your neighbour walked away with a fresh topic for his Sunday tea party, Steve turned his attention to you again, eyes searching, wide, apologetic – but also soft, taking in the view of you, revelling in it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered lowly, the lopsided smile you loved so much gracing his face, once again pulling at that damn split lip. You grimaced a bit, the sight of him almost brining tears into your eyes; the gentleness and the remnants of fight punching you straight in the gut.

His eyes fluttered close when you lifted your hand and traced the line of the bruise on his face with the lightest pressure you were capable of. This time, tears definitely prickled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, cupping Steve’s cheek and pulling him close.

“Oh come here, babe,” you breathed out, fingers carding through his hair as he leaned his head on your shoulder, lips brushing the crook of your neck, strong arms embracing around your form.

He was warm and big and held you a bit tighter than necessary and dammit, you loved your sweet of heart and occasionally dumb of ass boyfriend. Boyfriend, who was crazy in love with you. Sometimes with emphasis on the crazy.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he muttered, nose nuzzling the sensitive skin of your neck, breathing in deeply. You pretended it didn’t do things to you as he did everything to get lost in you and leave all the bad behind. You failed.

“You’re totally paying for fixing my door.”

Well, maybe not failed entirely.

“Of course,” Steve assured you dutifully, no hint of humour in his voice.

It broke you on a completely new level; he was serious. Dammit you loved this man!

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted and this time, he did chuckle, squeezing you even tighter, hand running up and down your back. Without any warning, he tightened his grip and lifted you from the floor so you had to cling to him entirely, causing you to gasp.

You never got the chance to gather your wits and comment on that, because an annoyed voice of a certain redhead sounded from your laptop.

“…alright, you crazy kids, you had your cuddles. Now, Rogers, should I tell Fury you’re coming back for the debriefing or should we just finally change with the times and do it over Zoom?”

Clutching Steve’s waist and shoulder, face contentedly in his chest, you voted for the latter.

Steve Rogers masterlist

Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers​.

A fic from collection ‘This was supposed to be a drabble.’  Also, I couldn’t for the love of god figure out a better title.

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit :-*

Thank you for reading!

[caxsthetic]

RIGHT BACK HOME — Miya Atsumu x Reader

Type: Standalone Movie (One-Shot Fiction)

Cast: Miya Atsumu

Storyline: He always afraid to lose you, yet he didn’t realise that he was the one who made the string loose — and you decided to cut it off.

Genre: Drama, Romance, Slice of Life

Home. He was supposed to be home by now, maybe in your embrace as he wrapped his arms around your torso. He should have been there, inside the house with you, dragging your body to bed since he knew how stubborn you could be if there was some work that you needed to finish.

Funny how right now he stood in front of the house that you used to share with him, yet didn't dare to come knock at the door. As if the owner of the house was just a stranger. As if the owner of the house was not someone that he kissed for the last three years of his life.

But as his amber eyes stared at the mahogany door, it was as if the past years of his life on earth was just a mere fantasy; something that his mind created to make him feel better about his crappy adulthood.

He was broken — hopeless too. And right now he wanted nothing but to rewind the time, wishing that somehow in another chance, he could get back to you.

"Why didn’t you say anything?"

You croaked out, engulfed by the warm hoodie that belonged to him — yet it could not save you from the coldness inside his orbs as it pierced into you. You felt so small, hands holding on tight to the soft fabric to keep you from falling as you tried to stand your ground.

"What's the point?" He shrugged, both hands tucked inside his pocket. "It's not like it would change what you did."

You wanted to retort as he voiced it out mindlessly. Communication was important in a relationship. Yet every time he didn't like something that you did, he always just kept it inside his heart and grumbled on his own.

And each time, it would end up in one thing, a fight. Endless fights as he was too stubborn to say that something was bothering him, yet when you turn around and act as nothing happened — he always says that you never care. A little toxic wasn’t it?

“But what if it would have?” You steeled yourself, taking one step closer to him. “If I knew that talking to Sakusa could make you feel like this, I wouldn’t talk to him that much.” Every word that you said was honest, for him, you really would do anything.

“Oh, as if.” But he just decided to be a bitch about it. “Can’t you see it? How he let you come close to him? How he actually wanted your company or, or how he fucking allowed you to touch him?” Each sentence dripped with poison as his fist clenched and unclenched, trying not to let his emotions run free.

“What is wrong with touching him? I just—”

“‘Cause he never lets anyone touch him!”

His shoulders slumped the second he blurted out the words, hand carding his own hair in frustration. “Can’t you see it? He’s interested in you! He smiles a lot when you are around, and what? You flirt with him back as if I am not even there!”

“I am just being a good friend, Sumu!”

“Oh yeah, being a good friend with those innocent looking eyes as you leaned your body closer to him. Yes, such a good friend you are.”

Your blood boiled as his accusation seeped inside your heart. You have been nothing but a loyal partner for the setter, and yet he always acted like this when someone was being too close with you. It was as if he questioned your love for him, and little by little, you started to question why you stayed.

“I am not in this relationship to be treated like this.” You hissed at him and took off the hoodie that you wear, throwing it right at his face, leaving you with just a thin shirt to cover your body. “You’re always playing victim, always acting like I don’t care, like I don’t love you.”

“Well, do you?”

“What?”

He chuckled bitterly and grabbed the hoodie that you threw at him beforehand. His amber orbs looked at your face as disbelief was written all over your facade.

“You never really loved me. You just wanted the fame of being the girlfriend of Miya Atsumu. So the moment someone way better than me takes a liking to you, you immediately whore around—”

Slap!

It rang inside his eardrums, the after-effect of your palm hitting his cheek. You were five feet apart from him before, but now here you were, standing right in front of him with tears glistening your orbs.

“Congratulations.”

Your voice didn’t waver, not even a little bit as you said it with a cheery, yet sarcastic tone. “You tried to push me away, to make me tired of all your bullshit—” Chuckling, you let your hands fall to your side. “— and you accomplished that! Congratulations!”

And just like that, he was the one who felt so small under your gaze.

He wanted to say more, as he couldn’t believe that you sounded so relieved. As if you have been waiting to finally end things with him. It was never his intention to make you feel like this, to make you think that he wanted you out of his life. His lips parted, as he was in a hurry to explain why.

“So can you leave?” But you didn’t give him a chance. “I am tired, Atsumu.” Of course, what did he expect anyway after treating you like this? “I didn’t need to hear your pity excuse.”

But it was not an excuse.

Atsumu stared at your face, a little plea could be seen through his orbs as he just needed you to hear what he wanted to say.

I am just scared.

Yet when his gaze met with yours once again, he knew that you wouldn’t hear anything from him. He was too late to say that, he was too stupid to say anything before.

I am just scared that I will lose you sooner than I expected to.

But then again he already lost you in this moment. All because he was too cautious, too wary of the possibilities that you would love someone else. Someone that was possibly better than him; who was not sarcastic, who did not act like a child most of the time.

Maybe you needed someone more mature, someone that you could rely on most of the time. And that was not him, that man was not Miya Atsumu.

And he should have realised that before the two of you went too deep.

You kept clicking the pen in your hand, mind unfocused as every second brought you back to someone that used to lay on the bed while you did your work. He always snuck up on you when the night was late, resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered for you to join him in bed.

It was mostly romantic, nothing too explicit as he saved all the files that were opened on your laptop, shutting it down and led your body to tangle with him under the soft blankets. When you first met him, tipsy with pink tinting his cheeks at the club downtown, you never imagined him as someone romantic.

Everyone knew him, at least you and your colleagues knew about the pretty setter of Black Jackals. His reputation was very much something that all women loved to talk about; cheeky smiles, perfect hair, smooth talk. All the things about him screamed playboy.

Who would have known that he was just a big softie inside?

Palms sweating, words blurted out with a stutter here and there, you chuckled when you remember how he still tried to impress you while everyone could see how drunk he was already. You always kept some distance with a guy like him. Yet when he parted his lips for the first time that night, you could see that he was not like what people thought.

"Hello, miss." You just laughed with your friends when a deep, harsh voice flew to your ear. Your friends who were facing the said man widened their eyes and immediately left you all alone — of course after whispering 'Go get it, girl!' to you beforehand.

Composing yourself, you took a deep breath before facing whoever it was that made your friends have their eyes filled with hearts. Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around to meet a pair of beautiful amber eyes, gazing at your face timidly as a pinkish hue could be seen on his cheek, even under the blue light of the club's light.

"Can I get ya a drink?" His voice was smooth as he tilted his head a little to the bar, making one of the bartenders stop right where the two of you were standing. There was a slight glimpse of Kansai dialect as he spoke, but it sounded so subtle at the moment, maybe because of how he interacted with different kinds of people.

And something about his genuine smile intrigued you. That and how he seemed a little scared as he waited for your answer. Though the nervous look on his face was gone in an instant the second you nodded your head.

"That would be my pleasure."

His smile widened immediately, and it looked so refreshing from how you see it. He was like a child being treated with some sweets from his parents.

"Hey, man! Give us what's in the house right now, wouldja? Give us the best of the best!" His request was greeted with a chuckle by the bartender. The two of you just stared at how flawlessly they made the drink, both in awe, mouth agape, even after the mix was done and served right in front of you. "Woah! Here, ugh, keep the change."

The blonde reached into his pocket, slamming a couple of yen to the table before grabbing both glasses and giving one to you. He looked a bit more relaxed now as he felt great so far, nothing bad and you seemed like you enjoyed his sudden company. You did really enjoy it, but before you could reach the glass, the bartender suddenly cleared their throat.

"I am sorry, sir?" He jolted when he realised they didn't leave him and you yet. "But the money you gave is not enough."

Your mouth agape as the words rolled down their tongue. And every second that went by, the pinkish hue from his cheek gradually turned into red and covered his entire face.

"Fuck!" He blurted out in embarrassment before diving his hands inside the pocket of his pants. Orbs widened in panic as he realised that he left his wallet on the hotel, making all the colour draining from his face. "Shit, I ugh—"

You chuckled and gently put your hand on top of his, silently telling him to stop talking as you gave the rest of the money to the bartender. He eyed the interaction with humiliation struck his body as he wanted to just bonk his head on the bar table.

His head hung low, feeling that it would be the first and last time he saw you. "Sorry, my friends rushed me out today. I didn't mean to be a dick and make the woman pay." He sighed, resting the glass back on the table, still not daring to look up at you.

"Since when is a guy making a woman pay considered being a dick?" You voice out your opinion, sipping the drink that tasted so good on your tongue. "After all," Trailing off, you grab his glass and shove it under his gaze. "You can always pay me up next time."

His face immediately lit up as you said that, couldn't believe that you implied you were alright with him even after the stupid incident. He searched your eyes, searching for maybe a sign of joke. But when none could be seen, he took the drink from your hand, now with a smile that screams confidence.

"I can't wait for next time then."

You banged your forehead on the wooden table of your working desk, groaning as you missed his presence around you. Honestly, the relationship that you had with him was something that people often got jealous of. You looked so beautiful outside as you stride down on this earth with so much power.

Yet they didn't know what could happen behind closed doors. No relationship was perfect, at least that was what you knew from all of your previous relationships. But out of all lovers you had, never once was there someone as confusing as Miya Atsumu.

You gently lifted the white t-shirt that engulfed your body, hooking it on your nose as you inhaled the scent that came with the fabric. It was his favourite shirt, soft and thin but enough to keep the cold air attacking his skin. Your heart felt so heavy when you exhaled as imagination tookover your mind.

Right now, you were wishing that it was the crook of his neck that you inhaled on. And you could only hope that he was alright somewhere — even though he had been nothing but an asshole for the past weeks.

Knowing that you could not think about anything else but him, you decided that it was the right thing to shut down your laptop for today. You waited for the screen to die before closing the lid, standing up and stretched around to relax all of your joints.

You missed him, that was what occupied your mind right now. And you still loved him, because all of the constant worry and thinking about what could have been — it was enough to make you realise your feelings.

Without thinking, you snatched the phone from your table, searching up his name on your contact list. It was easy though, knowing you pinned his contact. To see that it was only six days ago you broke it off with him, making you dumbfounded as it felt like months had passed ever since then.

You leaned your body to the wall, thumb hovering the phone symbol on your screen. Just one touch, you could hear him once again if you just touch the symbol. But then again, there was nothing to talk about anymore.

Somehow you could predict how the conversation would go. Some shouts here and there, insults blurted out mindlessly from both mouths. There was nothing left but a fight in between you and the blonde setter, and it pained you more than anything because you didn't know how to fix it.

You banged your head to the windowsill, eyes fluttering close as you tried not to let frustration engulf your mind. You love him, you really do. But you were afraid of getting hurt once again, to be doubted and questioned for something that anyone else could see.

Everyone knew how much you love the man, everyone else except him.

Your mind took you back to the night when everything was falling apart, when both of you were at the limit already. He was someone full of pride, and yet he acted like no one could love him without any ill intention. You were beyond frustrated right now, as you couldn't find any clue about the reason behind the downfall.

"So the moment someone way better than me takes a liking at you, you immediately whore around—"

You straightened your posture immediately, a hand clamping your mouth as you couldn't believe the newfound information that just sank in. He was indeed someone full of pride. So when someone that he felt was better than him seemed so close to you, he took that as a threat. And the pride itself — was something that made all of the ache and doubts immensely multiply.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you unlocked your phone once again, calling him without wasting another second. You needed to see him, you wanted to talk it out with the man who owned your heart since the moment he clinked his drink to yours. You needed to lower your pride — and you hoped that he would do the same.

The line was ringing, yet no one was there to pick up the call. You were afraid for his well being. Ever since you kicked him out that night, he never once came to the house to maybe pick up his shirt or some of his other stuff. And it made you feel so wary.

You tried to call him, again and again. Even though after the fifth time you were still greeted with a voicemail, you didn't stop trying to reach out to him.

Until your eyes locked at the familiar blonde tuft outside the window, sitting on the pavement in front of the house with his head hanging low.

Gasping, your heart stopped as you realised that it was him. Atsumu was outside on this cold evening, all alone — and God knows how long he had been sitting there. Your feet strode down the stairs, didn't bother to cover yourself with a coat or jacket as your mind could only think of him. Your hands frantically turned the key before opening up the door and ran outside into the night.

"Atsumu!"

You called out, bare feet making contact with the harsh pavement. But you didn't care for any uncomfortable senses that your body felt. He slowly lifted his head, eyes widening as if he couldn't believe that you were standing in front of him.

The rustles of the leaves accompanied the two of you as both eyes seek each other. Longing was evident on his face, and you wondered if you had the same expression as him. The two of you stood there feeling so lost, knowing for certain that either your heart or his wanted to be rekindled, yet no one dared to say anything.

Your eyes scrutinised his body, and your heart clenched when you saw the state he was in right now. He had been sitting on the pavement with dark circles under his amber eyes, clothes dishevelled and messy hair. It was like he hadn’t been taking care of himself for the past few days.

“Hey.” You finally croaked out, somehow you knew that he wouldn’t be the one who started the conversation. He answered you with a little shrug before pinching his nose, still unable to believe that you stood right in front of him. “H-How long have you been here?”

“Two or three hours, maybe? Maybe more?” He wasn’t really sure himself. “I got here right after I am done with today’s practice.”

The sentence was enough to make your eyes widen, since you remembered his exact schedule. And if it hadn't changed — then he was there, for maybe around six hours now.

You fiddled your fingers, still thinking about how to start fixing up the relationship that you two had. Or was there even a chance for it, you were not really sure. Lowering your head to the ground, you were too preoccupied with your own thoughts and didn’t realise that he stood up and walked towards you.

Until his shoes were in your vision, and the smell of his scent could be felt once again.

Atsumu draped his team’s jacket around your body, trying to shield you from the night breeze since there was nothing that covered your skin except the thin layer of his t-shirt. He was waiting for you to take some steps backwards, or maybe just scowl and threw the fabric back to him like what you did to his hoodie that night.

But you kept silent, biting your lips as you wanted nothing but to feel his body on yours, not just his clothes, not just the trace of him.

“I miss you.” “I am sorry.”

Your mouth agape as those three words slipped from his lips. When the two of you fight and he was the one who started it, there was never any indication of him feeling bad and apologized. He always acted like nothing happened the next morning, pulling you to his embrace as if the night before you and him were not at each other’s throats.

Right now though, he realized, if he let go of this chance and kept his wall of pride standing in between the two of you, he knew the two of you would fall into the same cycle over and over again. “I am sorry I said that you are a whore, I am sorry I didn’t trust you and treated you like shit.”

“Atsumu,”

“Don’t.”

He clenched his hand into a fist, biting his lips as he tried not to spill any tears that were already brimming at the corner of his eyes. “Don’t call me like that. Please.” His body was trembling by now, something clogging his throat as he forced out the words that needed to be said. “I-I don’t know where to go anymore, every day I always ended up… here.”

You listened as you held yourself back from pulling him into your embrace. You needed to be patient, you had to hear everything that he wanted to say.

But the second the tears cascaded down his cheeks, you couldn’t help but just wrap your arms around his torso.

“I-I am sorry, I'm just scared—”

You shushed him softly, fingers going up to the strands of his hair as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Right now, what you had in mind was to make sure that he knew you understood.

"I know, Sumu." You whispered softly in his ear. "You don't have to say anything, I know."

Swallowing a huge lump, he sobbed to hear your voice. He had been missing it, every day he wanted to knock at the door yet he was too cowardly to do so. He should have seen it, how your existence was one of the biggest things that ever occurred in his life — yet he needed to break his own heart first to know that.

And you missed this, his warm body that engulfed yours within an instant. The warmth that he missed this too, the feeling of home that could only be felt when the two of you were so close to each other.

He had been sitting there for days, at the same spot, the same corner. One night he even stood in front of the door, too tired from being alone as he wanted nothing more than to see you again. Yet he never did anything, as he was afraid that he would do the same thing to you all over again.

But right now as he pulled away, amber eyes locked with your warm orbs — he vowed inside his heart that he would do anything to change how his mind worked. That he would do anything to keep you in his life, to make sure that he will treat you like how you deserve to be treated to.

With your hand interlaced with his and a loving gaze that was being thrown at him, he knew that you understand. He knew that once again, you let him go back to you.

“Let’s go home, Sumu.”

So he wouldn't let this chance slip between his fingers. Because he knew that with you, he was coming right back home.

— BUY MORE TICKETS! —

Tagged Lovelies:

@muffins-puffins @vlovers-world @blacckdiamondposts @atsunflower @the-fandom-ness @quirksandbreaths @verbluehte @simp4tsukkii @ladyalicevii @evermorehaikyuu @clowninfortodoroki @koutaroulovebot @fitriiaw @mistypoison @aquariarose @greenleaf-fantasy @t-amajiki @haikyuuwithadashofart @starbybokuto @shiningstar-byulxx @nerdyphantomlady @raequii @akasuns @sugawsites @macaronnv @spicyfoodboi @killuaking @edvigelacivetta @feedmewires @brainwqshed

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 13

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, slight smut

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Warnings: Anxiety, low self-esteem, discussions of sex, mention of (f) oral sex, sexual anxiety

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! As usual, if you do...please reblog and leave me a comment! Or send me an ask letting me know your thoughts, I’m glad you’re all loving Flower!Hobi!

; Flower Masterpost

-

Staring at your computer screen, a deep sigh leaves you as yet another email notification pops up in the corner. Clicking on it with as much enthusiasm as you’d give towards picking up a slug, you watch as it directs you back to Outlook and brings up the email. It was from your boss, who was literally sat across the small room from you, asking you to call a client and check whether they were still available for a meeting tomorrow.

Pursing your lips, you bring up her previous email that includes the client’s contact details and input their number into your work phone. Holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you tap your pen against your mouse as the dial tone fills your ear.

You really hated your job. 26-years-old, with a degree and you were just stuck doing the work people better paid than you didn’t want to do. Chewing on your lip, you contemplated looking at the list of job sites you’d begun to frequent lately, wondering whether or not you should apply for a new job.

The prospect of a job you actually loved and enjoyed was so foreign to you that it felt almost like a mythical unicorn right now, but you knew they existed. Hoseok loved his job, despite how everyone berated IT departments in every company. So you knew that there was something out there for you. 

But what was it? And how could you get it when you had no relevant experience in...well anything except for the modern day equivalent of pen pushing? Some days you were rushed off your feet doing everything for your boss, acting like a secretary, personal assistant and administrative assistant all at once.

Getting tea and coffee for work meetings, sitting in and taking notes, writing up meeting notes and distributing them, arranging meetings and visits and so much more. It was all boring and dull. The very idea of doing this for the rest of your life was simply unimaginable but you just...couldn’t get the courage to put yourself out there and apply for something better.

You were afraid of rejection and you were even more afraid of getting accepted for a job and then finding out you couldn’t do it. 

Almost without even thinking, you talk through with the client and make sure that they’re still okay for the meeting that was prepared for tomorrow. As soon as the phone clicks back into the cradle, you’re opening a response to your boss and sending her a quick email to let her know that it’s still on and that you’ve checked the room is still booked for them.

And then you just sit there a moment, staring at the screen and wondering what to do next. You had some menial tasks that needed to be done; photocopying documents for their meeting, forwarding invoices and so forth. But you just didn’t want to do any of it. 

That was nothing new though, you never wanted to do anything at work.

A sudden flash of colour out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and look over to where your phone lay on the desk, just above your keyboard. One of the only good things about this place was that no one complained about phones being used as long as you were doing your work too.

And the green that lights up the screen can only mean that someone has sent you a message on WhatsApp. Licking your lips, you glance up at your boss before unlocking your phone quickly and clicking onto the app. 

Upon seeing Hoseok’s name your grin turns even broader, feeling a little better already. He didn’t often text during the work day, often being far too busy to waste time on texting. Unlike you, he was permanently busy.

Hoseok [13:38pm]: Guess who got promoted?

Hoseok [13:38pm]: It’s me! I got promoted :D

Smiling even wider, you quickly texted back as pride fills your chest. Amazing how you’ve only been dating for four months yet you feel so happy and proud of him already. You’d known that he had a meeting today with his managers and he’d been a little worried, unsure whether or not they were going to be laying people off or not.

Y/N [13:39pm]: Yaaaaaaaaay. Can you boss people around now?

Hoseok [13:40pm]: I already boss people around

Hoseok [13:40pm]: Now I just have another department to boss...and more money :D

Y/N [13:41pm]: I is jealouz

Y/N [13:41pm]: (;﹏;)

Hoseok [13:42pm]: I still can’t get over how you text sometimes, honestly

Hoseok [13:42pm]: ANYWAY, it’s more money to spend on youuu :D and Kasumi

Y/N [13:43pm]: Hush, more money for you to spend on gigs

Hoseok [13:43pm]: :O don’t tell me how to spend my money >:[

And then you get a photo sent. Your phone’s setting means that you need to accept it before it downloads, image pixelated at first before becoming high quality. Clicking on it again, you frown momentarily before your eyes widen and your throat goes strangely dry suddenly.

He’s in an all black suit; black jacket, a silk black shirt and a skinny black tie to compliment it all off. It makes the hint of tattoos you can see pop vividly with their colours over the top of his shirt collar and the bit of wrist you can see on the hand that’s pointing at the camera. And it all complements his dark hair wonderfully, today actually styled properly and pushed up elegantly to reveal his forehead and let the astonishing beauty of his face be seen properly.

His face though, isn’t the pure sex his body is emanating. Instead, he’s got a comical expression in which his face is scrunched together, lips pursed in faux anger to go with his last text. But you don’t care, you can’t care.

Hoseok in a suit is...oh god. It’s everything, and you feel things for him suddenly that you’ve never really felt for anyone before from just seeing a picture. You...want to do things to him, right now. 

The strength of your reaction actually makes you pause, looking up from your phone as you assess yourself to try and comprehend what you feel. And what you wanted was for Hoseok to send you a serious photo of him looking like that.

Y/N [13:49pm]: You’re in a suit?

Hoseok [13:50pm]: Yeah, manager meeting

Y/N [13:55pm]: Can you...send a serious picture?

Hoseok [13:56pm]: ...you want another selfie of me?

Y/N [14:00pm]: I mean...you don’t have to

And then you get another photo sent through, causing you to swallow thickly as you download it. You end up biting your lip harshly as you try to stop yourself from making any kind of noise out loud. No one had noticed that you hadn’t done a lot of work in the last fifteen minutes, but they would notice if you made the kind of noise that wanted to erupt from your throat.

Hoseok had evidently known where your thoughts had gone from your awkward text back to him, and he’d pulled out all the stops for you. Part of you wondered where on Earth he was that he could take pictures like this without getting strange looks from his colleagues but an overriding part of you didn’t care.

Because holy shit, your boyfriend was ridiculously fucking attractive and how in the hell had you pulled him?

This photo has him in almost the same angle, only two of his fingers frame the pink tongue that pokes out of his mouth, white teeth pressing against the back of his tongue ring while his eyes are dark with intent. There’s no playfulness in this picture, at least nothing that could be done in public. 

No indeed and you squirm slightly in your seat, contemplating the wild fact that you were horny at work. This has never happened before and you didn’t really know that to do! But how could you not be? The way Hoseok was looking at the camera was the exact way he’d looked at you all three times he’d gone down on you so far.

And he knew it, given his suggestive pose with his tongue. In fact, you’re suddenly sent back to last week when he’d gone down on you in bed. You still weren’t even remotely comfortable asking him to do anything like that yet, but apparently he’d been wanting to so you’d shyly agreed once more.

Not that you were opposed to it or anything.

But those eyes he was giving the camera are the exact same he gave you from between your legs. And that just was not fair, because what were you supposed to do about this in the middle of work? You had just under three hours left to work before you left and he wouldn’t even finish till six.

Y/N [14:07pm]: Handsome

Y/N [14:08pm]: Are you still staying over?

Hoseok [14:10pm]: That’s all you gotta say to that, you wound me. And yes, be around 7

Y/N [14:11pm]: <33

Putting your phone down, you stare at your computer screen that has gotten three new email notifications since you got distracted. You don’t click on them though...instead you just chew on your lip, tapping your fingertips against the desk slowly as you think.

Maybe tonight...maybe…

-

The quick rapping on the door lets you know that Hoseok is finally here, half an hour late. Opening the door to him, you don't even get a chance to say anything as he brushes past you, kicking his shoes off and apologising profusely.

"I'm sorry, they kept me an extra half an hour 'cos some idiot basically broke his laptop and then there was traffic so I haven't been able to go back and change." He's taking his coat off, hanging it up on the little rack on the wall before looking at you and letting out a deep sigh.

"Oh I'm so glad to be home. Today has been so fucking stressful, maybe I should have turned down that promotion and it’s not even been a full day." You don't even get time to consider the fact that he just called your place home because he's suddenly leaning forward, giving you a quick kiss before moving into the kitchen.

Watching after him, you simply stare in bewilderment. You're not entirely sure that you could speak right now, hit by the double whammy of his slip of the tongue and his clothes.

It was true that Hoseok had pretty much spent the last month near enough living at your place, only going home a day or two a week but you hadn't realised he'd felt that comfortable here. You felt a shy warm happiness bubble in your chest at the thought though, looking down at your hands as you bite your lip to stop smiling like a little girl.

But what really turns you into an excitable mess is his outfit. He's still wearing the suit from earlier, his hair tousled from where he'd obviously been running his hands through it in the stress of his work.

And if he'd looked hot in his photos, he looked damn near sinful in person.

Which is why you simply watch him with wide eyes, moving into the kitchen slowly and resting a hip against one of the counters as he peers into the slow cooker that you'd set up this morning before going to work. It was just a simple beef stew with a hint of red wine, the scent delicious but you found that wasn't what was making your mouth water.

Not tonight.

"So...I didn't...know you had a suit like that." The words are incredibly stilted, sounding unbelievably awkward in your mouth and you inwardly cringe. Particularly when you see Hoseok stiffen, ever so slightly beneath the delightful black fabric that outlines his lithe body beautifully.

You knew that Hoseok had been incredibly patient with you. Probably more patient than most men would have been, not even slightly pushing you and making sure that you are completely comfortable with every moment. He didn't ask for much and you often felt bad that he seemed to give up so much in exchange for the eternal patience he gave to you. 

But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to thrive on what little advancement in your relationship he could get. You still got shy when he gave you oral obviously, but you were far more eager to say yes compared to the beginning.

And tonight...tonight you wanted to finally let him get the pleasure he’d willingly denied himself to keep you comfortable. Especially when he looked like that.

It wasn't just a 'giving him a good time' too because you like him, a lot, but also because quite simply...for the first time ever...you wanted to have sex with someone. You desperately wanted to find out what he felt like inside you. Feel him thrusting within you and in turn explore him to find out what made him jerk, made him twitch and made him moan.

Oh god yes, you wanted to hear him moan. The very idea of him making those kinds of noises because of you was intoxicating and you squeeze your thighs together, fully in the knowledge that you were probably wet already. 

You have no doubt that Hoseok can tell there’s something different, an unusual kind of tension in the air as he turns around slowly, brow raised. Glancing away, you find yourself playing with the label of a Coke bottle on the side, fingers picking until it came away.

Part of you wanted to be brash and forward, boldly tell him what you wanted but as soon as you consider doing it, it felt like an iron band wrapped around your lungs. Breathing was made a lot of harder suddenly and you couldn’t get any words out, your limbs feeling cold and tingly with nerves and anxiety.

Oh how you wished desperately that you could be a bolder person because you just knew that you weren’t at that level of confidence yet with him. Even if you felt no expectations from him. You just weren’t there, and that’s why you were hoping he’d understand and take the lead once more. 

And Jung Hoseok, your wonderful boyfriend who you still believe is far too good for you, does so. You have no idea how he knows that you want to do more than cuddle or talk, no idea how he can tell that you’re struggling to get across your desires but he does.

He smiles slowly, the corners of his lips turning up in a smirk at first before turning into that beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. Moving slowly, he walked over to you and you press yourself into the counter, eyes widening as you took in the long and loping stride.

Without so much as a word, he stands firmly in front of you, leaning forward just enough to place his arms on the counter, trapping you between them. You can feel the heat of him, the way his leg’s brush against yours with how close he is and the way his jacket slides along your stomach slightly. Combined with the fresh scent that was so unique to Hoseok and the dark look in his eyes, you felt completely overwhelmed by him.

Overwhelmed, in the best way possible.

Leaning down, Hoseok moves close enough until you feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, the movement deceptively soft given the sexual tension that’s so thick between you both. Biting your lip, you force yourself to remain quiet to see what he does.

“I have more suits than you might realise baby. Why? Do you like it?” His voice is annoyingly light, innocence laced into every syllable that matches his perfect, angelic face too well. Smiling, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for an answer but before you can even say anything, his arms move a little and you feel them pressing against your waist.

“Y-yeah, it...it looks good.” You stutter out, body heating rapidly as you lick at your lips, mouth absurdly dry. And before even realising...you’re pressing your face against his black shirt, feeling the soft silky material rub at your cheek while all you can think of is what the firm chest beneath it looks like.

Hoseok seems to pause for a moment before his hands move to rest on your hips, hesitantly stroking along them. Almost instantly you cringe forward, the feel of his hands so foreign and a subtle panic rushes through you as your mind screams at where he’s touching. The place you dislike on yourself, the place society has taught you isn’t beautiful.

But he touches you with so much care, light and gentle. He doesn’t push further with you, simply let the moment hold despite how tense you both are. You know what he’s doing, instinctively understand because he’s done this your whole relationship so far. He’s letting you get used to him, decide whether or not you feel comfortable with what he’s doing...what he’s offering.

Pressing your ear to his chest, you close your eyes and inhale deeply, shakily as you fight the demons of insecurity over yourself and your previous sexual experiences. Originally, you’d considered perhaps returning the favour to him and giving him oral sex. But now, hearing the strong beat of his heart and the warmth that has comforted you for many nights now...now you want more.

So you let him know, in that quiet and shy method that he must have become so used to. Your own hands tremble slightly as you move your head back just enough before you press them to his chest, hesitantly just letting yourself feel him like this for the first time. And then your fingers move to his collar, the top two buttons already undone.

Finally, finally you glance up at him, feeling unbelievably frightened that he might push you away, decided he didn’t want it. Didn’t want you. 

It had been years since you’d done anything...you knew this and he knew this by now. But you knew that he was far more experienced, so experienced in fact that it scares you a little. You felt like you’d be judged against others and found wanting, even if you knew that Hoseok wouldn’t do that.

“Hoseok,” You start, words meek and quiet. “I...erm, I want...I mean...I don’t…” 

And Hoseok moves his hands to cup your cheeks, smiling at you sweetly, so sweetly. It’s so reminiscent of when he’d gone down on you the first time and you get the urge to suddenly cry at how caring he is. How lucky you are.

“It’s okay. I know...you’re not hugely experienced and you’re not confident. That’s fine, I don’t expect anything from you. We don’t need to do anything, I was just teasing. If you want, I can just go do-”

“No. No, not today. I don’t...I don’t want that. I want...I want you.” This time, the words are a tiny bit more confident but rushed out. “I just...sex...I’ve never really...understood why people like it. You know? It just...felt okay. Maybe it was me but like...yeah, I mean...you know. It was…rushed and you’ve done so much more than me and-” Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to interrupt you, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he lets out a shushing noise.

Suddenly, surprising you entirely, he backs away and gently takes your hand to lead you back to the couch. Without a word he gets you to sit down before doing so himself, taking both your hands between his own with a quiet sigh.

“Okay, I just...want us to talk for a moment, so that neither of us get confused or offended or anything. So...yes, I’ve had a lot of sex, I won’t deny that. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna judge you though. You’re my girlfriend, the vast majority of everyone else was not. I’m incredibly turned on by you and I wanna beat my chest like a neanderthal knowing you want me too. I know you’re shy and you’re not confident of yourself, which is just plain wrong by the way because you are unbelievably beautiful. I just...I don’t want to move too fast for you and have you regret it. So...talk to me. Please.” You’re sure this man really isn’t real, because surely no one really existed like him in real life. 

“Why are you so patient?” You blurt out, brow furrowed in confusion and he looks just as confused for a moment before smiling.

“Because being pushy doesn’t get me anything? Except upsetting you and making you close up. And then if you do anything for me, then it’s because I’ve pushed and pushed until you feel forced to do it. So I’m patient. I don’t really mind, I like your company and it’s strangely rewarding seeing you slowly open up to me. I’m not doing anything for an ulterior motive.” He’s so earnest that you can tell he’s being honest but it still confuses you. 

Not that you’re going to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything. 

So inhaling deeply, you squeeze his hands and gave him a tight smile before talking. Something about Hoseok has always been comforting and reassuring, like he won’t judge you and you know he’ll be the same this time.

“I haven’t...slept with anyone in years. You’ve probably realised or...maybe I told you. But...well. I mean,” Your hands feel so clammy in his. “It wasn’t really good? I never...you know, with anyone. It just...felt fine. Good enough that I’d do it again but not so good I actively wanted it. Thought something was wrong with me because of that. I’ve accepted there isn’t...maybe even wondered if I was asexual for a while or something. Maybe I still am? I don’t really know. I just...I like you...a lot...and I like doing...things with you. I’ve never...you know…”

“Orgasmed?”

It’s a simple word and he says it so casually but you find yourself squirming at it, feeling warm and embarrassed about it. Not only talking about orgasms but also admitting that you’d never had one during sex before. So you simply nod, unable to get the words out and frowning in frustration at yourself.

“Hey...hey look at me,” Hoseok says gently, squeezing your hands till you do as he says. “Don’t feel embarrassed about it. It’s not something to feel bad about. This probably isn’t what I should be saying right now...but I’ve had a lot of sex, with...a sizeable amount of women. Do you know how many times they orgasmed during sex?”

Frowning, you wonder momentarily whether you’re meant to feel better with the knowledge that he’d been with a lot of women. Or that some of them had even orgasmed with him. But you sensed he was trying to make a point, and Hoseok had never been cruel.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Not that many of them to be honest. I wish I could boost my ego and say I have a 100% strike rate but...I don’t. Sometimes girl’s would cum, most of the time they didn’t. I had to go down on them or something. And I’ve never had a single woman orgasm from penetration alone, they all needed some help. What I’m trying to get across here to you, and very badly because there’s nothing less sexy than hearing about your partner’s...escapades but...please don’t think that you’re always meant to orgasm during sex. Sometimes you might, sometimes you might not. I know that for some women, they just enjoy the feeling because they can’t get there. Sometimes, I don’t even orgasm. I’m not in the mood or something or I get bored...or I’m too drunk.”

That makes your eyes widen in shock and surprise. You hadn’t even though guys could just...not orgasm during sex. It made you realise how little you really knew, and suddenly you felt a little embarrassed about your lack of knowledge about sex. But he wasn’t being condescending or demeaning, so you decided to take the plunge and ask him.

“R-really? You...I didn’t know guys...I thought you just always did.” Hoseok laughs at that, looking so attractive that you can’t help but bite your lip. Even though you’re having a serious conversation with him, you still can’t mask the desire you have for him. Damn him for looking so good in a suit.

“The vast majority of the time? Yeah, it’s no problem. But sometimes like...I’m too tired to bother anymore and I just don’t want to carry on. Sometimes I’m a bit stressed and can’t get there which then leads to anxiety that I’m not. I try not to take it to heart but...you don’t need to be embarrassed. If you wanna orgasm then we can definitely try, if you don’t feel like it, then we don’t need to. It’s entirely up to you, I swear.” 

Silence falls between you both and you stare at your hands, swallowing thickly. He’s offering you so much, and part of you feels bad. But at the same time...you want to just enjoy him without the stress or anxiety of not performing like you thought you were supposed to.

Clenching your jaw, you make the decision and nod your head to yourself. Yes, you were doing this.

So without a word, you grab onto this small flame of confidence he’s lit within you and let go of his hands, instead using them to grip the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward. His eyes widen for a second and he lets out an ‘oomph’ before you’re kissing him.

It’s not pretty at first, almost painful from the force and you both take a few seconds to reacquaint yourselves with each other before it finally starts moving smoothly like usual. Only this time, the kiss is far more intense than anything you’d had before with him, almost as if you were trying to devour each other with the force and intensity.

Pulling away momentarily, you look at him and groan softly at the desire in his eyes. You’ve seen him in moments of pure lust before, but he’s bordering on unrestrained here. And you want that, so you pull him back in, moulding your lips to his own and feeling the tingle of excitement that runs through you.

“Not here, not here. Please, I really wanna fuck you on your bed.” Hoseok gasps out as he pulls away once more, trying to avoid your grasping hands with a breathy laugh. 

You don’t even question it, getting up quickly and practically tugging him into your bedroom in your eagerness. The sheer laugh of delight he gives you as you do so invigorates you, bolstering the confidence that’s spurring you on and you hope it lasts.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him into a kiss once you’re in the safe haven of your bedroom, you prepare to trust him with your insecurities once more.

[artificialqueens]

When We Went From Friends to This, Part 1: Week 1 (Branjie) - Writworm42

A/N: Fic summary: At the start of their first year of college, roomies Brooke and Vanessa have to quarantine together for two weeks. Fourteen days is a lot of time to bond, but it’s also a lot of time for things to get complicated.

For the lovely Ortega–merry super belated Christmas <3 Thank you Holtz for betaing & suggesting a song for the title, Bean for answering my questions about whether UK stereotypes are true, and Ortega for being patient fdhsjkf

Title from Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

TW for implied weed use

Day 1

“I still can’t believe you gotta go in-person to all these classes, you sure there ain’t a Zoom option?”

Vanessa snorts, and she’s pretty sure that Silky can hear her roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “For dance majors? Bitch, you know that ain’t gonna work.”

But Silky is too stubborn to be fazed by common sense. Instead, her voice gets a little more urgent. “We’re only first year. Start out with something that doesn’t need to be done in-person, then switch majors to dance once this is all over. C’mon, I can’t have my bestie dying Miss ‘Rona here!”

“Christ, you sound like my mom.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, the uni is being very careful, okay? Why else do you think I gotta quarantine for two weeks ahead of the start of term? Plus all clubs have been suspended and meals and showers are booked with time slots for each room. I’m literally seeing no one except the people in my classes and the bitch I’m sleeping next to.”

“But—“

“Listen, I’m at the dorm now, so I gotta go. I’ll call you later, alright?”

“Bye.” Silky’s begrudging send-off brings a flash of guilt to Vanessa’s chest, but only for a moment. Pushing her feelings aside, she hip-checks the door to the dorm building, trying to make her way inside without disrupting the large box she’s holding with one arm or the suitcase she’s trailing behind her with the other.

“Hi, I’m Vanessa Mateo, I think I’m supposed to be room 96?”

The suspiciously stoned-looking guy at the front desk barely looks up from the computer as he slides the keycard across his desk, and at first, Vanessa hovers, waiting for him to launch into a spiel about rules, but a moment passes without him saying anything, so she surges on. The building is a bit of a maze, its cement walls cold and drab despite the colourful posters plastered across it in a desperate attempt to make it more hospitable. By the time she finally reaches her room, she’s almost grateful that she’ll have to stay in it 24/7, given the impression the building and staff have left so far. No matter, though, right now, all she wants is to put down what she’s carrying and collapse onto her bed.

She shifts uncomfortably for a moment, trying to balance her box while also maneuvering her card towards the keypad, but the effort is unsuccessful–when she finally manages to tap the card, she’s met with another obstacle, having to actually open the door without any free arms.

It’s probably not the best impression to kick the door open and promptly drop almost all of your stuff before falling on top of it. Scratch that, it’s definitely not the best impression. Especially when Vanessa looks up at the owner of the voice that’s holding back laughter, asking if she needs help in a soft, calm twang.

Her roommate is tall, blonde, and nothing short of gorgeous. And even as she makes a motion as simple as offering a hand, Vanessa can tell that this girl is the picture of poise and grace.

“What’s your name?” The girl watches with piercing eyes as Vanessa dusts herself off, fighting off a fierce blush as she straightens up and catches her breath.

“Vanessa, but my friends call me Vanjie.” She extends a hand again, and this time, the girl seems rather shy as she takes it, nervously brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Vanessa. I’m Brooke.”

Day 2

Brooke, as it turns out, is the polar opposite of Vanessa–quiet and reserved, so introverted that Vanessa has to wrestle information out of her. What Vanessa learns about her is interesting - she’s a dance major too, she’s from Toronto, she decided to study here because she wants RAD training as well as to get trained in other styles. She plans to minor in costume design, having an affinity for and attraction to any pattern that involves leather or lace (a kinky detail that Vanessa, much to her shame and embarrassment, files away hungrily). She has two cats back home, Apollo and Henry, that she misses terribly. Everything else Vanessa knows, though, had to be acquired sneakily over their first night together, more observation and speculation than actually asking. Like how Brooke must be a fan of Schitt’s Creek , given that she put out a ‘ fold in the cheese ’ sign on her desk. Or how Lana is probably her favourite artist, because she has a weird habit of not checking if her air pods are actually connected to the school’s shitty bluetooth network and it’s always the first couple notes of Summertime Sadness that play from her laptop before she catches her mistake. Or how her ass is one of the best Vanessa’s ever seen, because Brooke has no shame changing in front of her–

She strikes that part from her mind almost as quickly as she thinks it in the first place. The important thing is, she’s got to spend two weeks with only Brooke to keep her company, and if they stay in this silence, it’s going to get very awkward very soon.

“So… How d’you like Scotland so far?” Vanessa starts, grimacing internally at how stupid the question sounds. But Brooke doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, she smiles kindly as she looks up from her computer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear again.

“To be honest, I haven’t really seen much of it… Pretty much came right here after I came off the plane.” Her smile turns apologetic as her face flushes pink, clearly self-conscious about the lacklustre answer. That’s okay, though; Vanessa can still work with it.

“Probably a long flight, huh? What’d you do to keep yourself entertained? Or are you a plane sleeper?” Vanessa adds with a teasing grin, and much to her delight, Brooke laughs.

“Nah, I can never sleep on planes. Unless I knock myself out with Gravol or something, at least.” Brooke chuckles, giving a small wink. “I just read a bit, then the airline showed The Notebook, so I watched that.”

“I love that movie!” Vanessa gasps, “I swear I’ve probably seen it, like, three thousand times. It’s just so–”

“Romantic!” Brooke finishes. “The poor guy next to me must have hated me for all the crying I did.”

Her eyes are alight with excitement, and Vanessa can’t help but pick up on it, because finally , the perfect topic, and Brooke likes Vanessa’s favourite movie, and maybe she likes other stuff that Vanessa likes, and they can talk about that together, and–

“So what’s your favourite scene?” Brooke asks eagerly, and Vanessa claps her hands over her face.

“That’s the worst question to ask me, bitch!” Vanessa groans, but grins behind her hands when Brooke laughs, a string of apologies flowing between giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, I should’ve known.” Brooke puts her hands up in mock surrender. “Too many to choose, right?”

“Right.” Vanessa giggles a little too. “Although…” she brings herself up on her elbows as soon as the idea hits her, and for some reason, her heart skips a beat as she formulates the question, a rare flash of nerves hitting her square in the chest.

“Maybe a rewatch would be a good reminder?” Before she can verbalize what she’s thinking, Brooke beats her to the question, blushing again and chewing on her lip.

It’s cute, how shy she is, and Vanessa makes a mental note that she’ll have to help her new roomie break herself of those habits.

“Yeah, lets.” Vanessa smiles warmly, sliding off her bed to grab her laptop from her desk. “Here, we can use my computer.”

She’s only just grabbed the computer and turned around when she falters, realizing with a sinking dread what decision is next.

Either she has to invite Brooke onto her bed, or Brooke has to make room on hers.

It’s just a bed, it’s just a bed, it’s not like you’re inviting her to snog, it’s just sitting down to watch a movie…  

So maybe Vanessa’s never had anyone but her friends lounge on her bed before, and her friends certainly don’t make her feel as nervous as Brooke does. Maybe Vanessa’s bed is a little small and Brooke is a little pretty, and the thought of being that close together makes her mouth go dry. And maybe the sudden uncertainty in Brooke’s eyes, too, is imagined, or else doesn’t mean anything that Vanessa thinks it could mean, rejection or reciprocation or suspicion of what Vanessa’s feeling. None of that changes anything right now, because Brooke is smiling again, tapping the space beside her bed to beckon Vanessa over.

“C’mon, let’s watch. If you want, we can even try to find the director’s cut.”

Day 3

Vanessa’s fast-developing fascination with Brooke’s ass isn’t helped by the sight of Brooke stretching on the floor that greets her as she comes back from her shower.

“Oh, hey!” Brooke lifts her leg up into a needle stance, peering between her legs before shifting her weight onto one hand and waving to Vanessa with the other. Her hair is still wet from her turn in the showers, and her current position is causing stray drops of water to trickle onto her arms, making it all too easy for Vanessa to give into temptation and watch as the droplets course over each one of Brooke’s muscles.

Bloody Hell. Vanessa’s got to do a better job of keeping her hormones under control.

“Hey yourself.” She tries to keep her voice casual as she grabs a pair of PJs from her bedside drawer, turning away from Brooke to change.

It’s strange. Vanessa never used to be as shy as she feels now, self-conscious of her nakedness as she drops her robe and begins to re-dress. A few months ago, this would’ve been no problem at all; to be honest, she’s not sure it would be now if she had a different roommate. But with Brooke next to her, watching her or not watching her at all (she can’t decide what’s worse, really), it’s different. She can’t help but wonder what she must look like, what Brooke must see if she’s actually looking. What does it feel like, being in Brooke’s head? What does everything seem, looking through Brooke’s eyes?

But Brooke is comfortable changing around her, and even though there’s no actual rule that says so, Vanessa feels obligated to feel comfortable, too. Partially because if it’s a non-issue, then feeling embarrassed about it might fade. And if that fades, then so will the way she feels every time she lays eyes on Brooke at all.

Right?

Vanessa whips around quickly, the sudden, eerie feeling of being watched making her forget that she doesn’t have a shirt on yet.

“ Christ! ” Brooke hits the floor with a thud, flushing beet red as she scrambles to cover her eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see–”

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.” Vanessa rolls her eyes and laughs, hoping that the light tone and faint smirk she forces herself to slap on disguises how secretly mortified she feels. And thankfully, the comment does work; the redness dissipates from Brooke’s face, and she giggles a little, though her gaze stays firmly planted on the ground until Vanessa slides on her t-shirt. Just like that, the awkwardness fades from the air, and things are back to business as usual as Vanessa begins to comb out her hair. Brooke finishes stretching, Vanessa goes to the half-bath to blow her hair dry. Brooke sits at her desk and types intently, Vanessa tries not to peek over Brooke’s shoulder to see who she’s talking to. Brooke stretches out on her bed to look at her phone, and Vanessa does the same to play around on hers.

“Oh, it’s our turn for dinner.” A reminder notification at the top of Vanessa’s screen alerts her to the time, and she shuffles up to slide on shoes and get going, only remembering what she’s wearing at the last minute.

“Gimme a second, we can go out like that together.” Brooke grins, swiping yet another strand of hair behind her ear as she drops her sweatpants and swaps them for a pair of pajama pants.

“Are you sure?” Vanessa frowns, but Brooke just shrugs, a wry smile spreading on her face.

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.”

Day 4

They do morning stretches together the next day, and Vanessa has to admit that lust gets pushed aside by jealousy the minute they slide into the splits. Vanessa can do them, even if she hates them–it’s not that she can’t. It’s not even that she’s inflexible, she wouldn’t have survived in dance up until now if she were. But Brooke? That girl is on a whole other level. She slides into the splits with no effort at all, falling into position almost instantly and yet extremely gracefully, then does the one thing Vanessa hates, because it’s the one stretch she can’t do. She grabs a high foam block and puts it under her front foot. And then, just when Vanessa thinks she can’t get shown up even worse, Brooke grabs a second block and slides that under, too.

God, Vanessa wishes she could hate Brooke. But Brooke is too sweet, too kind, and too encouraging to even hold her pretzel-like tendencies against her, especially when she turns to Vanessa and taps her foot, offers her tips on how to get herself to that level of flexibility.

Vanessa tries to tell herself that the way Brooke’s eyes seem to linger on her every few minutes is just that generosity, a teacher monitoring her pupil. But even after Brooke helps Vanessa slide a small book under her foot, elevating her leg just enough, the lingering continues, and it’s hard not to let wishful thinking–at least, she thinks that’s what it is–take over. And that feeling only gets stronger as they move to their next stretch, one where they’re toe to toe with their legs spread wide and Brooke is grabbing Vanessa’s hands to pull her hardly an inch away from her chest.

Is it just Vanessa, or is Brooke blushing? And is it just Vanessa, or are Brooke’s hands just a little sweaty under their softness, warm and gentle as if they’re trying to hold Vanessa with as much tenderness as they can? And is it just Vanessa, or has Brooke’s chest gone still, her breathing stopped until Vanessa straightens out again?

“Your turn.” Vanessa offers, pulling Brooke into the position she’d just been in, and from the way Brooke comes to a harsh, sudden, stiff stop, but her muscles don’t shake and her breathing doesn’t change, Vanessa can tell she’s holding back. Almost as if she doesn’t want to get too close.

Vanessa’s imagining it. She has to be imagining it. There’s no other explanation, not a heterosexual one, and Brooke is…

Come to think of it, Vanessa doesn’t know for sure. But she can’t ask, not now; it would be too strange. So instead, she pulls Brooke forward sharply, resisting the urge to giggle when the blonde grunts in surprise at her strength.

“No holding back.” Vanessa shakes her head, smiling far too warmly for Brooke not to know what this is really about. “You can trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Brooke smiles up at her, and then her muscles relax, and everything feels back to normal.

Day 5

“Truth or dare?”

Brooke turns to look at Vanessa, shifting to sit up as she smiles dubiously. They’re lying on Brooke’s bed together, pressed up against each other in an attempt to both fit in the small space of the double underneath the fuzzy, tickly cushion of Brooke’s top blanket. Vanessa rolls her eyes at Brooke’s skepticism, rolling onto her back to look up at her, grin wide on her face.

“C’mon, you know you want to. We can scroll Reddit later. Truth or dare?”

“Um…” Brooke crinkles her nose as she thinks, and Vanessa has to swallow the thought of how cute the blonde looks like that.

Although admittedly, the fact that she’s starting to hope Brooke keeps thinking isn’t just so she can watch the way Brooke’s brow furrows and muse quietly to herself about how seriously Brooke is taking this choice. Rather, it’s because she knows what she wants Brooke to pick, and the longer Brooke thinks, the more opportunity there is for Vanessa to hope she’ll pick up on the psychic signals she’s trying to send her.

Pick truth, pick truth, pick truth…

“Dare. But I’m not licking anything and I’m not going anywhere naked.”

Damnit.

Vanessa frowns, chewing on her lip as she tries frantically to think of a dare she can ask Brooke to do. It has to be appropriate, obviously, nothing too crazy like she might ask of Silky or her other, closer friends. But it can’t be boring, either—-if there’s one thing Vanessa doesn’t want to be in Brooke’s eyes, it’s boring.

Then, she thinks of the perfect thing. Something that might get at her truth question, that isn’t too high-stakes but definitely still has a bit of an ‘oh shit’ factor—exactly what you want from a dare.

“Dare you to prank call your last ex. On speaker. ” Vanessa smiles triumphantly, sticking out her tongue to tease her roommate. It’s foolproof—depending on the voice, Vanessa will know who Brooke has dated. And if she’s dating someone already, then surely she’ll say that, since admitting it is no problem.

Only, from Brooke’s face, there’s definitely a problem.

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Brooke heaves herself up off the bed, face becoming stony and cold as her eyes cloud over with something that Vanessa can’t quite decipher. Something mixed with anger, sure, but also something…

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. The magnitude of what Vanessa’s just asked of her new friend hits her like a train, and she feels like both the dumbest and worst person in the world at once. She called Brooke out, put her on the spot, and if she is queer? Pretty much just asked her to out herself. Which, unlike someone like Vanessa, who has a pan flag on her desk, not everyone is willing to do.

Brooke isn’t just feeling cornered, she’s feeling afraid.

“Aw, c’mon Brooke, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want—“

“I said I don’t want to play!” Brooke snaps.

There’s a beat, Vanessa’s own heartbeat the only thing she can hear amidst the crushing silence.

“Brooke—“ Vanessa tries again after a moment, her throat going dry as she tries to cut through the sudden tension, but Brooke just turns to her desk, scoops up her things and storms towards the door.

“I’m going for a walk. See you at dinner.”

She slams the door on her way out, and suddenly, getting an answer to Vanessa’s question doesn’t really matter anymore, because there’s no satisfaction in what a reaction that strong might mean. She drops her head in her hands, staying there for a moment before punching the mattress underneath her, rocketing up and grabbing her phone.

“Silk? Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry, I just… I fucked up.”

Day 6

They don’t talk about it at dinner, nor afterwards. They don’t talk about it the next morning, not during their morning stretches or at breakfast, either. It’s not that they don’t talk; they say good morning, ask each other questions about what time breakfast is, what time Brooke is going to be on a call with her parents. But that’s about as far as it goes; Brooke sticks to business, asking and answering questions in as few words as possible and avoiding Vanessa’s gaze at all costs. It’s torture, the tension eating away at Vanessa’s mind and stinging in her chest. She fucked up, and she fucked up bad , and despite Silky’s advice, she’s not so sure she can fix this.

Still, she supposes it won’t hurt to try.

Brooke is in the shower when Vanessa decides to sneak out, purse over her shoulder and mind ready for a mission. There’s a supermarket open within walking distance of the uni right now, and technically, she’s not supposed to leave campus at all except for emergencies. Which this is, so it should be okay, right? At least, that’s what she’ll say if she gets caught. She’ll have to be fast, and sneaky, and careful not to run into anyone who might ask where she’s going. Come to think of it, she hasn’t been for a walk on the grounds yet, not since arriving–how will it work? Will she have to plan a route? Give it to the front desk? Get a pass or something, to make sure she comes back within the allotted time? This could be dangerous, very dangerous…

“If you’re gonna go to the shop, can you get me a pack of cigs?” The stoner at the front desk doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever he’s doing on the computer as she tries to sneak by, stopping in her tracks at his voice.

Christ, really?

“Sure, whatever.” Vanessa rolls her eyes, a little irritated at how easy this actually is. So much for danger and adventure.

She comes back about an hour later, throws the guy his pack and launches that he owes her eleven over her shoulder, and skips back into her room with a jumbo bag of ketchup Lays in her knapsack.

“Peace offering?” Vanessa grins down at Brooke as the blonde’s mouth drops open first in surprise, then delight as she snatches the snack from Vanessa’s hands.

“Where did you find these?” Brooke squeals with delight as she tears the bag open, breathing in the sharp, slightly-sour smell that makes Vanessa’s nose wrinkle. Still, seeing the look of utter joy on Brooke’s face makes Vanessa so happy that she can’t help but smile, too.

“International aisle.” Vanessa sits on the edge of her bed proudly. “Figured you might like them, seeing as you always say you’re craving them.” She winks, and Brooke rolls her eyes, but giggles despite herself. But the moment passes as soon as it had come, and then they settle into silence again.

Come on, Vanessa. Just face the music. Apologize. She deserves that from you. Vanessa bites her lip, her hands curling into fists as she tries to force her heartbeat even again, because the longer the silence goes on, the more awkward it gets, the more she realizes that it’s now or never for her to make things right.

“Brooke–”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Brooke says quietly, her voice flat and lifeless and… scared, almost. Vanessa sucks in a breath, her chest sinking as she realizes what’s going on.

“Well… Do you want to?” Vanessa prods, but Brooke doesn’t even look up from the bag of crisps, which suddenly seem to be the most interesting thing in the world despite the dullness in the blonde’s eyes.

“Honestly, I’d rather we didn’t.” When she finally speaks up, her voice is barely above a whisper, and it’s enough to make Vanessa’s heart break.

Not just because she’s lost her chance to apologize–because she knows that tone, knows that look. Knows the hesitancy and caution behind it, the anxiety and the feeling of being trapped and overwhelmed. Knows what kind of revelation that voice and that look are hiding, and how the information Brooke is trying to avoid isn’t actually set in stone yet.

Jesus, she’s fucked up way more than she thought she had.

“Okay.” Vanessa finally nods, sighing deeply. “But if you do… I’m here, okay?”

Brooke hesitates for a moment, but when she does look up, her eyes are full of a gratefulness that’s surprisingly warm. “Okay.”

This time, when silence falls, it’s not awkward, but full of resolution.

“So…” Brooke finally breaks it this time, a slow smile spreading on her face, “They just put up the newest season of The Bachelor online, wanna watch it? We got snacks, after all.” Brooke waves her bag in the air, and Vanessa smiles.

“Shove over, mate. I wanna see what kinda mess the girls are this year.”

[heathsbitch]

YES, SIR - g.m*

CHARACTER(S): George MacKay (Actor)

WARNING: Smut, unprotected sex, absolute filth, age-gap (Professor AU)

WORD COUNT: 3566

"That'll be all for today, remember you have exactly a week until your next assignments are due. Good luck," His voice reverberated throughout the lecture hall. People begun to stand up, their books carelessly thrown in their bags. "Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?" My head snapped towards my professor, heart pounding against my chest, 'What did he want?' As soon as the hall was empty of students, with the exception of me, I approached his desk. "There's no need to look so worried, you're not in trouble," His smile was kind, it almost seemed to light up the space around him, but perhaps that was just my admiration for him. I was quite fond of my professor. He genuinely cared for his students, always pushing for them to be better; I always found myself striving to please him. Besides, he was also described to be the 'best looking professor I have ever laid eyes on'. Not my words, but I could hardly argue with them, they were true words.

His hands fumbled with the papers on his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in search of something. My eyes wandered him as I waited. They trailed up the veins of his forearms, disappearing into shirt he had rolled up to his elbows. The same shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, a deep maroon colour. "Here," Professor MacKay muttered to himself as he held a paper in his hand, my paper. "I wanted to congratulate you on it personally." I was lost for words, how could he be that impressed with it that he wanted to speak to me privately. "Thank you, sir, but can I ask why?" He chuckled at my coyness, "Come here," He beckoned me over to his desk as he placed the paper on it. My eyes flickered over my work, remembering the stress that I had gone through to hand it in on time.

He moved closer to me, his body mere centimetres away from mine. His long finger pointed at a particular section, he dragged it across my words as he spoke, "This imagery, Y/N, its one of the best things I've ever read, and I don't say that lightly," I could almost hear the smile in his words despite not looking at his face. "The way you write about her being utterly infatuated with him, to the point where she'd completely surrender herself to him...its beautiful. The way you write about love, it seems as though you lived through hundreds of relationships. Now that's not true, is it, Y/N?"

The way the words fell from his lips, the way he praised me, the way his voice lowered as he said my name; it had me weak in my knees. "No, sir." My words were quiet, not quite believing what he was telling me. "I'd love to hear about your thought process behind this piece." The truth, the real truth was that I was projecting myself onto the woman. I longed for someone to submit myself to, someone who could utterly dominate me. And the image that formed in my head when writing was none other than my professor. I stuttered, unsure of what lie to tell him. I couldn't possibly tell him the truth. His breath fanned my neck and I could feel his cerulean eyes burning into my frame; small and meek compared to his tall stature.

"George, you will not fucking believe what-oh," A saviour had arrived. "I thought you were alone." The man stopped in his tracks as he stared at us. I could feel Mr MacKay had moved away from me, his warmth no longer radiating onto me. "Dean, don't worry about it." His professional demeanor dropped as he spoke to his friend. "Professor, I should go." I turned around to face him and he nodded, his eyes darting between my own and his friend's. "Of course. Good luck on your next assignment, I'm expecting big things." His smile was intended to be comforting but his words shot anxiety through my body, more pressure being applied to me. "Thank you, sir." I left the room without a second thought, eager to get started on my work so I could finish it as soon as possible.

Three hours and counting. That's how long I'd been staring at my blank page, the whiteness of it boring into my tired eyes. Inspiration ran short in my mind. Mr MacKay's words paced through my head, "I'm expecting big things."

What if I couldn't deliver? Would he be mad at me? Disappointed?

Surely not, he always seemed so polite and comforting, he would understand, right? My thoughts turned dark almost instantly, what if he did have a darker side? My previous assignment appeared before me, the scene Sir was talking about firmly planted in my mind. The woman was on her knees, begging, and I couldn't help but imagine myself in that situation.

"Please, sir, I'm yours, all yours to do with as you please." He looked down at me, his fingers delicately holding my chin, a condescending smile playing upon his perfect lips. "I know you're mine, you little slut. You're mine and only mine, is that understood, angel?" His fingers moved down to grab my neck, squeezing the flesh that rested underneath his calloused hand.

Stop. I slammed the lid of my laptop shut. My work could wait until tomorrow when my head was clear.

Oh, how wrong I was. The two hour lecture was torture in its purest form, my thoughts from last night plaguing my mind still as I gazed upon my professor as he taught from the front of the hall. I had instantly regretted sitting in one of the front seats as soon as I sat down, his eyes bore into me for the entire time.He had never done that before, I realised. Previously when I'd sat at the front, he would always look at the other students so why was he only focused on me? I groaned underneath my breath, trying to focus on the words that left his mouth and that's when I realised. My t-shirt ran along the tops of my breasts, more skin was exposed than usual. 'Surely not.' I thought to myself. Mr MacKay couldn't be distracted because of some tits. But my theory was proven right when his gaze caught mine once more, his eyes flickering down to my chest before they came up to my eyes again. A red tint crept onto his cheeks, I had caught him.

The rest of the lecture went by surprisingly quick, and I didn't catch Mr MacKay looking at my chest again. As usual, I was the last one to leave and for the second day in a row, my professor called out to me, "Y/N, forgive me, I-I don't know what came over me." The blush returned to his cheeks as his hands toyed with one another. "Professor, you don't have to apologise, it's fine," A smirk slid onto my lips, maybe one day my fantasies would come true. 'Fat chance.' I mentally scolded myself. Silence fell upon the lecture hall, the light streaming in from the thin windows. Sun beams bounced off of Mr MacKay's face, highlighting his cheekbones and his jawline. His eyes seemed to glow in the light, the deep pools of blue dragging me further into his charm, further under his grasp.

"I should go."

"Yes, yes, of course," He responded almost immediately, "Big things, Y/N."He pointed a long finger at me, his teeth shining from the lighting in the room. I nodded before hurrying out the lecture hall

Two more days passed and I was still struggling with my assignment. I kept asking myself if I should just go to Professor MacKay and ask for help, but every time I went to seek out his office, I stopped myself. However it seemed that help came to find me instead. As I was leaving the campus, I bumped into none other than Mr MacKay himself. Quite literally. I wasn't watching where I was going and before I knew it, I was face-to-face with the man in question. Or rather, face-to-chest. "Sorry, Professor, I should've been looking where I was going." I let out a timid laugh but avoided his gaze. "It's quite alright," Silence passed over us again so I took the time to briefly look at him. A navy shirt hugged his chest, rolled up to his elbows as always.

"How's your assignment going?"

My heart beat doubled instantly. 'Should I tell him the truth?'  Oh, what's the harm. "Actually, it's not going too great," Once again, I tried to avert my eyes from his piercing gaze. "I, um, was actually wondering if you could help me with it."

"Of course, Y/N," He beamed at me, he seemed slightly too enthusiastic. He led me through various corridors and hallways to his office. Inside, the room was neat and tidy. I wouldn't have expected anything less from him. "Take a seat. Obviously, I can't help you too much, it would be unfair on other students. But I'll try and do what I can." I followed his instruction and took a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat at his desk. What surprised me is that he took the one next to me, rather than the one on the opposite side.

"Thank you, sir. For doing this for me." That damn smile. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong; pining after my professor like this. But that feeling, it spurred me on almost. The danger of it all, the risk. It was enticing, alluring, arousing.

"Show me what you have so far," I pulled my notebook out of my bag and placed it on his large desk. His eyes scanned over my scarce plan, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, his fingers playing upon his lips. He hummed slightly, his knee knocking against mine. I shouldn't have looked. As if my lust for him couldn't get worse, I had to go and look at his thighs. His thick thighs. I could practically see the muscles clenching and relaxing under the fabric of his trousers. His fingers danced upon the page of my notebook, one finger in particular pointing at a section. "I like this, could you expand on this?" His voiced lowered at the end of his sentence, blue eyes passing over my body. I came closer to him, to read what he had pointed out. Once again, I could feel his breath against me, the warmth of his body radiating against mine.

More. I wanted more.

I tore my eyes off the page to look at my professor. I could see the cogs ticking behind his eyes, the thoughts racing through his head. Eyes cast to my lips, his tongue passed over his own. "Professor..." I muttered before his lips came crashing onto mine, his large hand weaving into my hair to pull my head closer to his. Parting his lips, he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Wet, silky, soft lips moved against my own. My heart pounded against my chest so hard I was scared he'd be able to see it. I moved my own hands to rest on him, one on his knee, the other at the base of his neck. The hairs their enticed my hands, begged me to pull at the strands, so I did. A groan erupted from his lips, he pulled away not long after. "I-I, this." He seemed lost for words. "We don't have to if you don't want to." I told him, fearing I had over-stepped. "No, no, I want to," His eyes seemed to darken with his own words. "I was just wondering if this was alright with you."

"It's more than alright." A smirk found it's way back onto my lips as my hand slid further into the fluff of his hair. "Tell me if you want me to stop, at any moment." His eyes were filled with concern, his eyebrows furrowed once more. His breath fanned my face, "I will, but believe me, I'm not gonna want you to stop," I moved my lips closer to his ear, my voice barely above a whisper, "I'm yours, sir. Use me as you please, treat me like the slut I am." A moan came from his perfect lips, his thigh tensing under my hand. "Didn't think you had it in you." He muttered before dragging me into his lap. Rough hands pressed into my body, squeezing at my flesh, starting at my neck and working their way down to my ass.

"Sir." I whimpered as he slapped it harshly. "Fucking love it when you call me that. Don't act like it doesn't turn you on too," Our lips met once more, more passionate than the first time. Teeth clashed with each other, tongues collided, lips smacked one another. It was all lust, lust driving us into each other, lust causing the friction between our laps. My hips began to grind against his, his hands urging me on. He pulled me closer to him then pulled me away, then closer again, repeating the same action over and over again, fighting for more friction between us.

His mouth parted from mine, "Stand up," He pushed me off of his thighs, it was like a switch had been flipped; one moment he was kind and generous, the next intimidating and dominant. Mr MacKay followed in my actions, standing up so our warm bodies pressed against each other once more. Despite his domineering actions, his hands trembled slightly as they raised my top above my head. "Been thinking about these," His head moved to my chest, peppering light kisses along the tops of my breasts. Hands making quick work of the clasp, he pulled the garment away from me, nipples hardening from the cool air of his office. My fingers, toiled with the tendrils of his hair, tugging at the strands. His hips thrusted into mine slightly with every tug of mine.

Purple marks started to form on my breasts from Mr MacKay's work, he made his way up to my neck, intending to leave his mark there too. I could feel his tongue slip and slide against my flesh, his teeth lightly biting into the skin. Sir's hands moved again, grabbing at my trousers, yanking them down my legs. My professor took a step away from me, his eyes burning through my body. "Fuck," He whimpered at the sight of me, my chest and neck littered with his mark, almost naked in front of him. The bulge in between his legs grew bigger by the second, begging to break free from its tight restraints. Thoughts began to fill his head again. "Do you think about me a lot then, sir?" I padded towards him, confusion light upon his face. "You said you've been thinking about these," I raised my small hands to play with my nipples, pinching them and twisting them. "Tell me, Professor. Do you touch yourself with thoughts of me in your mind?"

I cocked my head, hands coming from my body to press against his, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. His eyes watched me like a hawk watches its prey. "Tell me, do you have me on my knees, begging to such your cock?" Confidence poured into my veins, spurring me on more and more. "Or am I bent over your desk? Legs spread wide, dripping for your touch?" I slid his shirt off of his body. I was taken aback by it slightly, I wasn't expecting him to be so muscular. Veins slid down his chest, past his v-line and disappeared under his trousers. "You've got a pretty mouth, little one. Let's put it to use shall we?" His smirk was wicked as his hands pushed me to me knees.

His trousers were pooled at his ankles before long, his erection already leaking at the tip, a dark patch forming on his underwear. "To answer your question, yes, little one." Fire wracked my body, an intense heat sent straight to my core. My hands shook as I removed his restraints from him. His cock sprang free, thick and veiny before my eyes. I immediately took it into my hands, they appeared tiny in comparison. I ran them across the length before taking it in my mouth. It lay heavy against my tongue; I tried to take as much as I possibly could, his tip hitting the back of my throat quicker than I expected. I gagged and spluttered, pulling him out of me so I could regain myself. "What's wrong, slut? Never had a cock this big?" He antagonised me from above, hands threading into my hair, "Open wide."

I followed his orders and allowed him back into my mouth. Control was entirely his, his hips thrusting against my head. I was completely at his mercy, as I always wished to be. More gags came from me but he never stopped, he never yielded."Can't cum yet," He told me before pulling me off of his cock. But I brought my hands back to him, bringing him close to his orgasm again. "I thought you were a good girl, little one. Perhaps I should've taught you better. Bend over." He grabbed at me, pulling me from my knees and pushing me to his desk. I bent over, completely exposed to him, completely at his mercy. His large hands found their way to my flesh, running across it before delivering a hard smack my ass. A whimper left me, the stinging sensation causing more wetness to gather between my legs. "Look at how wet you are for me. Fucking pathetic," Another spank, and another, and another. "You know what you need? A real man. A real man to take care of you."

His fingers danced up my slit, toying with my entrance briefly before landing on my clit. "Yes, sir. Please, ruin me, professor." A groan echoed in the room before the sound of Mr MacKay kicking away his trousers. "Gonna use you now. This is gonna hurt, little one. Tell me if you want me to stop." He muttered in my ear. He took his cock in his hand and ran it across my slip, gathering the wetness before pushing into me. He stretched me open, the pain causing me more pleasure. "Shit." We hissed in unison from the feeling. "So tight, so fucking tight." Mr MacKay moaned, his hands forcing my hips into the desk. My nails dug into the wood below me, the euphoric feeling almost too much for me to bear. His pace started to quicken. Soon he was driving into me without mercy, using me for his own pleasure. Skin slapped against skin, the sound of moans and groans drowned the room.

His tight grasp on me broke to deliver another spank to my already red ass. "Fucking whore, my whore." He whimpered in my ear as he bent over the desk, his chest pressed into my back. The position didn't last long, he pulled out of me and turned me around so we were face-to-face once again. Mr MacKay entered me again, I wish I could've taken a picture because the sight of him was almost enough to make me cum on the spot. His hair was tousled, stray strands stuck to his forehead because of the sweat, his lips swollen and wet from kisses, parted from the feeling of my tight pussy gripping his thick cock. A hand made it's way to my throat as he pounded into me. He shoved me down onto his desk, his grip tightening every second. "S-sir, gonna..."

"I know, princess. I'm close too. Just hold on a little longer, keep your eyes open for me angel," My professor brought me back up to meet his lips once more briefly. We were chest-to-chest, our hands buried in each other's hair, sweat dripping from our bodies. "Cum for me, angel. Fucking cum," Warmth surged throughout my body as it pushed further against my professor. "Gonna cum," He warned me. Mr MacKay pulled out of me, his hand darting down to his cock, furiously tugging at it. His beautiful eyes screwed shut, the muscles in his chest and abdomen all tensed as ropes of hot cum shot out of his cock and onto my stomach.

"Fuck, Y/N," The room stilled. George's head rested in the crook of my neck, mine against his shoulder. The soreness had already begun to work it's way into my body, a small whimper left my swollen lips. As he heard the noise, he came back to meet my lips, placing a sweet kiss to them. It wasn't as lust-filled as all of the others we had shared that night, it was more passionate, more loving. "I should help with your assignment now." I chuckled against his chest, a laugh leaving him also. "Clean me up first, George."

"Shit, sorry. I like it when you say my real name." He smiled at me again before searching for something he could use to clean me up. The realisation had started to settle in, I had just slept with my professor. Would this be a one-time thing? Or a regular occurrence? Only time would tell.

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Migraine

Call It What You Want (6/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x Reader

A/N: OH MAI GAWD we’re finally getting somewhere with the plot can you believe???I apologize for the slowest of slowburns ever also I rlly am sorry for hurting Poe like this but im not done yet oops

Chapter Summary: Bby isn’t feeling so good :(

Warnings: swearing, fluff (finally), then angst immediately after oops

Word count: 1.7k

Poe walks into the living room as Finn and Rey watch him drag his feet, dropping face-first onto the couch. 

“Did you do it?” Rey asks. Poe nods his head, his face still pressed into the cushion.

“Do what?” Finn asks.

“You didn’t tell him?” Rey questions Poe.

“Nope,” he says, voice muffled.

“Tell me what?” Finn asks again, getting confused.

“How did it go?” Rey completely ignores her boyfriend, too invested in the news Poe was about to divulge. 

“Excuse me! How did what go? What did y’all do?” Finn was getting worked up at how they were ignoring him.

Poe props himself up on his elbows. “Didn’t make a scene because, guess what? She’s already seeing someone,” 

“What the hell, man!” Rey exclaims, further confusing Finn. He was so close to shaking one of them by the shoulders demanding answers.

Poe continues unfazed by Finn glaring daggers at the two of them. “Didn’t even have the decency to end it with me first,”

“Did you break up with Sarah?” Finn exclaims, finally catching on. Poe nods. “Oh finally,” When two sets of eyes fix on him, glaring, he clears his throat and says, “I mean, oh shit, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Poe whines, dropping his head back onto the cushion. A part of him had hoped he would feel better after breaking up with Sarah, but it only left him feeling more down than anything. He should’ve just listened to Finn and ended it before it got so out of hand. Well, at least he has one less thing to worry about now.

—-

Poe groans when hears a soft knock from his bedroom door. He thought Rey and Finn had already left for the dental appointment. But then, when did they ever knock before barging into his room? 

Poe had assured Rey that he’d be fine when she asked before leaving, but the migraine was really kicking his ass. He couldn’t even stand without feeling like he was going to fall over or throw up, he tried to sleep but the pain didn’t let him. So he there he was, sprawled across the bed on his stomach buried under the covers.

“The door’s open,” he grumbles and the door opens. He lifts his head from the mattress, watching you walk in. Suddenly, Poe becomes very aware of how his unruly curls stick out in every direction and how he looks like he hasn’t slept in days because he hasn’t. He blinks, wondering if he was hallucinating all of a sudden.

“Hey, Poe,” you greet him watching him squint back at you, blinking blearily. The curtains are wide open, sunlight shining straight into his eyes. You walk over to the window and draw them close.

“Thanks,” he gives you a shy smile, finally snapping out of the daze. “What are doing here?”

“Oh, Rey called. She said you weren’t feeling so well and that she and Finn won’t be around for a little while. So I volunteered to babysit,” You smile at him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Poe replies, not even acting like he was offended that you called it babysitting, too busy trying to suppress the giddy smile growing on his face. You care about him.

“No offence Poe, but you really don’t look like you’re doing great,” You did have a point.

Poe dramatically flops back onto the mattress, groaning. “I feel horrible,”

He hears you chuckle at his antics, striding closer to him. You kneel by the bed and he adjusts his head to get a better look at you. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Nope, I feel nauseous,” He presses his face back into the sheets. 

“Can I get you something? Maybe soup? It’s a little more light,” You suggest.

“Okay,“ the smile fully stretched across his face. The migraine didn’t seem to bad all of a sudden.

---

You’re back at the dining table, the same spot you took the first time you stayed over at the apartment. Laptop open before you, skimming through the lecture contents. 

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Poe when Rey had called you asking if you could keep an eye on him for her. Rey was bringing Finn along to her dental appointment, way too scared to go on her own. It wasn’t like Poe couldn’t take care of himself, but she felt bad leaving him alone anyways.

You had a lecture at that time but fortunately one of your classmates were willing to share notes so you thought it wouldn’t be too bad if you missed just one lecture. You didn’t tell any of trio, knowing how they’d hate to be the reason you miss out on your class.

Poe was asleep in his room upstairs. The soup you gave seemed to be doing fine with his stomach, thankfully. Rey had called to tell you that they were taking more time than expected at the clinic. You had no problems with staying a little longer.

You hear the door swing open upstairs and Poe emerges in the kitchen a few moments later. “Feeling better?” you ask him.

“Yep, much better, thanks to you.” Thankfully, he turns away as he fills a cup with water because you definitely don’t want him to see how your face briefly warms up at the compliment.

Poe joins you at the table, and you can’t help but think of the previous time you were in that position. You weren’t unaware that spending more time with him was only going to make things worse for you. If you had any sense of self-preservation you would’ve made yourself scarce around him. You did try after new years eve. It still escaped you how Poe managed to befriend you so quickly while you took forever with anyone else. You just felt drawn to him.

Poe quietly sips on his water, unaware of your inner turmoil as you blankly stared at the screen. You know you’re only going to fall harder and end up hurting yourself. You really should try harder to distance yourself from him.

---

“I used to have a massive crush on Finn back in middle school,” Poe confesses. You and Poe lay under the throw blanket on the couch, reruns of some old show playing on the TV, but neither of you are watching it. Poe suggested a game, 21 questions, claiming he was bored and it was the only thing that could entertain him. So much for distancing yourself.

The questions started out innocent, plain boring, like what’s your favourite colour? then quickly escalating to at what age did you loose your virginity? Before you know, your laughing with him on the couch clutching you half-empty mug, Poe’s empty on laying in the coffee table.

“What?” The way your eyes widen comically draws a laugh from Poe. “Does Finn know?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knew, I wasn’t exactly subtle. Its embarrassing,” That triggers more laughter from you. “In my defense, everyone had a crush on Finn at one point,” Poe watches you laugh at his expense, smiling brighter, feeling lighter than he had for months. He would recount every single one of his embarrassing childhood memories if it got you laughing like that. He’s in so much trouble. “Okay, your turn,”

An embarrassing childhood memory. You have a plethora of those. You sip your coffee pondering, which one to share? Placing your mug on the coffee table, you lean back into the couch and Poe rests his head on your shoulder. The silence stretches as you remain like that for a few more serene moments, game forgotten, only the sounds of the characters on screen punctuating the otherwise peaceful night. 

You turn when you hear Poe whisper your name, your eyes lock on his and you can’t seem to look away. He holds your gaze as he looks up at you, making you feel so exposed with those big brown eyes you never knew could be so piercing. He looks like he’s about to say something, then decides against it.

Instead, he tilts his head up, brushing his lips against yours, breath fanning your cheeks as he ventures further when you don’t pull away. His hands cradle your jaw, touch light like feather on your skin. Your eyelids flutter as his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You’re kissing him before you mind catches up with your actions. His tongue brushes over your bottom lips then against your own, wet and warm, tasting sweet like the coffee he had, black, with three sugars.

An arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his chest and you follow blindly. The warmth emanating from his chest and feeling of his heart thundering beneath your palms. You could loose yourself in it. In him.

Almost just as soon as you had him, you’re ripped away from him when the sound of a key turning in the front door lock jolts the two of you apart. “We’re home!” Rey sings as she and Finn walk through the door.

Oh fuck. What did you just do?

You scramble up from the couch, quickly making up a shoddy excuse before throwing yourself out the front door, your belongings haphazardly gathered up in your arms, leaving all three of your friends stunned in your wake.

---

“Damn, Poe. What did you do?” Finn asks closing the door after you.

The way you were kissing him one moment and then suddenly disappearing the next almost gave Poe whiplash. “Huh? Why do you think I did something?” Both Finn and Rey gave him a look full of disbelief. “We might have kissed,” he utters the last word like a whisper. “And she just ran out like that,” he says flailing his arms in the direction you disappeared in. Did he go too far? You wouldn’t have kissed him back if you didn’t want to, right? Fuck, what did he do wrong?

“Did you tell her you broke up with Sarah?” Rey asks him. Always hitting the nail right on the head.  

“Oh, oh no,” he didn’t, it never came up and he didn’t even think of it. 

“You fucked up, son,” Finn interjects, grimacing like he was feeling second hand embarrassment from the whole situation.

“You didn’t tell her by any chance?” Poe asks, turning to Rey. 

“Why would I tell her? Do you think we got nothing better to do than sit around gossiping about friends?”

“I’m an idiot,” Poe says, more to himself to anyone else.

“The migraine sure messed with your mind,” Finn chuckles.

---

The Dameron Taglist (open):

@writefightandflightclub​ @arkofblake​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @multifandomlife22​ @skymerons​ @smol-peter-parker​ @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal

[butterbeeryuta]

the tech guy

techie!xiaojun x historian!reader | oneshot series | fluff, slight angst | 2.3 k 

summary: if there was anything people had to know about you, you were very clumsy. You were so clumsy to a point where you may have dropped your laptop and broke the screen. Of course, you brought it to the computer shop, and the tech guy did his shit. What he didn’t expect was for you to break your laptop on a weekly basis.

‘So what you’re telling me is, you tried to reach for the packet of Lotus biscuits on the top shelf, with your laptop on your left hand, and the moment you reached the biscuits, your laptop dropped?’ Yuqi, your roommate, asks as looks at you as if you were the dumbest person to ever breathe. Though if she did think so, she wasn’t exactly lying. You knew you should have left your laptop on some flat surface rather than your hand. You knew that your only talent was dropping things, or making a fool out of yourself by tripping on things unnecessarily. You couldn’t help but just be naturally clumsy.

‘Ok yes, I might have not been exactly careful—‘

‘_______ you dropped your laptop and broke the screen in exchange of biscuits.’ She says monotonously, as if she is trying to comprehend whatever you just told her.

‘I mean if you put in that way, then yeah, I did that. But Yuqi babe—‘

‘You’re an actual idiot, why didn’t you leave your laptop on a desk or something?’ She loudly asks, not bothering to listen to whatever defence you had. Which was honestly quite reasonable because you didn’t really have anything to defend yourself. You were just… you. Not wanting to hear whatever Yuqi has to say, or scold you, you placed your broken laptop down and cut her off.

‘Okay yes yes, I know I am in idiot. I know I should have placed it down, but Yuqi this was bound to happen someday, I just break shit—‘

‘Because you are so stupid—‘

‘Stop cutting me off! Anyway, it already happened and it’s not like you’re gonna pay for the repairing cost so tell me babe, do you know any tech place where I can ask someone to fix this?’ You desperately asked, pointing at your damaged laptop screen. Yuqi sighed, fully understanding that her getting angry at you won’t exactly change your extreme clumsiness. At the same time, who the fucking hell can be that clumsy?

‘Oh well I don’t know ______ I haven’t broken a laptop yet for trying to reach for some brown-coloured biscuits’ she sarcastically says, only earning a deep sigh from you. Thinking that your roommate’s great disappointment in you won’t go away, you decided to leave the shared space and go back to your room, and look for a repair shop by yourself.

‘Alright ______ I’m sorry, I know you’re a clumsy mess. I’m just worried that if you keep doing careless things, you won’t fix it’ she says, going towards you with her arms slightly open to hug your sulking frame. Not exactly sure what to say, you sort of just let her hug you, unsure if you should feel relieved that she will stop telling you off, or annoyed that you’re letting her be this affectionate towards you after bursting at you. Then again, a fraction of you felt that you needed to be told off for your clumsiness. This wasn’t your first time you drop such… valuable items. In Grade 9 your mother’s engagement ring slipped off your finger when you were planting a tree for service purposes. Then in your last year of schooling you accidentally dropped your friend’s camera in the sea when you and your friends were on a boat— it was a mess. The only good thing about your unnecessary clumsiness was that you at least admit it. You just nodded under Yuqi’s embrace, now thinking of ways to repair your laptop because you had a research paper due in a few days, and you only had to finish your conclusion. You were not willing to rewrite 7500 words in a matter of 72 hours. As if your roommate read your mind, she looked down at you currently smaller form.

‘You know, I know this guy whose really good at tech stuff. How ‘bout I give him a call about your laptop? I know you have your History paper due soon,’ she softly asks, hoping for a more cheerful response from you. You looked up at her immediately, very close to hugging her tightly for actually saying something useful.

‘Really? You’ll do that for me?’

‘Yes, why won’t I?’

‘Because you called me stupid for being a clumsy ass—‘

‘Okay yeah no Yuqi was being mean, I’m sorry bub.’ Well, at least you got some support from her roommate.

—————————————————————————————

If you remember correctly, Yuqi told you to turn left after you see your favourite stationery shop, and that if you keep walking straight, you’ll see a shop with the sign ‘Xiao Devices.’ And of course, you still managed to fuck up. Yuqi said to the tech guy that you’d come around at 4 in the afternoon. What was originally supposed to be a 10 minute walk turned into a 30 minute walk, making you 20 minutes late. Good on you _______. Despite your shitty navigation skills, you somehow made it to the store, and my dear, were there a lot of devices. The moment you enter the shop, it was gadgets stacked on top of another. You were beginning to wonder if the setup of the place was done for aesthetic purposes, but you felt as if you were about break something with how the store was setup.

‘Hello?’ You ask, slowly taking out your damaged laptop. Just as you were about to take out the mess you made, you felt someone coming out wherever they were. Turning to see who it was, you came to face probably one of the prettiest faces you have ever seen. He was a pretty lean guy, not too tall, but not short either. His dark hair was laying over his round glasses, making him look quite soft. In other words, he was attractive. He couldn’t be the tech guy, right?

‘You’re Yuqi’s friend? ______?’ He asks with his surprisingly deep voice, contrasting his soft features. His oversized knit sweater was not helping the fact that you thought he was some soft-spoken little guy that liked puppies, and was on a whole new level of nerdy. Then again, he probably could still be.

‘Uh, yeah. I am _______. And you’re Xiaojun?’ I confirmed, hoping that I did not mess up his name just like how I did last time with Yuqi’s ex-girlfriend. One year ago her ex came to your apartment to pick up Yuqi for a date, and you mistakenly called her Minnie instead of Miyeon, and you were very close to breaking them up. Now, the consequences will probably not be as big as what happened last year, but you still did not want to take the chance.

‘Yep, that’s my name. Yuqi told me that you broke your laptop, but she wouldn’t tell me how. She said something about how you were a better person to ask about how your laptop broke…?’ Well fuck. Of course I can, I can casually and confidently just say that my laptop fell out of my hand when I was trying to reach up for a biscuit with my other free hand. Yeah, I can totally say that. Fucking clumsy ass _________. Showing your broken laptop to Xiaojun, you took a deep breath and explained what led you to creating the product you were showing to him. You did not want to look at his disappointed face. You literally met this gorgeous guy for the first time, and you do not want your lungs to explode on the spot for your high quality embarrassment. After telling him your reason to why your laptop broke, you could feel his piercing eyes looking at your sulking frame. In your mind, he was piercing your body with a spear.

‘So you’re telling me that your hand just… gave up on you when you were reaching for the biscuits, and it just, crashed to the floor?’ Precisely Xiaojun. Precisely. You nodded slowly at him, unsure if you wanted to run away from the store and never come back and show your face to him ever again. ‘Well, that is a first for me. A much more interesting story than I expected to be honest. Come on ________, let’s take a quick look at what we can do.’ He says in a surprisingly cheerful tone, only causing you to look up at the pretty man immediately, only to see nothing but a smile on his face. Oh?

—————————————————————————————

‘Damn, you’re a History major? At fucking Tsinghua University? Damn, that’s really impressive,’ Xiaojun exclaims as he replaces your horrendously damaged screen. You were just telling him about how you needed your laptop to finish off you research on Japanese invasion of Korea, otherwise known as the Imjin War from 1592 to 1598. It was pretty interesting for you, but you didn’t exactly had the need to tell him about your research in full depth. You didn’t want to bore anyone with it, no matter how much that hurt to say that internally.

‘Well, thank you. How ‘bout you? When did you start being so… techie?’ You asked, watching him screwing the new laptop screen. Right after the words left your mouth, you felt him tense a bit from the way his gripped the screw harder. Did you say something wrong?

‘I was actually a theatre student, then my father passed away so I took over the shop…’ Oh. Unconsciously biting your lower lip, you were not sure what to say anymore. You weren’t even sure if you should talk. Deciding to stay quiet until he fixed your laptop, your head naturally dropped, your eyes watching your two thumbs fiddling with another. Xiaojun noticed your sudden change in posture; you were making yourself smaller. Taking in a deep breath, he knew that it wasn’t your fault to suddenly change the mood. You didn’t even know anything about it, you literally just met him. He couldn’t have expect you to know everything about him the moment the two of you exchanged looks.

‘It’s alright __________, you didn’t know. Now instead of keeping quiet over there, why don’t you tell me how the hell did you become roommates with that crazy ass friend of mine.’ He says, cutting the tension in the room to hopefully lighten the atmosphere. And he genuinely did wanted to make you feel at ease, you could tell with the way he looked at you. The moment you lifted your head, it was clear that he genuinely wanted to let you know that what you did was okay, and there was nothing to feel sorry about. You smiled at him, somewhat trusting his word, although you didn’t exactly know why you have to trust him in the first place. But, it just felt right.

‘U-um, it’s really nothing special’ you stuttered, trying to keep your shit together without trying to feel like pure crap. Which was already too late, but you still gave it a go. This tech dude was making you feel that you were alright for some reason. ‘I was looking for a roommate cause the apartment I currently live in is a bit pricey for one person. I kinda just asked my friends if they knew anyone who needed to move, and that’s honestly how I met Yuqi. She’s lovely, but she can be quite intimidating at some times. But lovely!’ Trying not to say anything wrong. You did not want to go through another mini meltdown.

‘Yuqi is scary as shit, that I can agree with. I don’t know about “lovely” though’ Xiaojun chuckles, and if you didn’t think you were falling for this tech guy, well you lied. His little chuckle only further complimented his soft aura, and his naturally nice personality just makes it even easier to just admire him.

————————————————————————

‘Alright here you go _______. Screen is brand and new, and zero cracks.’ Ha, thank you Xiaojun.

‘Well thank you, I honestly thought this would take more than a day to fix.’

‘It usually takes 1 hour, but yours took 3 hours to fix… so you weren’t wrong with the length of the time.’ Oh.

‘Right, of course. Well, thank you so so so much Xiaojun. How much does it cost again?’

‘Actually, you don’t have to pay. It’s alright ______.’ Your eyes widened at his words, what the fuck did her say? Ya’ll live in China for fucks’ sake, sure communism is a thing, but capitalism is still at the top.

‘I’m sorry what? It took your 2 more extra hours than usually and expensive ass crap to ease my clumsiness, I don’t think you want to get nothing in return.’ You said, not wanting to hear any more of his nonsense. He just smiles at you, closing your laptop and handing it to you.

‘Well if you put it that way, then yeah. I’ll give you a discount though, you made my job easier today despite the longer hours.’ It would be a lie to say that your cheeks didn’t go red from what he said. If he implied that your company made his job more fun, perhaps, you died internally. Perhaps. You handed the cash to the tech guy, only for you to leave his shop looking like a tomato with the image of his beautiful smile embedded in your brain. Goddammit Xiaojun.

If Xiaojun thought that was the last time we was able to see you, that would be a complete lie. Let’s just say that you were running to classes with your backpack zipper open, and only one of the straps were actually hanging for its dear life. And let’s just say that your laptop may have fell out, and fell flat on the concrete ground. Well, I guess you’re going to the tech guy again.

a/n: HELLLO EVERYONEEEEEEEE. so this took longer than i thought but here iT is. school has been closed for almost 2 weeks now because the virus, and i hope everyone else is taking care of their hygiene even more. yesterday was my birthday, but it honestly didn’t feel like it cause h a h a school decided to give us a load of shit to do since we had no school, so i was focusing on those. BUT BUT BUT BUT the KICK IT MUSIC VIDEOS JDNISDFNIJFNIJ anD the alBUM holy fuck actually what the literal fuck. taeil’s high note, MY BBY yuta has lines, haechan served, and fucking johnny... this is HIS era ya’ll. i really like elevator and pandora’s box the most, but lmao sit down is by far the most different(?) note euphemism djksjks idk how to explain it. kneeways, i hope ya’ll have a good day/night. 

[smallcrystals]

17 SCIFLASH PLZ

JSHDJSJ YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

———

The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard slowly grew more apparent to Flash’s ears as he stirred awake. The boy caught himself drifting away from his dream and turned his head the other way in an attempt to fall back asleep. Though, unfortunately for him, the sound grew louder and he furrowed his brows, a silent, breathy groan escaping from his lips.

He blinked again to clear the blurriness, only to squint when a bright light pierced his sight. Flash whined, lip curling in frustration as he covered part of his sight. The room was dark, lights turned off, but there was a low purple hue painting the room instead of the usual monochrome colour. Flash rubbed at his eyes with his left hand, gulping down a shiver from sleeping shirtless, and he narrowed his eyebrows even more when he spotted Twilight sitting by her desk, typing away at her laptop with her hair in a mess, glasses slightly wonky on her face.

“Babe?” Flash said, pausing at how hoarse his voice sounded.

Twilight shot her head to him, eyes adorably wide, hands freezing on the keyboard. “Oh! Y-you’re awake!” She squeaked, putting on a smile, one Flash knew was a tired and forced one. Twilight turned to her laptop, slightly baring her teeth in regret. “Sorry… did I wake you up?”

Flash wet his lips. He went with: “You kinda did.” He jerked his right shoulder a bit since he had it under the pillow ever since he fell asleep. “What time is it?”

Even with the room being so dimly lit, Flash could see his girlfriend’s face going a little red and he wasn’t really sure why, but he had a number of guesses.

“Um…” Twilight stole a glance at the bottom corner of her laptop screen and bit her lip. “Twelve am…?” She said with an awkward smile. Flash cocked his head, arching a brow, sitting up on the bed. He slipped his right arm out from under the pillow, leaning on it. Twilight blushed more.

“Don’t lie to me, Twi,” Flash said with a slightly smirk. He knew her too well; it was most definitely not twelve am. “What time is it?” he asked again.

Twilight’s shoulders sank in defeat. “Two thirty-four am.”

He sighed loudly, running his free hand through his hair. “Twi…”

“I know, I know,” she started, wincing. “But I need to get this done!” She gestured to her laptop’s blaring white screen. Flash moved to see what was on it and it was the damn Chemistry project they were assigned to do in pairs.

Flash rolled his eyes playfully. “That’s due for another three weeks!” he yelled in a whisper.

“Do you know me?” Twilight scoffed, fixing her glasses, much to Flash’s misery. She looked cute, he pouted internally.

“Twi, come on,” Flash shoved the covers off with his foot and pulled himself up, sitting at the side of the bed. He stirred a bit at the sudden movement since he was still half-asleep, voice deeper than normal (especially since they had to keep it down, Twi’s parents were home), and then shot her a look. “Just finish the sentence you’re on and come to bed,” he said.

“Flaaaaash,” Twilight whined, tightening her already knot-filled ponytail. “It’s just a little bit! I can finish it, you go back to bed.” She returned to clicking on her laptop.

“Twilight, come on, we’ve got school tomorrow,” Flash groaned. He stood from the bed, lifting his sweatpants further up his hips, and walked over to her desk in the corner of her room. The light from her screen grew brighter, annoying Flash’s already crappy eyesight. “And you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

She said, in a struggling, exhausted voice.

“Twi.”

“Don’t,” Twilight said, grasping the top of her laptop and pulling it away from Flash even though his hands were nowhere near it. “I can finish it in time!”

“In what time?” Flash’s shoulders dropped. He honestly just wanted to be back in the comfort of Twilight’s bed covers, not standing by her desk which was by the window, meaning he could feel the night breeze coming through the gaps. He rubbed his bare arms. “Twilight, we can do it tomorrow during our free period. I know you’re tired.”

The girl looked up at him, taking in his concerned expression. Flash watched her façade fall under his eyes, the confident grin collapsed to a fatigued smile, eyes cascading down to the ground.

“Hm?” Flash rested his left hand on her shoulder, the other coming up to cup her jaw. He gestured to her bed.

“I…” Twilight looked at her document. “I just want us to get a good grade on this.”

“And we will! I trust us, Twi, and I trust you. You've never gotten us a bad grade on any of these projects and that isn't going to start now. But you need sleep, baby.”

She gazed between him and the Chem project. “Only if you promise not to leave it until last minute, okay?”

Flash smiled and nodded, shaking some sleep off with that. “Pinkie Promise.”

The end of Twilight’s eyebrow rose at that and she pouted. “Do it properly.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. Happy?”

Twilight nodded cutely. “Very.” She nuzzled her cheek into Flash's hand, planting a light kiss on his palm before glancing at her screen, checking if her file had saved before shutting her laptop off to sleep. Flash took a step back as she packed away her resources, slotting them into their correct and original places. His eyes darted back to the BTS posters he got for her on her birthday and smiled at the way she quickly checked to see if they didn’t fall off.

“Did you go to the bathroom?” Flash asked in a soft voice. Twilight took off her glances and placed them on the bedside table, wandering towards Flash.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, resting her head against Flash’s bare chest. In his hold, she felt so heavy already. She definitely needed sleep.

“Okay, good.” He let her go first, watching her slide gingerly into the covers, trying to keep her balance. She sat on the bed to fix her hair and Flash giggled at the way she cringed at the mess. “Dealing with that tomorrow?” he asked.

“Dealing with that tomorrow.”

He crawled into the covers with her, sighing at finally returning to the warmth – that now doubled due to her with him. He loved holding her, Twilight holding him, just feeling her body warmth radiating onto him. Everything about her was warm.

Twilight made grabby hands at him, to which Flash had to control the urge to coo at – God, she was so adorable – and he moved closer.

She touched her nose with his, giggling ever so lightly, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. Flash’s fingers found their way to her soft jaw, holding it as he deepened the kiss a little. After three, no, wait, five kisses, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, reveling in her giggles.

Her hand came down to Flash’s waist, and of course Flash didn’t miss the way she slid her hand up and down the side of his torso (the girl took a massive liking to Flash’s slightly hourglass figure), and rested on the dip, pulling him to her so there wasn't a gap between their bodies.

“Goodnight,” Flash whispered against her lips and he felt Twilight smile in the dark.

“Goodnight.”

———

sooo uh i got a little carried away with this one, it’s literally 1.2k words SKDKSKD but i hope you guys enjoyed this!! sorry it's a little late 🥺 ♡

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: your crush begins to get more intense for Wanda, ensuing awkwardness between you both

warning/s: none

author's note: so glad you’re all liking this, here’s part two! 🥰

part one | part three | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I knew it was a dream as soon as it began. Dreams never tricked me as I always detected something didn't feel right and figured out it wasn't real. But that was my only 'talent' with dreams, as everything else was left down to my subconscious. I couldn't control them, break away from the script or deviate from the scene in any way. I just knew when it wasn't real.

Admittedly, it took a little longer for me to recognise this one was a dream compared to others I'd had. It just seemed so normal as I headed into Chemistry class, seeing other students filing in and joining their partners. Mr. Hale was at the front of the class, occupied by his laptop and the projector, and it felt like any other day at school. The lights were off and the blinds were closed slightly, leaving the room in darkness except for the light from the board.

"Are we watching a film or something?" I asked Wanda as I set my bag on the desk beside her, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notepad and smiled widely, blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "You're here, you took forever!"

"You saw me two lessons ago," I teased, taking a seat beside her.

She moved closer to me, hands immediately moving to my left one, playing with my fingers mindlessly. It felt right at the time, but I knew deep down that this wasn't real. In what world would this happen?

"Still," she mumbled adorably, before meeting my eyes. "We're watching some video about the periodic table."

I hummed, glancing at Mr. Hale as he struggled to pull up the video.

"Thank God because I couldn't be bothered doing work," Wanda added with a sigh, before moving closer to me, leaning on the palm of her hand as the other held mine still. "D'you think you can cover for me whilst I sneak in a nap?"

I stifled a laugh, moving closer and admiring the way her eyes changed colour in the light from the board. "I'm sure you're supposed to be paying attention."

She scrunched her nose, an uninterested smile on her lips, and it made my heart flutter.

"Fine, I'll cover for you," I gave in easily, before pressing a kiss to her nose.

She giggled quietly and when I pulled back, she leaned in and kissed my lips. Her free hand moved to the back of my neck as I rested mine on her lap, closing my eyes and falling into her without question. Okay, so yeah, definitely a dream, but I wasn't complaining.

"If Miss Maximoff and Miss Y/L/N can kindly stop making out, then we can begin the lesson," Mr. Hale announced, breaking Wanda and I's kiss.

Some of the class snickered as we separated from each other's hold, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He gave us a fed up look.

"Thank you," he said, before erupting into a speech about today's lesson.

When he started the video, I leaned forward on the desk to get comfortable and felt Wanda do the same, leaning her head on my arm and continuing to play with my hand. I smiled to myself, kissing the top of her head gently before getting comfortable. It all seemed too good to be true, but God was it a nice thought.

When I woke up the next morning with butterflies in my stomach, I groaned loudly. I knew I'd screwed myself over. I was in too deep. Dreaming about Wanda was not good, not good at all...

And it definitely didn't help when I showed up to class that same day, approaching my table and an already-seated Wanda. Just a dream, I told myself as I took a seat. Not real. And not a big deal.

"Good morning," she greeted when I sat down and pulled my books out. Her usual picture perfect smile was on her lips as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

Trying my best not to think about my dream, I gave her a small smile. "G-good, yeah."

Fuck me, why did I stutter?

"You sure? You seem distracted," she noticed, making me swallow hard and look away from her piercing gaze.

"Yeah," I managed to say without stuttering once again. "Just tired. What about you?"

"Same," she said with a breathy chuckle, her leg brushing mine under the table and making me freeze. She didn't seem to notice as she continued, "I stayed up late binge-watching Netflix. Probably the wrong choice, but here we are."

I bit my lip to contain a laugh, relaxing a little. It was just a dream. She wasn't that bad. I was fine!

Class started and Mr. Hale was explaining something about doing a practical experiment today, but if I'm being honest, I was barely listening. Stuck in a daydream, I was wiggling my pen in my right hand and staring at the display behind Mr. Hale's head mindlessly.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on mine, pressing it to the table and stopping me from shaking my pen. I shit you not, my heart stopped when I saw Wanda smirking playfully at me.

"D'you mind?" she asked, clearly finding my wiggling pen distracting.

All I could think about was how soft and warm her hand was, and then I became aware of her bare leg still brushing against mine – she just had to wear a dress today, didn't she? – and then the fact that she was still staring at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. My dream from last night returned to mind as she was still yet to remove her hand and I was lucky I managed to find my words as I choked out a response.

"S-sorry," I said, frozen in place, yet again, by Wanda's presence.

She snickered, shaking her head at my dismay, before finally letting go of my hand. I licked my lips nervously and let go of my pen, but not quite finding the energy to move my hand. I could still feel the warmth of her hand lingering on mine and, oh God, this was getting worse by the second. Why did I have to have that stupid dream?!

Clearly distracted by my own stupidity, I failed to realise that Mr. Hale had let us begin with our experiment, whatever that may be as I wasn't listening. Wanda was nudging me slightly, bringing me back into reality, and said something about getting lab coats and goggles whilst I got the bunsen burner.

I watched her leave and massaged my head, telling myself to get my act together. I was not the stupid cliché of a girl who acted nervous around her crush. I was better than that, goddamn it.

After getting the bunsen burner, I hooked it up to the gas tap as Wanda returned with our lab coats and safety goggles. We both put them on before Wanda gave me a knowing look, humoured smile tugging at her lips. I was beginning to hate (love) that look.

"You totally weren't paying attention during that, were you?" she asked, but she definitely already knew the answer.

"'Course I was," I played it cool, before wandering over to the handout on our desk. "We're doing an experiment."

She chuckled as I distracted myself with reading the instructions.

"So it says the first instruction is to boil some water in a beaker," I said with a nod. "Seems easy enough. Just gotta get a beaker."

My mouth went dry when Wanda hunched down on the desk, reading the paper between us. I hoped she couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest.

"You think you can manage that one?" she teased, glancing up at me with that same playful smirk on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, similar to the one her twin possessed on a regular basis, and I'd never felt more stuck in place in my life than I did now. Without thinking, my gaze lowered to her lips and I realised then and there how badly I wanted to feel her lips against mine for real. She was so close I could move forward a mere few inches and feel it, but I didn't.

"Y-yeah, I'll get it now," I stumbled out, before literally stumbling over the stool as I made a move to leave.

I tried to ignore the way her gaze followed me and instead focused on getting to the beakers without passing out. To my relief, Y/BF/N was also collecting a beaker for him and his partner, too. When I stopped by his side, he looked up to see who it was, then smiled.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing my panic.

I shook my head frantically. "Definitely not. This is really bad, Y/BF/N."

Y/BF/N furrowed his brows, making me give him the look, to which he eventually followed what I meant.

"What happened?" he asked, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement.

I made sure nobody was nearby or could hear us before admitting, "I had a dream."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making me slap him on the arm quickly.

"Not that kind of dream, you perv," I clarified, before sighing. "But a dream. About you-know-who. And it threw me off and now I can't seem to act like a human."

He snorted as he tried not to laugh. I glared at him, shoving him again, making him laugh out loud.

"I'm sorry," he defended. "It's just– you've got it bad."

"Very helpful." I narrowed my eyes.

"Look, it's new which is why you're all awkward," he said knowingly, collecting his beaker. "It'll eventually pass when you get used to it. Until then, try not to do anything stupid."

"Too late," I mumbled under my breath.

He patted me reassuringly before leaving. I grabbed a beaker and turned around, deciding to take it easy. I'd get over it. I always did. I wasn't stupid. Yeah, I wasn't stupid. I had this!

But that thinking immediately went out the window when I approached our workspace and saw Wanda leaning on the desk, looking over the handout with thought. Her hair was pulled back for safety reasons, exposing her tensed jaw and pursed lips. She was wearing her lab coat over her black, knee-length dress and I'm not gonna lie, she looked extremely sexy today because she was wearing matching black knee-high boots. I gulped.

God help me.

—

You'd be relieved to know that my crush on Wanda died down after a while. Not in the way that I no longer had a crush on her – God knew I was overflowing with feelings for her – but in the way that I was getting a lot better at hiding it.

Which was perfect for when I saw her with her dick of a boyfriend. You'd be surprised how many times he kept popping up. And when he did, I always seemed to want to strangle him.

This time, I was working my new part-time job at a pizza place in town. Y/BF/N was keeping me company on my shift by taking extra long to finish his pizza so we could talk at the counter. I was drying some glasses as we spoke when the door to the parlour opened and the bell jingled, signalling new customers.

"I believe that's your cue," Y/BF/N teased, making me roll my eyes playfully.

My gaze wandered to the door where I saw a small group of teens walking in and finding a seat. It took me a second to realise that it was actually Wanda and her friends, including her boyfriend, who were looking for a table. My eyes widened with surprise as she looked around. Her eyes found mine and an excited smile appeared on her face as she waved to me.

"This just keeps getting better," Y/BF/N said when he saw Wanda heading our way, thankfully without her friends.

I pinched him before straightening up and plastering my best customer service smile on my lips. Wanda stopped before me, smiling between Y/BF/N and I.

"Hey, guys," she greeted brightly, to which Y/BF/N smiled in return, before looking my way and making my stomach flip at how pretty she looked today. "Y/N, I didn't know you worked here!"

"Yeah, it's kinda new," I answered coolly. "Gotta get that extra money, right?"

She nodded before grabbing the tip of my cap on my head and wiggling it, letting out a laugh. "You look adorable in your uniform, I must say."

I forgot how to breathe as she let go of my cap, her eyes still glittering with joy. Y/BF/N tried to hide his laughter as he sipped his drink, meanwhile I felt my neck heating up with embarrassment.

"Th-thanks," I got out nervously. I know what you're thinking – I said I got better at hiding my crush. And I have! I just– why did she have to put me on the spot like this?!

"I should get back," she said after a moment, pointing over her shoulder towards her friends. "But it was nice seeing you. Are you serving us?"

I nodded, regaining composure. "I'll be over in a minute. Give you chance to pick something."

"Awesome," she said sweetly, flashing me a final smile before heading back to her friends.

I released a shaky breath when she left, taking my cap off and massaging my head momentarily.

"I feel like she flirts with you just to see what happens," Y/BF/N said with amusement.

"It's just her personality," I mumbled, before putting my cap back on and taking a deep breath. "Time to work."

I continued to do my job as usual, thankfully not being affected by Wanda's presence, and took their orders. It was pretty uneventful as I served them their food and continued to hang with Y/BF/N by the counter. Every time I'd look over at her out of bad habit, I'd feel uneasy at the sight of Nate having his hands all over her. I mean, obviously he could – he was her boyfriend – but admittedly, I was a little jealous. I tried to ignore the feeling by busying myself with other things.

Wanda's friends were being a little noisier and rowdier than I'd liked, but it wasn't particularly busy so I saw no need to shut them up. Yeah, in hindsight, maybe I should have.

Clearing a table after some customers left, I balanced a tray of glasses in my hand and headed back to the counter. But on the way, a football came out of nowhere and got launched at my chest, making me drop the tray onto the floor with a loud crash. The rowdiness from Wanda's table ceased momentarily, as did the chatter from other customers, and I looked up to see Nate and his friends watching me, trying to suppress laughter.

"I am so sorry," Nate called with anything but guilt.

"Shit, Y/N, you okay?" Y/BF/N said, racing to my side in an instant.

I nodded, clenching my jaw, and bent down to clean up the mess. My boss must have heard the commotion as she came out from the kitchen and saw what happened, putting two and two together.

"Right, all of you out," she ordered without questioning anything, looking to Nate and the rest of the table. "We don't tolerate that tomfoolery here."

They groaned their complaints, but I didn't bother looking up to see, instead focusing on cleaning up the mess. Luckily for me, the tray took most of the hit rather than my chest, so unlike last time, I wasn't hurt.

"You're lucky I'm not charging you for the broken glasses, honey," my boss continued to scold Nate as he walked past, grabbing his football.

I saw feet shuffling past me, presuming it was their table leaving, and focused on picking up the large shards of glass and putting them on the tray. Y/BF/N helped out, even though he didn't need to, and I smiled at him as he knelt opposite me doing the same.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda's voice grabbed my attention, making me look up. She had a guilty frown on her lips as she looked between the mess and I.

I stood up, shaking my head. "It's fine. It's–" But I stopped speaking, instead letting out an exhausted sigh. "No offence, but your boyfriend is a dick."

She pressed her lips together, not saying anything. I felt bad for saying it, but this was the second time he'd hit me with his stupid ball. It was true.

"I should clean this up," I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "See you at school."

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. I knelt down and continued to clean up, hoping she'd walk away already. This was awkward enough as it was.

"See you guys at school," she finally spoke, making me pause. "Sorry, again."

Y/BF/N bid her a goodbye before she left for good. I let out another sigh, deciding not to say anything as I continued cleaning up. It would never make sense to me why someone as lovely as Wanda would be with someone as obnoxious as Nate. I guess I'd never know.

—

Since that lovely incident at the pizza parlour, things had been a little distant between Wanda and I. Mostly on my part if I'm being honest. I couldn't help it – the whole situation had been uncomfortable and embarrassing, making it impossible to return to how we usually were.

This meant that Wanda was the one to come to me and check in, which I definitely wasn't expecting.

I was at home one afternoon, hanging with my older sister who was staying with us for a week. She'd moved out a year ago, getting her own place a few towns over, so I missed her presence a lot. I took advantage of her weekly visit by having a catch up as we played basketball in the front drive.

Disclaimer: none of us were good at basketball, but the hoop came with the house and it was simply tradition for us to attempt to shoot baskets as we had a catch up. Only, this time, as we were talking, a loud car engine pulled us from our chat and we both spun around to see an unfamiliar car parking up.

"That must be mum's customer," Y/S/N realised, holding the basketball underneath her arm. She glanced at me with a quirked brow. "You think we're gonna get roped into helping?"

"Most definitely," I answered with a chuckle, and just on cue, our mum opened the garage door behind us.

She was a florist and had a large pick-up delivery for a customer today. Apparently they were a good friend, so she had the flowers delivered to our house and they were waiting in our garage until now.

"Can you girls give me a hand?" she asked my sister and I, motioning for us to go to her. "I'm gonna say hi. Just start bringing the crates out, yeah?"

We both saluted playfully before watching her go to the customer's car. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was – Wanda's mum. And to top things off, Wanda and Pietro were both with her, the three of them getting out of their car and greeting my mum with smiles on their faces.

"You cool?" my sister asked, nudging me slightly.

I closed my mouth, straightening up. "Yeah, yeah, duh."

She gave me a funny look but grabbed a crate and began to leave it in the drive for the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and did the same, knowing both Wanda and Pietro were approaching us after my mum pointed them our way.

"Y/N, hey," Wanda said, stopping before my sister and I. She gave my sister a friendly smile before looking to me with nervous eyes. "It's good to see you."

I tried to say something – anything – but my words got stuck in my throat and all that came out was a weird noise. Partially because of the awkwardness between us at my fault and partially because of how pretty she looked in her sundress.

"Hi, I'm Y/S/N," my sister cut in, noticing my quietness. She gave me a sideways glance before looking to the twins. "It's Wanda and Pietro, right?"

"Yeah," Wanda said with a smile, eyes lingering on mine before looking to my sister. "We're just helping our mum out to load the car."

"I'm the muscle," Pietro joked, lifting his bicep, making Wanda roll her eyes jokingly.

"Okay, muscle, you can come help me get these out the garage," my sister played along before looking to Wanda and I. "You guys okay to load the car?"

Wanda nodded. "Sure thing."

Y/S/N grabbed Pietro, who shot me a friendly smile, before leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Your sister seems nice," Wanda tried to make conversation as we both grabbed a crate and took it to the back of her mum's car.

"Yeah," I agreed uncomfortably. "She's just visiting."

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment, neither of us knowing what else to say. We walked past our chatting mothers before setting the crates in the back of her mum's car.

"Are we okay?" Wanda asked suddenly, as soon as our hands were free. I looked to her and saw she was debating something internally before looking to me. "I mean, I know we're okay, but I just– I feel like you've been off since, well... since Nate threw that ball at you."

My neck heated up with embarrassment as I cleared my throat; my eyes fell to the flowers in the crates.

"I really am sorry," she apologised again, resting a hand on my forearm, sending shivers up my spine. "He can be such a jerk sometimes. Does stuff without thinking."

"You don't need to apologise," I said, finally lifting my eyes to meet her anxious green ones. And I meant it – Nate's idiocy wasn't her fault and it was harsh of me to make her seem like it was. I sighed, knowing my distant behaviour would end here. "We're good, Wanda."

She still seemed uncertain. "You sure?"

I gave her my best smile, hoping she knew I meant it. "I'm sure."

Her tense shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile spread across her face. "Okay, good. I'm glad."

She held my gaze and I just knew my heart was beating too fast to be useful as she did. She was just so beautiful.

"You know, the whole point of splitting into teams was to be done quicker," Pietro's voice interrupted our staring contest.

He stepped between us, glancing between us with amusement, before setting a crate in the back of the car.

"Right, yeah, we were just on our way back," I said, smiling sheepishly.

Pietro smirked. "No harm no foul, princess."

I was taken aback slightly as he called me that, and even more taken aback when he plucked a flower from the crate and offered it my way.

"For you," he said, half joking and half serious.

Unsure what to say, I accepted the flower. "Er, thanks... I think."

Wanda crossed her arms behind him, eyes narrowed in his direction. I wondered what she was thinking, but never got the chance to ask as their mum's voice called out to us.

"Pietro, I paid to use the bouquets," she said with mild distress, "not so you could ruin them."

His cheeks flushed as he called back, "Sorry!"

I tried not to laugh as the three of us headed back to get the rest of the crates, being sure to set the flower to the side. We ended up filling her car with the bouquets before facing our parents as we bid them a goodbye.

"They're lovely, Y/M/N," Wanda's mum was complimenting the flowers. "Thank you again."

My mum patted her back. "Anytime, dear." She looked between the twins and my sister and I. "Thank you all for helping out."

Y/S/N and I smiled her way as Wanda's mum nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you!" she added, looking to Y/S/N and I. "It's so great to see you all together. Especially you two, Wanda and Y/N. It's nice to know you're good friends after so long of barely speaking."

Wanda's face was beginning to turn pink as I'm sure mine was doing the same.

"Yes, I agree," my mum said with a smile. "Anyway, we won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the banquet!"

Wanda and Pietro waved goodbye to Y/S/N and I before joining their mum in the car. I followed her figure subconsciously, butterflies floating in my stomach until their car was gone.

"Damn, I really missed a lot," Y/S/N said when they were gone, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and tugging me closer. "You're crushing hard."

Instantly, I looked to her. "What? What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes, letting go of me. "So we're playing that game. Okay. I'll bite."

As she began to walk away, I chased after her. "What game? Y/S/N? What are you talking about?"

She merely laughed and allowed me to chase her, wondering how the hell she knew of my crush on Wanda. Was I that obvious?

[thomas-mvller]

Tag games x 283129

Hello everyone so uh lately i've started to be more active on my music sideblog which means i've been hearting stuff like crazy for the past couple of months aka all the things i've been tagged in has been buried under all that nonsense SO because i hate leaving things undone i thought on doing them all at once and tagging a bunch of people so they can get a little distraction by doing them (as in, not all of them but whichever they might want to do)

Again: you do not have to do all of them, not even one if you don't feel like doing so! there's a game for everyone so hey!

Tagging: @havertsz @foreverbayern @germanynts @sherlockisonfire @debushit @sadiiomane10 @miasanmuller @elishamanning @abcde-fc @bbjim @littletentaclemonster @tamtam-elizabeth @minimalloss @pearfight and whoever wants to do this! if you see it, consider yourself tagged >:))

Alright, here we go:

1) I was tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth and @/sadiiomane10 to post a capture of my lockscreen, homescreen and last song i listened to. Thank you both <3

I used to be very annoying when it came to changing my lock/homescreen so now i just don’t do that often anymore (previous to that my homescreen was a pic of lfc winning ucl OBVIOUSLY) also i haven’t really been listening to music lately but i did have a depeche mode phase like two weeks ago and this was the song i replayed the most so hey!

///

2) “Get to know me” tag

Tagged by the always thoughtful @/tamtam-elizabeth , thank you and i’m sorry for taking so long ;-; <3

Name: Cloud

Birthday: sometime in november

Zodiac Sign: scorpio

Height: 5′4′’ or 1.65 (last time i checked..... which was like seven years ago)

Hobbies: lately it has been sewing facemasks 😂 that aside i like watching movies, random videos on yt, baking and crafting sometimes

Favorite colors: black, red and teal

Favorite Book: don’t think i have one :o

Last Song Listened to: barrel of a gun by depeche mode

Last Movie Watched: currently watching prince of egypt. if that doesn’t count then ben hur 😂

Inspiration or Muse: i really don’t know what to say here 😂

Dream Job: i still haven’t given up to my goal but at this point i just want a job that gives me stability and zero worries

Reason Behind my URL: Thomas Müller (German pronunciation: [ˈtoːmas ˈmʏlɐ]; born 13 September 1989) is a German professional footballer who plays for Bundesliga club Bayern Munich. A versatile player, Müller plays as a midfielde- okay no in all seriousness yess this url is bc of a football player 😂

///

3) Ten songs playlist tag

Tagged by the joy that is @/foreverbayern and the always sweetest @/havertsz . thank youuuuu <3

Rules: We’re snooping through your playlist. Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs and then choose 10 victims.

Some months ago I made the mistake of transfering the songs i had in my old computer to my current laptop and there are some stuff that just........ should not be acknowledged so i can’t do shuffle HOWEVER i will choose ten random songs i’ve listened to/discovered this year (technically speaking is the same) so here it is:

art-i-ficial by x-ray spex

sunny afternoon by the kinks

desire lines by lush

paper cuts by incubus

pure love by hayley williams

spirit by bauhaus

no one knows by screaming trees

let’s love by suho

all we need is a dream by cheap trick

cosmonauts by fiona apple

bonus: you’re so close by peter murphy (god i adore this song)

I wouldn’t be surprised if these aren’t your cup of tea tbh 😂

///

4) “Core aesthetic” tag

Tagged by @/havertsz - i’m sorry for the delay ;-; and thank you <3

rules: search your name + "core aesthetic" on pinterest, get a moodboard & select a few photos that come up

i can’t really use pinterest so i googled it instead, as you might’ve guessed this is what i got 😂

ps: i’ve been informed not to use pinterest so if you wish follow this post’s indications

ah this is so pretty, i loved doing this!

///

5) 

Tagged by @/germanynts @/havertsz and @/elishamanning to do this tag, thank you all <3

rules: describe yourself with pictures you already have saved. no downloading or searching for new ones. then tag 10 people.

if you want further explanations for each pic... ask ahead 😂

///

6) “bold what applies” tag

Tagged by the always enJoyable @/foreverbayern, thank yoooou <3

rules: bold what applies to you and tag a bunch of people

- Appearance

I am over 5’5 // I wear glasses/contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing over tight clothing // I have one or more piercings (had three...) // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look  // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball caps backwards

- Hobbies and interests

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with my friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

Relationships

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush  // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // my parents are together // I have hooked up with my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

- Aesthetic

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep (i did that for a long time and i sicnerely don’t recommend it) // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire (quick story time: one time when i was 12 my friends and i sneaked into our seniors’ school anniversary activities and they lit this huge bonfire near the football field, it was nuts) // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean (spoopy shit) // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favourite season

- Miscellaneous

I can fall asleep in moving vehicles // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote(s) // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

///

my god this is getting embarassing i had stuff long due ;-;

7) 

Tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth. think you for thanking on me when doing tag games, i mean it :-: <3

How old are you?: 24

Surgeries?: one

Tattoos?: none yet ://

Ever hit a deer?: i have never seen one so... no 😂

Sang karaoke?: yeah... years ago 😂

Ice skated?: nope

Ridden a motorcycle?: had the chance but nope

Ridden in an ambulance?: nope

Skipped school?: a handful of times

Stayed in a hospital?: for a few hours

Broken bones?: nope

Last phone call?: i haven’t called anyone in ages 😂

Last text from?: my mom

Pepsi or coke?: coke but i don’t mind having pepsi

Favorite pie?: haven’t had one

Favorite pizza?: chorizo + corn + red pepper

Favorite season?: autumn

Received a ticket?: don’t even know how to drive

Favorite color?: black, red and teal

Sunset or sunrise?: both!

Favorite Christmas song?: don’t think i have one, maybe universe by exo?

Cupcakes or cookies?: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh good q, cookies?

///

8) “find your match” tag game

Tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth, you’re allowed to punch me in the face at this point

Rules:

Take the test

Reblog this post with what type you got

Tag 7 mutuals to do the same!

I got the Dreamer and my ideal partner would be The Innovator ?)

Seek out opportunities to collaborate with INNOVATOR types, who combine your lofty idealism with a focus on pragmatic solutions. The grounding energy of the INNOVATOR can inspire you to apply your imagination to real-world change.

that’s deep fam 😂 but okay!

///

9) “get to know me tag”

Tagged by: @/littletentaclemonster . thank you and sorry for the delay ;-; <3

nickname: cloud zodiac: scorpio height: 5′4″ / 1.65 last movie I saw: can you believe i managed to watch another thing while making this? anyway it was The celluloid closet last thing I googled: block site extension favorite musician: as of right now? depeche mode song stuck in my head: you’re so close by peter murphy other blogs: @/brltpop and @/s-lay-ing amount of sleep: as long as i can get (usually 7 or 8) lucky numbers: don’t think i have one dream job: whatever gives me stability what am I wearing: pajamas  favorite food: chinese, mexican and italian language: which ones do i know? spanish and english somewhat. i want to learn japanese and german :c can I play an instrument: nope favorite song: atm is YOU’RE SO CLOSE (8) random fact: my nails usually grow sort of square except for my thumb and index fingers, they grow round for whatever reason describe yourself in aesthetic things: ?????????? idk man, messy room? loose clothes? football? cd’s on a shelf, posters on the walls ?????

///

MY GOD WHY AM I LIKE THIS????????? 

10)

Tagged by @/littletentaclemonster you too can punch me in the face

Rules: Bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR: I have small hands • I love the night sky • I watch small animals and birds when I pass them by • I drink herbal tea • I wake to see dawn • The smell of dust is comforting • I’m valued for being wise • I prefer books to music • I meditate • I find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE: I don’t have straight hair • I like to wear ripped jeans • I play an organized sport  • I love dogs • I am not afraid of adventure • I love to talk to strangers • I always try new foods • I enjoy road trips • Summer is my favorite season • My radio is always playing

WATER: I wear bracelets on my wrists • I love the bustle of the city • I have more than one set of piercings • I read poetry • I love the sound of a thunderstorm • I want to travel the world • I sleep past midday most days • I love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs • I rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia • I see emotions in colors not words

EARTH: I wear glasses/contacts • I enjoy doing the laundry • I am a vegetarian • I have an excellent sense of time • My humor is very cheerful • I am a valued advisor to my friends • I believe in true love • I love the chill of mountain air • I’m always listening to music • I am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER: I go without makeup in my daily life • I make my own artwork • I keep on track of my tasks and time • I always know true north • I see beauty in everything (sort of) • I can always smell flowers • I smile at everyone I pass by • I always fear history repeating itself • I have recovered from a mental disorder • I can love unconditionally

Water an aether huh, i don’t know what to do with this information 😂

/////////////

if you ask me i would very much appreciate it if you do the songs playlist tag bc i need recommendations thanks. Also massive apologies to the ones that were due since last year I had them in my drafts i swear!

Stay safe everyone :D

[szivtalan]

8, 9, 16, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 50, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 62, 64, 65, 70 (aside from Kagami 😂), 71, 72, 79, 82, 86, 87, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99 for the "Asks, why not" thing please? (Omg that's soo much, I'm sorry I got carried away ^^')

8) Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)

Average height, bordering on short. Broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, square face, slightly projecting ears (one pierced, one with a stretched lobe), bushy arched brows, thick square glasses, faded dark red hair, dark brown eyes, butt chin. I look pale and perpetually sleep deprived.

9) What do you/did you study?

I was in a teacher’s training program for English and Hungarian language and literature, and I’m planning to go back to school to study sociology!

16) What do you look for in a SO?

Consciously: understanding, fun, sweet, kind and accepting. Unconsciously: somewhat broken and in dire need of emotional help which I’m desperate to provide lmao.

19) Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?

Eh, u know, it depends? I don’t think I’m fit for a serious relationship right now, so I’d prefer casual stuff atm, but on the long run I do want a partner to share my life with.

20) What are your deal breakers?

Really obnoxious people, ignorance and bigotry I guess. And I’m not keen on someone pushing or disrespecting my boundaries, either.

21) How was your day?

It was good!! My bro, his girlfriend and my friend tagged along to get our (me and my soon-to-be sis-in-law’s) ears pierced, and then my friend and I got a loot of food. I didn’t exactly feel good enough abt myself to be comfortable outside, but I got a lot of random kindness and that was Nice.

22) Favourite food & drink

Food: teriyaki chicken and seafood pasta, drink: ginger ale and iced coffee

23) What position do you sleep in?

I sleep half-curled up on my side, but I need to toss and turn a little until I find The Best Position.

25) Your fears

The dark, needles, rabbits (I don’t even know, dude), the fact that I’ll die without having made an impact on the world, being spoken about behind my back, being a bad influence on my friends.

28) Any pets?

Not right now! I used to have two rottweilers around the house growing up, but they both passed away sadly.

29) What are your hobbies?

Writing, sketching, basketball, getting on people’s nerves, researching typology, watchin movies idk?

31) What was your last awkward situation?

Asjhdh the ticket control guy told me to “Have a safe trip” and I said “You too!”. This rarely happens to me tho

32) What is your last regret?

Not holding my friend’s hand on public transport. It was…right…there….and she already told me she’s more than comfortable with physical touch! I’m a fool! Everyone thinks I hate touching but I don’t! I’m just shy!

34) Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.)

Ehh. Kind of? As for believing, I believe more in ghosts, but I do see some patterns in different signs. I just try not to let it affect the way I see/interact with a person, because no one deserves to be prejudiced for whatever reason, especially not their date of birth. Tarot is just fun, and the cards r cool

35) Have any quirks?

I bite the skin on my fingers, scratch my acne, make my knees jump… most of it is just regular anxiety stuff tho so idk?? I do think I’m quirky, but there’s just too much weird stuff to list ‘em.

36) Your pet peeves

Cig/booze stink on a person, customers being rude, bigotry, interrupting other people… There’s quite some things that annoy me asjdgd

40) Last 5 things from your search history

Boku No Hero Academia, Hawks, duck emoji, Grumman fma, How To Train Your Dragon

41) What’s your device backgrounds?

My phone lockscreen rn is a beautiful KagaKuro fanart of them standing in the rain in yukatas, Kagami looming over Kuroko and shielding him from the rain and Kuroko reaching up to stroke his face; my phone background is an art of they/them pronouns tattooed on someone’s knuckles, their posture unsure; my laptop background is a screenshot from the movie Déva, of blue skies and a street lamp.

42) What do you daydream about?

…cu..cuddling,,my…crush……..

44) What's your religion/Your thought about religion

Short version: barf

Long version: I was raised catholic (even tho I was never baptized), and attended catholic school for 8 years which gave me a really warped idea of Christianity, Which made me a cynic & an agnostic or atheist by proxy. I harshly criticize the catholic church and faith but sometimes… when I do feel hopeless I get down on my knees and pray, so I guess if I let myself find my own faith I’d be a believer. But right now, I’m good just existing in my nihilistic bubble

45) Your personality type

Needy imeanwhat. In a typological sense, I’m an INFP in Myers-Briggs, 4 core 5 wing in Enneagram, melancholic or sanguine in the temperaments, et cetera. Basically I’m a sad daydreamer with unresolved issues and a need to do Art

47) Are you happy with your current life?

Nah bro. I like my friends and my workplace but I’d like to move out of home ASAP. I’d also… like to get therapy before I go and put myself out there.

48) Some things you've tried in your life

Playing the guitar, hostess work, weed, cigarettes, being blackout drunk, smoking from a hookah, cooking, football, handball, basketball, volleyball, cycling, sailing, driving, hitchhiking long distances, folk dancing, one-night stands, long-distance relationships, helping people in need…

50) Favourite colour to wear?

Olive green, midnight/navy blue, white, grey and black.

53) If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?

I’d… like to know how it would feel if I had a flat chest and a penis? I also want bigger Guns, and Abs, some more tattoos and maybe an eyebrow piercing.

55) Do you get complimented often?

I think so? I usually brush off compliments uhhh but yeah maybe! Maybe idk

58) Songs you're currently obsessed with?

My friend’s playlist reminded me that ‘Phenomenon’ by Thousand Foot Krutch exists. I’m also really into ‘San Francisco’ by The Mowgli’s atm and ‘Golden Time Lover’ by Sukima Switch!

59) Song you normally wouldn't admit you like.

I mean, it’s not like it’s cringe or anything, I hate cringe culture BUT. I do have Ariana Grande’s ‘Side to Side’ stuck in my head rn

64) Can you sing or play any instruments?

I can sing pretty badly, play a bad tune on my guitar, drum on the edge of my table, so- Nah not really asdh

65) Do you like karaoke?

YES VERY MUCH I live and die for karaoke, last time I did it in front of an audience we sung the Shaman King opening at an anime con with friends, it was Rad

70) Your fictional crush/es

AH NO FUN Kagami’s my number one,,, let’s see then: Aomine, Roy Mustang, Kise, Mikoto Suoh, Hotch & Reid from Criminal Minds, Yagami Light, Jaime Lannister and Brienne from GoT, Rustin Cohle from True Detective, Shizuo Heiwajima from Durarara!!!, why is this list full of men I didn’t think I liked men this much

71) Which fictional character is you?

Eddie Brock from Venom I mean? He’s a whole ass mess.

79) How much time do you spend on the internet?

Yike. More than I’d be proud of.

86) Would you use death note, if you had one?

No way dude. I don’t fuck with that shit, karma would fuck me right back.

87) What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?

I’d eliminate money and power and just make it a huge peaceful hippie community or something idk

90) What would you want to happen to you after your death?

Donate me to a medical school I don’t care. Make use of me! I’m gonna be dead, I won’t have any more feelings left to be hurt or anything asdghdsg

91) If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?

I’ve had a name in mind that I tried out once, but it didn’t really work out for me after all. I’m fine with Vee and Vic rn. Anything that isn’t my given name. I do want to change my surname to my mother’s, but if I do that I also want to give myself a different first name, and since That isn’t figured out yet, I’m just?? Call me whatever dude

94) Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true

Ugh, I’m bad at these. 1) I have plenty of moles. 2) My eyesight is pretty good. 3) I’ve broken some bones before.

95) Cold or hot?

Cold in beverage, hot in weather.

96) Be a hero or be a villain?

Being a villain is way too much fun, but I have too strong of a conscience to pull that off, so… hero, I guess.

97) Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?

Asjhdf singing is funnier and more annoying, since I Cannot Sing

98) Shapeshifting or controlling time?

Dude I’m non-binary. Shapeshifting for Sure

99) Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?

Aight I’ll give in – I agree to immortality Just This Once.

[breathlester]

Three for the price of one

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

summary: ‘the holiday’ inspired au where Dan and Phil spend a promising first date until Phil leaves in a hurry, dropping his wallet. Dan returns it the next day hoping for an explanation, but gets more than he bargained for.

genre: angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, parenting, halloween/autumn

cw: references to minor character death, car accidents and trauma/injury; mentions of alcohol

"Soo ur still good 4 tonight?"

Dan taps away at his laptop nervously, waiting for the reply that comes seconds later.

- "I am indeed. x] Why, are you having second thoughts?"

He exhales, a smile forming on his face. Phil has a way of combining perfect grammar with strange emojis that makes Dan’s stomach flip over in the most pleasant way. And thinking about the effect Phil will have on him when they’re face to face for the first time in a couple of hours does absolutely nothing to calm his nerves.

"Nah just making sure haha :D" he types, ignoring the fact that he is nowhere near as relaxed as the casual “nah“ suggests.

Phil just sends a "♡" in response and Dan promptly chokes on his own saliva, hurrying to replicate the symbol, accidentally adding a second 3 to the heart. Hopefully Phil won’t think he’s overly eager. Although he is, but Phil doesn’t need to know that.

- "Can’t wait to see you, but you will have to let me leave now if you want me to be on time! ^-^"

"k, see u in 3 hours!"

- ":)"

Dan stares at the smiley face for a good half minute, his own face mirroring the expression, before he pulls himself together and logs out of the dating website.

„Right, time to choose an outfit.“

He turns around to consider the assortment of clothes laid out on his bed. His two favorite pairs of black skinny jeans, four different black t-shirts, one button-down (black) and two jackets (both black as well). At least the colour won’t be a problem...

-

Hushed beats of a slow-paced indie song sound softly through the walls and the lights are comfortably dim, the pub warm and buzzing with people, but it doesn’t have the same relaxing effect on Dan as it usually would. His eyes scan the room anxiously and his teeth torment his bottom lip. He’s about to make his way over to the bar when someone calls his name and he halts, turning and catching the eye of a tall black-haired man on the other side of the room. “Phil,” Dan says under his breath, exhaling in relief, and starts towards him.

His date is sat on one of the sofas in the corner, looking absolutely gorgeous. Even though they’ve skyped a handful of times before to make sure neither of them is a 60-year-old pervert, Dan finds himself speechless at the sight of Phil. His denim shirt is unbuttoned to reveal a turquoise t-shirt that brings out the various colours in his eyes and his black hair is pushed back to reveal his forehead. His features are clear-cut, skin as pale as if he’s carved out of marble, and he’s smiling at Dan.

“Hi,” Dan breathes, feeling himself blush and his heart beat quicken.

Phil gets up to greet him and they behold each other for an awkward moment before Phil chuckles and leans in to hug him. “Hi,” he says softly next to Dan’s ear, and it takes all of Dan’s self-control not to melt right there in his embrace, butterflies tingling his stomach. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with a delicate flowery scent.

“You smell really nice,” he blurts out as they pull away, blushing even deeper when Phil’s beautiful eyes widen.

“Oh, thank you. I don’t wear cologne a lot. It’s not too much?” he asks abashedly, glancing up at Dan, who to his own surprise is slightly taller than him.

“Not at all! It’s, uh, it’s perfect.”

Phil answers with another bright smile that catches Dan off guard and giggles when it takes him a moment to sit down.

“So, do you feel more like dancing or talking?”

“How about a drink first?” Dan suggests and Phil waves a nearby waiter over to them. “Two margaritas, please. - Unless you need to drive?”

Dan shakes his head quickly and Phil adds with a playful little wink, “They’re on me.”

-

It’s been four months since Dan stumbled across Phil’s profile on the dating website and three since he’s worked up the courage to message him. Phil, who described himself as a “wanna-be writer and muse enthusiast”, replied a day later and from then on they’ve been chatting almost non-stop. Although Phil is four years older and lives on the countryside whilst Dan is a film student from central London, they’ve bonded over a similar taste in TV shows and music. However, it has taken Dan a while to coax some more personal information out of Phil and even longer until Phil agreed to their first date – even if the other man assured him that this was only due to being busy and not because he was hesitant to meet him. To be honest, that didn’t really convince Dan since he could not imagine a self-employed writer and editor to have an immovable time schedule.

All that aside, if tonight goes well, Dan is more than willing to forget about this tiny drop of bitterness.

And so far, it’s going great.

They’ve sipped their drinks and Phil has interrogated Dan about the internship with the BBC he is currently diong in the course of his studies. In turn, he’s let Dan in on his work as an editor and his new-found obsession with house plants.

“I’ve got quite a nice garden, but there’s not much to do out there in the cold season, so I thought, why not get some green inside? Big mistake. Turns out house plants are a lot more high-maintenance! I’ve already killed two!”

Dan giggles, taking another sip of his drink. “I couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. I guess student digs just aren’t the most healthy environment.”

No matter what he’s talking about, Dan finds himself drawn in and fascinated by Phil. He’s got a uniquely funny way of telling a story that has Dan giggling like a teenager and hanging on his lips like snake bite piercings.

And his eyes sparkle when he laughs. “Oh, I like that song! Fancy some dancing?”

Feeling warm and pleasantly tipsy, Dan nods and takes the hand Phil offers him. More like I fancy you, he thinks as they take their place among couples and singles on the dancefloor in the adjoining room and after some stumbling around fall into an easy rhythm.

Phil’s arm is resting on Dan’s shoulder and it feels both casual and meaningful, like a careful experiment. The exhilarating beat of Muse’s Madness pumps through Dan’s veins and lets his spirit soar, makes him throw his head back and grin at Phil whose eyes are reflecting the flashing spotlights like lighthouses. He’s beautiful and he’s mouthing the lyrics at Dan, pulling dramatic faces, and Dan feels so good, so alive and amorous…

When the song fades into a slow-paced one, Phil’s arm slips down from his shoulder and snakes around his waist, and Dan gently pulls him closer until the other man’s chin rests on his shoulder. They sway on the spot, engulfed in each other’s presence like a small bubble in a sea of people. The butterflies in Dan’s stomach have doubled and are swirling uncontrollably.

“Hi there, again,” Phil whispers, and Dan runs his hands up his torso, feeling him shiver under his touch. “Hi.”

Slowly, his hands move from Phil’s shoulders to his cheeks and he gives him a questioning look. Phil’s forehead is pressed against his as they lock eyes and he smiles, all flushed skin and the tickling of soft hair, of warm breath. Dan glances down at his lips…

A ringtone disturbs the ballad now playing in the background and Phil recoils, his right hand darting into his back pocket immediately. Dan releases the breath he’s holding, feeling disappointment seep through him like a sudden downpour.

He catches sight of Phil’s phone screen for a second and registers against his will that the caller is a pretty blonde woman saved as “Louise” in Phil’s contacts.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Dan, I have to take this!” Phil says loudly to make himself heard above the noise, offering him a quick apologetic smile before he pushes through the crowd, away from Dan.

-

He waits for one song, then another, moving awkwardly on his own along to an unknown beat. But when the third song spins into the fourth, Dan gives up his position and goes on a search. Another couple is snogging on the sofa where they had their drinks, and Phil’s not in the queue for the toilets, nor is he sitting at the bar. Perhaps he’s outside, Dan thinks and debates whether or not it would seem intrusive to go look for him if he’s still on the phone – but then the bartender waves him over.

“You haven’t seen a man with black hair done like mine, about my height?” Dan asks hopefully.

The heavily-tattooed, rather beefy guy nods and adds, “Told me to tell you he had to leave. Seemed terribly sorry about it.”

Dan’s heart sinks in his chest like a coin dropped in a fountain. “Did he say anything else?”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to rinse the glass he’s holding. “Was in a hurry. And besides, do I look like an answering machine to you?”

“I – no. Sorry,” Dan stutters, feeling his face grow hot with disappointment and embarrassment.

The barista’s face softens slightly. “Hey, better luck next time, mate, alright?”

Yeah, Dan thinks bitterly. Except there won’t be a next time after he’s let me down like this.

There’s no point in staying if Phil’s gone. Trudging to the front door, all excitement seeped out of him, he’s close to wallowing in self-pity when his foot catches on something on the floor.

Someone’s dropped a wallet. Not just any wallet though – it’s an Adventure Time themed one.

A grin has already halfway spread across Dan’s face when he bends down to pick it up, unfolding it carefully. What kind of adult would use an Adventure Time wallet on a date in a pub?

His assumption is confirmed when his eyes fall on the card tucked into the front pocket. “Philip Lester, editor and freelance writer,” it reads, and listed below are Phil’s phone number, email and home address.

I’ll give him one more chance, Dan decides as he pockets the wallet and pushes open the door, the chilly October wind ruffling his hair. Tomorrow I’ll drop the wallet off at his place and see if he’s got an explanation for me.

He hates to admit it, but he really hopes Phil does.

-

Dan looks down at his phone once again, double-checking the small blue dot that indicates his position. “This is the middle of fucking nowhere,” he declares out loud.

Behind him, though long out of sight, lies the city of London. To the left – nothing but fields. To the right a forest is climbing up the gentle curve of a hill. And ahead there’s this bumpy path he’s been following for the past thirty minutes that was most definitely not built for motorcycle trips. He’s beginning to regret his impulsive action.

And yet the app on his phone insists that he is on the right track. Dan takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet-smelling autumn air.

“Okay, let’s give this one last shot. Another half mile and if nothing turns up then except for more scarecrows and creepy abandoned barns, I’m going to turn back and send him his wallet by mail.”

He snaps the visor of his helmet shut with a sort of final resolution and mounts his motorcycle again.

The frosty head wind makes him wish he’d worn a jumper underneath his leather jacket and Dan is about to give up when the path leads through a small grove and turns a corner – and there it is, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

A single small, ancient-looking house, leaning alarmingly to one side, its uneven stone walls covered to a large part by rampant roses, some of them still in bloom.

There’s no fence surrounding the cottage, but the letterbox in front of it bears a wooden sign that dangles in the wind and states in ornate letters “Rosery Cottage”.

Hesitantly, Dan clambers off his bike and retrieves his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. “You have reached your destination.”

The narrow path of cobblestone that leads up to the door is framed by a couple of crooked walnut trees whose leaves are scattered across the lawn. To the right, an old battered VW Golf is parked on a makeshift driveway. A pair of wellingtons stand guard on the wooden patio.

Dan takes a deep breath and starts towards the house, thinking as he rings the bell, this better be Phil and not some misanthropic old hag.

-

What he certainly does not expect is a little girl in dungarees and a yellow jumper opening the door. Her copper brown hair is braided in two rather messy pigtails, her round face dotted with freckles and there’s a bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

“You’re tall,” the girl remarks casually after looking him up and down, pinching her chestnut eyes as if he’s blinding her.

As perplexed as Dan is, the comment makes him chuckle. “Am I really?”

“Yeah… you’re like, taller than my daddy.”

The last word makes Dan’s heart pick up speed and he’s about to say, “I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong place,” when a voice drifts through the hallway, accompanied by the dulled noise of a blow-dryer.

“Who’s at the door, Liv?”

It can’t be Phil, Dan tells himself. This guy just sounds similar because the noise distorts his voice.

Phil doesn’t have any kids - right? The image of the beautiful blonde from Phil’s phone screen reappears in front of Dan’s inner eye and he draws in a sharp breath –

“A man in a leather jacket, Daddy,” the girl yells back. “He’s very tall,” she adds after a second, almost reproachfully.

There’s a moment of silence, then the noise of the hair-dryer stops abruptly and the man who sounds like Phil shouts, “I’ll be right there!”

The girl keeps her eyes trained on Dan, making him uneasy, so he lets his gaze drop away from her face. She’s holding a furled newspaper in her hand, Dan can just make out an advert proclaiming “Three for the price of one!” and underneath it a crossword, partly filled in with wonky letters.

Someone clears their throat and Dan looks up, feeling his heart take a leap.

The man facing him is wearing mismatched socks and his black hair is still wet and ruffled, but it’s unmistakably Phil.

His eyes are wide and he looks like he can’t quite decide whether to smile or not. He looks a little bit guilty, Dan thinks with a selfish trace of satisfaction, but the feeling fades when he remembers the elephant in the room – although elephant is perhaps too large a word.

“I’ll take it from here, Olivia, thank you,” Phil says to the girl and her eyes flicker from Dan to Phil and back before she turns and skips off into another room.

“Olivia,” Dan repeats, avoiding Phil’s eye until he hears the other man sigh.

“Yes, her name’s Olivia, and she’s my daughter, as you might already have guessed.”

I’d be concerned if other children than your own called you daddy, Dan thinks, but he doesn’t say it because this is not the time for a joke. It’s time for an explanation.

“So who’s Louise?” he asks at the same moment that Phil asks, “So what brings you here?”

They finally look at each other.

“Shall I go first?” Dan offers. “Right. Last night, when you, er, bailed on me – you lost something.”

He tries to sound casual but the guilt becomes more evident in Phil’s face for a moment until Dan pulls the wallet out of his pocket and holds it out to Phil, whose eyes grow comically wide.

“My wallet! Thanks, I hadn’t even noticed – oh man, I owe you -”

“An explanation? Yeah, I’d say so,” Dan says with newfound confidence.

Phil exhales. “You’re right. I have some explaining to do. - Oh god, I haven’t even asked you in yet, I’m the worst -”

He steps aside, holding the door open. “Please, make yourself at home. I know you’re probably less than elated by me right now, but I promise I can explain if you let me.”

Dan looks down at the threshold in front of him. The welcome mat he’s standing on has a pattern of sleeping cats on it. One small step for man, one giant step for Dan, he thinks dryly. If he steps into Phil’s house now and more than that, into his life, it will never be this easy to leave again.

For some reason, the image of the newspaper the girl was holding appears to him. If only life were as simple as a crossword puzzle, with only one right answer to every question.

“Tell me one more thing before I come in,” Dan asks. “Seven letter word, starting with M, or eight letters starting with D?”

Phil stares at him for a moment, then his smile falters as he gets the hint.

“Seven,” he says quietly.

Married, then – Dan thinks, a sick feeling rising in his stomach, and he’s about to turn away and leave for good, when Phil adds in an even smaller voice, “But the first one’s a W.”

-

Seven letters, starting with W. It’s just like a crossword, but it’s not an easy solution at all, and having solved it doesn’t make Dan feel any better, instead it makes him feel awful.

Widowed, he thinks, and bites down hard on his bottom lip. Widowed. Of course, that makes sense. It explains the careful pace at which Phil went about their blossoming relationship. It explains his inability to be spontaneous, and the fact that he didn’t want to talk much about his past.

Phil’s a widower, and he’s got a child, and Dan is so, so insensitive.

He looks up at Phil slowly, afraid of meeting his gaze. But Phil doesn’t look angry or as if he’s about to cry. His face is painfully composed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Phil replies, and somehow that is all it takes for Dan to step inside and pull the door shut behind him.

He hands Phil the wallet, but instead of letting him pull his hand away, Phil holds on to it.

“Thank you,” he mutters and Dan gently presses his hand.

“Daddy, Micah keeps trying to take my pen!”

The bright voice from the right makes them both flinch, and Phil gives him a little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “This way, please.”

The room to the right that they enter is the kitchen. Sunlight falls in through the windows and illuminates the large wooden table at which Olivia is sat, facing the door. The newspaper is spread out in front of her, opened to the kids’ page.

A small boy, a toddler at most, is squirming in his high chair, reaching out across the table for the pen Olivia is holding. As Olivia pulls it away from his grasp, he whimpers.

“Micah, hey!” Phil rushes towards them and takes the boy’s chubby little hand in his. “This is Livy’s pen, okay? Here, those crayons are for you. - And you, Liv – don’t be so harsh on him, you hear me? He doesn’t understand that it’s yours.”

He turns to Dan again, his face relaxing slowly. “Dan, these are my children, Olivia and Micah. Kids, this is Dan, who I was meeting up with last night.”

Dan smiles nervously as Olivia observes him, then she gives him a sudden toothy grin and turns back to her crossword.

“Here, take a seat please”, Phil says. “Do you want to drink anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee would be lovely, if it’s not too much trouble,” Dan replies, sitting down on the wooden chair next to Olivia.

“Not at all.”

As Phil is busy with the coffee machine, Dan’s gaze drops to the table. Opposite of him, Micah is scrawling something undefinable with crayons. His hair is thick and darker than Olivia’s, his eyes azure and large in his round face. He seems to have trouble controlling his crayon, his small hand is clenched in a fist around it. Dan doesn’t have a lot of experience with young children, but Micah has to be at least two years old…

“I need a word with four letters for this flowery thing, daddy,” Olivia pipes up, catching Dan’s attention. “It’s not a tree, but plant and flower don’t fit.”

He peers at the crossword she’s working on. It has pictures in front of every line instead of questions.

“Give me a moment, Liv,” Phil says, rummaging in a cupboard for a mug.

“Have you tried rose?” Dan suggests charily.

Olivia looks up at him in surprise, then back at the paper. Her letters fit neatly in the boxes. “It works! Thanks, Dan.”

He smiles charily. “You’re welcome.”

Phil places the mug of coffee down in front of him before he sits down next to the high chair. Leaning on his elbows, he hides his face in hands for a moment.

When he emerges, he looks up at Dan. “So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You wanted to know about Louise.”

Dan, who’s about to take a sip from his coffee, puts the mug down, barely avoiding a spill of the scalding liquid.

“She’s a friend who occasionally takes care of my two rascals when I’m out. She was here last night and called to tell me Micah had banged his head. Turned out to be half as bad, but I tend to panic about my baby.” He reaches out to gently brush the hair back from Micah’s forehead, revealing a small reddened bump near his hairline.

The young boy reacts promptly. “Owie.”

A caring smile lingers on Phil’s lips. “Yes, you had an owie. Does it still hurt?”

“No more owie,” the toddler babbles, shaking his head.

“Good.”

Phil withdraws his hand, turning his attention back to Dan. His smile fades. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly, I overreacted. It’s just – Micah, he was in the car when…”

His voice trails off, but Dan’s fairly sure he can finish the sentence for himself. Phil must have lost his wife, the mother of his children, in a car accident.

Before Dan can think of what to say, Phil leans towards him across the table. “That’s why he’s a bit behind in development,” he adds in a low voice.

Dan glances at the toddler who’s clearly in his own world, scribbling away at the paper in front of him (and occasionally straying over the edges onto the wooden plate of his high chair). He tries to find something to say in reply, but quickly comes to the conclusion that there isn’t anything.

And Phil doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer. As Dan looks back at him, his eyes have gone out of focus, the iridescent blue glazed over with a hazy dolour that’s impossible for Dan to grasp. With a leap of his heart he reaches out one hand and places it on top of Phil’s that’s resting on the table.

Phil’s starts, blinking at him. He doesn’t smile, and yet there’s a glint that returns to his eyes as he becomes aware of Dan’s touch. When Dan dares to gently run his thumb over the back of his hand, he doesn’t flinch or pull back.

Silence settles into the room, not empty but filled with the sound of pencil scraping against paper and the strangely reassuring noise of an old house, alive with the creaking of wood and rattling of wind at its window panes.

The mug of coffee sits in front of Dan, gradually cooling down, forgotten in the moment.

-

It’s Micah who breaks the silence eventually.

“Daddy,” he says, and Phil startles, looking up and withdrawing his hand gently from Dan’s. “Yes, darling?”

But Dan observes with a hidden delight the faint flush of pink that’s settled on his cheekbones.

“Doggy,” is all Micah says in response, and Dan thinks he’s beginning to see what Phil meant earlier. Although children are more or less a novelty to him, surely a two-year-old would be able to form simple sentences?

He is torn out of his pondering by Phil’s voice. “Go on, take it.”

Dan looks up, finding that Micah is holding a sheet of paper out to him. There’s a bunch of brown crayon lines in one corner that vaguely form the shape of an animal, but that might be just interpretation because he knows what it’s supposed to be.

“For me?”

Micah nods, his blue eyes sparkling.

Dan smiles. “That’s… very kind of you, Micah. What a beautiful dog you’ve drawn there!” He takes the edge of the sheet between his fingertips; Micah lets go with a satisfied expression on his round face.

Phil reaches out to kiss the top of his son’s head. “Good boy, Micah.”

Dan looks down at the drawing, blinking, trying to conceal how touched he is. He really isn’t accustomed to children, doesn’t know how to behave around them, but his reaction to Micah’s drawing seems to have made the boy happy.

“Daddy, when are we leaving for London?” Olivia asks. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the change of atmosphere before, much to Dan’s relief. He has no idea how she feels about him getting to know her dad. Surely it can’t be easy after she’s lost her mother…

“Another two hours,” Phil says after a glance at his wristwatch. “Are you hungry yet? We can have lunch in a bit.”

Olivia nods, putting her pen away and folding up the newspaper. “I’m done with the crossword. Correct it for me, daddy, please?”

Phil smiles. “Of course, honey. Later, yeah? Though I’m sure there won’t be much to correct.” He takes the paper from her.

“You’re going to London today?” Dan asks.

“The therapist has her office in the city,” Phil replies, adding, “can we offer you a ride?” as if the thought has just occurred to him.

“Oh, thank you, but I came on my motorbike.”

“You’ve got a motorbike? That’s so cool! Daddy won’t let me get one,” Olivia pipes up.

Dan laughs. “Oh well, you see, motorbikes are very dangerous, so your father’s right about that. You’ve got to get a license so they’ll let you drive one. And for that license you’ve got to be of age.”

Olivia pushes out her lower lip. “That’s not fair. I’m so old already. Much older than Micah who’s just a baby.”

Phil, whose face has tightened up again, reaches out and strokes a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Patience, darling. Why don’t you draw a nice picture for the therapist before we leave? I’m sure she’d love that. And I’ll go have a chat with Dan – if you don’t mind?”

The last part is directed at Dan. He shakes his head, looking at Phil.

“I’m not in a hurry.”

-

He lets Phil lead him down a hallway framed with pictures. Some are drawings by Olivia, showing what is unmistakably the cottage, or a field of flowers – or a family, complete with a stick figure in a dress and long flowing hair.

The others are photographs.

Olivia in a nice dress with her schoolbag in hand and a wide grin on her first day of school. Micah lying in his crib, smiling up at the camera. The two of them playing in the snow together.

Phil reading to Micah who’s cuddled up to him. Phil braiding Olivia’s hair. Phil with his arms around the two of them.

Phil holding a newborn baby with flimsy hair and a reddened face, a younger Olivia leaning into the picture, curiously gazing at the small human. But they’re not the only ones on the picture – there’s a woman lying in the hospital bed behind Phil, her face out of focus, but the radiating smile still clearly visible.

There are more pictures of her. Ones of her baking biscuits with Olivia kneeling on the counter, stealing batter. Her rocking Micah in her arms, her mouth opened as if she’s singing a lullaby. The woman wearing a white dress and flowers in her hair, stood next to a beaming Phil in a suit. The two of them kissing.

Dan averts his gaze. He feels like an intruder.

“In here, please.” 

Taking a deep breath, Dan steps into the room.

It’s an office, complete with an old mahogany desk and shelves of books framing the walls instead of photographs as Dan notes with relief.

There are two armchairs near the window to which Phil guides him. They sit down, and Dan waits for Phil to speak, anxious suddenly about what he will have to say.

A moment of silence stretches at Phil looks around the room, letting his gaze wander as if he were the visitor.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Phil begins with a sigh, looking at his hands. “I’m not an easy person to date. I’m not your average single person – I’m a package deal.”

The newspaper advert comes back to Dan’s mind and he mutters, “three for the price of one.”

Phil chuckles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he looks up. “You could say that, I guess… though the price might be higher I fear… You should know - in fact, you deserve to know, the truth. I’m a single father. I work around the clock. I get up at six. I cook, I clean, I comfort, I play, I sew, I fix. And at night when the kids are in bed, that’s when I find time for my actual job. I never have any free time except for when I get someone to watch my children, and I can’t do that very often, considering how far out in the country we live and…”

He breaks off, lowering his face into his hands. “I don’t like leaving them. I can’t be at ease when I don’t know exactly that they’re safe. I know they probably seem fine to you, but Olivia has nightmares and Micah rarely sleeps through. Sometimes he has crying fits that last for more than an hour. Liv has days when she’ll only speak to a photograph of her mum. Some days it’s almost alright. But it’s never easy and we’re not a perfect family. When I lost… when we lost Sophie, when she was brutally torn out of our lives by a careless driver -” his shoulders quiver as if in a quiet sob, and Dan holds back from reaching out and touching him.

“It was very hard for all of us. It’s been two years, and sometimes it still feels like there’s a hole we’ll never be able to fill completely. Once a month, I take the kids to a therapist in London. They stay there for an hour – meanwhile, I’ve got my own therapy session.”

He lifts his head slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands as if they’re particularly interesting.

“I’m a man in therapy. I’m four years older than you, and I’ve got two children who demand a lot of care and attention. I barely make enough money to scratch along. I guess what I’m saying is… Dan, I really like you.”

That’s when Phil looks up to meet Dan’s eye. Dan sits transfixed, blinking in surprise. He didn’t expected that, not after the speech Phil’s just given.

The other man looks earnest, but his eyes are misty and his face contorted in regret.

“You must have noticed that I do. Talking to you over these past months has made me happier than I’ve been for a long time, and I’m so thankful for that. Meeting you last night was a dream. I’ll never forget it. I really do like you, Dan.”

Dan swallows hard at the repetition of the statement. His eyes have begun to sting. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?” he asks, willing his voice not to shake, willing his gaze not to stray from Phil’s sorrowful, beautiful face.

Phil takes a shivering breath. “I want nothing more than to get to know you. But I can’t leave my children, and I can’t have you come here and let them get used to you. They’ve already lost their mother. If we find we’re not meant to be, when we break up – they’ll get hurt. I can’t do that to them. I won’t let my children go through the pain of separation again, Dan. That’s why I have to say, I’m sorry. I like you, Dan, but I’m sorry, I can’t do this. And I know it’s not fair, and I probably shouldn’t even have agreed to meeting you, but I just -”

“Okay, Phil, hang on - ” Dan interrupts him, and Phil stops mid-sentence, his lips still parted. “What if we don’t?” he asks.

Phil’s staring at him. It’s so quiet Dan can hear him breathe. The moment feels extremely intimate and Dan wants to kiss the fear and worry off Phil’s face, but he remains where he is.

“If we don’t?” Phil repeats blankly.

Dan leans forward. “What if we don’t break up? Who’s to say it wouldn’t work out? What if we do, we click and we stay together…”

Phil’s eyes shut slowly, drawing ragged breaths.

“I mean, I guess I’d understand if you didn’t want to take the risk…,” Dan continues, but Phil cuts him off.

“Say I was willing to do so,” he replies, “would you want to bear with us? I’m in no way eager to send you away, but you’d have to be absolutely sure, Dan.”

He wants to say yes, but the word gets stuck in his throat. It’s not easy. It’s not as easy as he wants it to be. So he sits staring at Phil, mouth opened but no sound coming out, and Phil gives a sad little smile, not reproachful, but understanding.

Dan lifts his hand to prevent him from jumping to a conclusion.

“I’m going to need… time… to think about this,” Dan says slowly, looking Phil in the eyes as he speaks. “Because – I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it – but I really like you, too.”

There it is again, that sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the one that makes Dan’s stomach churn and the back of his neck prickle.

This time, it’s Phil who reaches out to take Dan’s hand. “I can give you time,” he says, and then, after a moment of contemplation, he adds, “You know what? How about this. Olivia is currently obsessed with dressing up” - a small smile curls the corner of his mouth upwards - “so we’re having a little gathering on Halloween. PJ will be there, the kids’ godfather and incidentally also author of the book I’m currently editing, and Louise with her husband and daughter. If you want to come, you’d be welcome to do so. If you don’t…” The look he gives Dan is gentle, and so is his voice when he finishes the sentence. “… then we’ll know.”

It���s two weeks until Halloween. Dan’s fellow students have already begun talking about the parties they’re going to attend.

He presses Phil’s hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He manages a small smile.

Phil smiles back, carefully, his eyes still not entirely free of pain.

“I believe,” he says then, very quietly, “there was something you wanted to do before my phone so rudely interrupted us last night.”

Dan’s eyes widen as realization hits him.

Phil’s face is close due to the fact that they’ve both leaned forward during their conversation, and his eyes are half-shut. There’s a tender smile still playing on his lips, and Dan’s eyes flicker down to them as he takes a shuddering breath.

Then, carefully, he closes the distance.

Phil’s hands move up to his cheeks. His lips feel warm and chapped against Dan’s, and he’s shivering ever so slightly, Dan feels it when his hands come to rest on Phil’s shoulders. He tastes like apples and cinnamon, as if he’s made of autumn spices.

The butterflies in Dan’s stomach are back, swirling like leaves in a thunderstorm. He tips his head to the side, deepening the kiss, drinking up Phil’s fear and sorrow, his sadness and his fondness, all of him.

The kiss doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, but it lingers in the air, tickles in their lips and their hearts after they part.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, not saying anything because there’s nothing to say, yet there’s a sort of intuitive understanding between them that fills Dan with hope. Maybe they will be able to work this out. But he needs time to think. He’s only twenty-four, still a student – a family hasn’t really been on his agenda until now, much less one that’s already sort of complete in itself.

“I should probably go check on Micah and Liv, see if they’re hungry,” Phil says, still so close his breath brushes Dan’s face. Melancholy has already worked its way back into the creases of his forehead and Dan wants to wipe it away, but he knows that he can’t, not yet.

So he says, “And I should probably head back, look into some work for uni.”

“Well,” Phil pulls back and the moment is gone. “Thanks for bringing me my wallet -”

“Sure -”

“I’ll walk you out,” he stands, holding his hand out to Dan who grasps it.

“- and the kiss,” Dan adds, “I owed you that, too.”

His playful words manage to conjure up another one of Phil’s smiles, and he doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand until they’re at the front door. Outside, the wind has picked up, sending swirls of crimson leaves across the yard.

Dan and Phil stand facing each other, drawing out the moment of their parting. Finally, Phil averts his gaze and opens the door, and Dan zips up his leather jacket.

“I’m glad you came, Dan,” Phil says honestly.

“Yeah,” Dan replies, shivering slightly, though not from the rush of cold air.

“Me too.”

-

The last day of October is clear and bright, the sky a pearlescent grey. A strong breeze chases leaves across the country lane, making the trees sway and rustle. It’s cold, but this time Dan’s wearing a woolen jumper underneath his leather jacket, and anyway, he’s positively buzzing with a vibrant energy that warms him from the inside – and tickles him to push his foot down further on the accelerator, but he’s a responsible driver. He smiles to himself, feeling the wind and excitement drive him towards his destination.

When the cottage comes into sight behind the tree line, Dan’s smile grows wider. Two unfamiliar cars are parked outside the property on the side of the road, but he lets his motorcycle wheel past the post box and to a stop next to Phil’s car.

Taking off his helmet, Dan inhales the frigid, exhilarant autumn air. His pulse is throbbing both with adrenaline and anticipation. As he approaches the house, he picks up on snatches of cheerful conversation and hushed music that seep through cracked windows.

Two large pumpkins stand guard on the patio this time, their expressions hardly threatening. Dan feels like he must look somewhat like them – glowing with excitement, grin unalterably carved into his face.

Standing in front of the door, he takes a deep breath. He’s nervous, but not because he’s uncertain. He’s made up his mind, he’s decided to come here tonight for a reason. It’s just that it might be the biggest decision he’s ever made, and that does scare him quite a lot.

Okay, Dan. This is your last chance for turning back, he thinks, but instead he reaches out and rings the bell.

The sound seems to resonate in his chest.

A face appears briefly in the door window and with a squeal of excitement the door is wrenched open.

“Hi Dan!” says a cat the size of a young girl. She’s wearing an Alice band with cat ears on it and someone has painted crooked whiskers across her cheeks.

“Hi Olivia. Nice costume.”

Olivia grins. “Thanks! You too.”

He’s opted for a jumper with ghosts and pumpkins on it rather than a full-on disguise.

Stepping aside to let him pass, she adds, “Daddy’s in the kitchen.”

There’s a familiar twinkle in her eye that makes Dan wonder how much she knows, but he just smiles back and follows her inside.

As he closes the door behind himself, Olivia skips back down the hall to where the music is playing, but Dan remains where he is.

There’s a clanking of pots coming from his right. He swallows nervously, taking a final deep breath of courage before he steps into the kitchen.

Phil’s standing at the counter with his back turned to Dan, wearing a vampire’s cloak. His pale skin certainly fits the image, Dan thinks, feeling a grin tug on his lips.

For a moment he wonders how to announce his arrival, but then Phil turns around and flinches violently.

“Jesus, Dan!” he exclaims, blue eyes wide with shock, stumbling back against the counter. “You scared me!”

“Kind of the whole point of Halloween, isn’t it?” Dan asks, taking a few steps into the room. “Though I must say, your appearance is a lot scarier than mine.”

Phil’s face relaxes and he smiles, which entirely refutes Dan’s statement.

They stand facing each other for a moment, the realisation of what Dan’s presence means prickling like electricity in the air between them.

Then Dan clears his throat. “So, uh… Trick or treat?”

Phil laughs. “I’m afraid the treats are reserved for the children,” he says, biting his lower lip. His eyebrows are raised as if in a challenge.

“That’s too bad,” Dan’s about to say when Phil adds, “But I might have kept a special treat for you.”

They’ve gravitated towards each other almost subconsciously so that when Dan speaks again, he can see the sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the smudged red paint below his lip and even a few faded freckles that are dusted across his nose and cheeks.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Phil’s gaze drops and Dan feels his heartbeat speed up again. Instead of replying, he slowly leans in. Licking his lips, Dan lets his eyelids flutter shut in expectation.

They snap open again a mere second later, accompanied by a gasp when he feels Phil’s hot breath fan his neck.

“Ph-phil, what are you -”

“Never trust a vampire, Dan,” Phil mutters, lips ghosting over a patch of skin, not quite touching it.

Instinctively, Dan’s hands have shot up to hold onto Phil’s shoulders. He moves them now, his breath hitching, heart thudding, to Phil’s face and tilts it gently upwards.

“You sneaky little shit,” he murmurs affectionately.

Phil’s grinning widely, his eyes scrunched up and lucid like the pumpkins outside.

“Now I have no choice but to trick you,” Dan continues quietly, “seeing as you wouldn’t give me,” he leans in closer, “my…” his mouth brushes Phil’s cheek, making his breath stutter. “…treat,” Dan completes the sentence against Phil’s lips.

They kiss slowly, unrushed, lips parting and reconnecting again in sync with their breaths. As if to prove his previous statement, Phil eventually takes Dan’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles on it gently, causing Dan to let out a small moan. They’re stood pressed together from head to toe now. He can feel Phil’s heart beat against his own and the gentle touch of his hands on the back of his neck.

When Phil begins to pull away, Dan whimpers in protest, holding on to him tighter, and Phil smiles against his lips, his fluttering eyelashes tickling Dan’s cheek.

“Happy Halloween, Dan,” he mumbles, winding his fingers into Dan’s hair.

“I’m glad you came.”

*** this used to be on my ao3 page (softiejace). i’m taking down my phan content for personal reasons but reposting it here so people can still enjoy it :) ***

[monstersandmaw]

Male dom orc x female sub reader (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I thought this was already up here, but I can’t find it, so here it is again. I’ve got a ko-fi commission for a part two in the form of a chunky 10 sentence drabble, so I’ll be working on that, hence looking for it.

This features someone beginning to think about maybe entering into the very early stages of d/s lifestyle, and this story is just the two getting to know each other first. Trust is an absolute must in any relationship, and none more so than in one featuring consensual submission/domination. Rules and boundaries must be talked through, it must be healthy for both parties, and needs must be met in all areas. One person may like one thing and not another. This is what Orok feels very passionately about, and he reflects my values on that.

**********************

When you’d signed up for the website, you had been at a real low point in your life, and what made it worse was you felt like you had no right to feel that way.  

You had a brilliant job – a high up position in the company – and a great group of friends, and, at the time, a great boyfriend. Before him, you’d only ever been with humans, but there had been something about the tiefling that had just drawn you in. Too bad you’d driven him away too in the end.  

So, after indulging in watching a bit of your favourite porn, you had washed your hands, and, not being remotely tired, had settled down in front of your laptop, the harsh blue light making you squint. You’d found the website first by accident while browsing around one evening that had gone not dissimilarly to this one, and now you clicked back onto it and did some more serious investigating into what it had to offer. Namely, that was putting submissives in contact with a potentially suitable dominant.

A chat window popped up and you suspected it was a robot, but when they asked if they could help you with anything, you reluctantly typed in that you weren’t sure whether this was for you, but you were curious.  

- Don’t worry, came the reply. We get that a lot. Anything I can do to answer your questions?

Your heart was hammering, and you were the next thing to slamming the lid of your laptop shut and forgetting the whole thing, but something made you pause.  

- How does it work? you typed after a moment. 

- Simple – you sign up and take our questionnaire. It’ll ask you your preferences, things you’re definitely ok with, things you’d be willing to try, and things that are absolutely off the cards. Based on your answers, we’ll forward it (without your name attached) to a few of the doms we have on here that we think might be suitable for you, and then they’ll get in touch with you via messenger on the website or the app if you have it on mobile. We’ve got human and non-human doms registered.  

- Then what?

- You can get to know them a bit first before you meet, to see if you like them, and if they think it’d work out with you too. It’s important that both parties feel comfortable. What you choose to exchange is up to you. Anything you send to your prospective dom is kept confidential. It’s just company policy, and if they want to be a dom registered with us, then they have to agree to that.  

- I see, you said. It certainly seemed professionally organised. What does the company get out of this then? Do I have to pay you or something?

- No, no, came the response. We don’t take any payment from you. That’s not what we’re about. We get enough money from advertisements on our site to cover the admin costs. It’s all free for you and the dom.

- Ok, I’ll think about it. Thanks.

- Not a problem. Just hit ‘contact us’ if you have any more questions.  

You thought about it for a long time, and then signed up. The questionnaire was very thorough, covering things from activities and scenes you were willing to do or try, to words and names you were ok (or not) with. It took you nearly half an hour to finish it and you hit the button that, rather cheekily, said ‘submit ;P’ on it with a little snort.  

The next screen showed a polite little message thanking you for completing the questionnaire and reminding you to download the app if you hadn’t already.  

It wasn’t until the next day that you got a response.  

Your phone buzzed and you drew it out, standing on the crowded Underground at half five, packed in on all sides with similarly wan-looking commuters. At least some of the trains had wifi now. That was a bonus.  

When you saw the little notification beside the demure little app logo, your heart leapt and you glanced about you apprehensively, but everyone was too glassy eyed and ashen-faced to pay you the slightest attention.  

The message was from someone named Orok, and you could tell from the little photo beside his name that he was an orc. You clicked on it, enlarging it, and you saw that he had long, black hair, and surprisingly pale skin for an orc. It was the kind of colour that might have been called apple blossom or something on a pretentious colour chart. There was a patch of darker green skin just visible at the line of his collar though, and he had some beautiful freckles across his cheeks as he smiled. The gesture crinkled the corners of his eyes and his flattened, typically orcish nose. He had thick, blunt, gleaming twin tusks on each side, which was somewhat of a rarity, and his delicately-tapering ears sported a couple of piercings.  

His eyes, however, were perhaps the most arresting thing about him. One was a dark, rich brown, while the other, his right eye, was a light, forget-me-not blue.

You minimised his picture, noticing the way his big shoulders looked in the pale blue work shirt, and read his message. You had been worried it would be inappropriate or overly sexual, but it was nothing of the sort.  

Hi, he began. I got sent your questionnaire, and I’d really like to chat with you a bit more about a few things you said on it. I see you’ve never had a dom before, and that you’re not sure if this is even for you, so I’d like to see if you’ve got any questions I can answer to set your mind at ease about it all. I’m happy to do this on whatever level you feel comfortable – from very low key upwards, so don’t worry. Looking forward to hearing back from you, Orok.

You stared at it a long time, and then clicked on his picture again, trying to imagine him dominating you. It wasn’t hard. He must have had massive hands, and frankly you were certain he could be very forceful if he wanted to be. It seemed totally at odds with the sweet nature of his message.  

Confused, you shut the app and locked your phone, sliding it back into your bag without answering.  

You let it go another whole day before you plucked up the courage to message him.  

- Hi, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I’d like to give it a go. What did you want to know?

About ten minutes later, just as you were pouring yourself a big glass of wine, your phone buzzed.  

- Good to hear from you. I had begun to think you’d lost your nerve.  

- I suspect it happens…

-:) yeah. It’s ok though. People often don’t know what they want or what to expect, and get overwhelmed. I’m here to help, and make sure that doesn’t happen, whether you end up deciding to let me become your dom or not.  

- Thanks, that’s reassuring.  

- :). So, I suppose I’d better start. What is it you’re hoping to get out of this?

You sighed and reached for your wine. You had your legs curled up beneath you on the sofa, and a cushion at your back, but it didn’t make you any more relaxed.  

- honestly, I don’t really know. I need a release. I need someone else to do all the worrying and the caring for once, you know?

- I know, and I understand. Totally something we could work from and build on. I have a few ideas for us, but I’d like you to meet me first. And if you decide I’m not for you (or this isn’t for you) after all, that’s ok too.  

- thanks, you wrote, sighing and sipping your wine before sending it. This is all kind of… a lot easier/more relaxed than I thought it would be? You know?

- haha, yes, that’s a common reaction I think.  

After a few minutes you fired off another message. Do you have more than one sub at a time?

- personally, no. Some of the other doms who use the site do, but it’s not my style.  

You arranged to meet after work on Friday, with Orok letting you pick the place. You went for a quiet bar not far from the river, and you’d been sitting there for perhaps a quarter of an hour when he walked in, exactly on time.  

Your breath caught when you saw him. He was seven and a half feet tall, wearing a white shirt this time that stretched just perfectly over his huge chest and arms without looking obscene, and his hair was pulled back in a traditional orcish braid, plaited into small braids at the sides and drawn back into a larger, Dutch braid over the crown of his head. As he looked around, wondering who and where you were, you saw the beads woven into it at various stages as it hung in a rope as thick as an anchor chain, all the way to his waist. Your stomach twisted slightly at the sight of it. You’d never been with anyone who had hair that long.  

His heterochromic eyes were stunning, if a little eerie, and when they locked onto you, sitting at a table in the corner, they narrowed and you smiled. As you offered him the gesture, he returned it with genuine warmth, his tusks gleaming in the low ambient lighting of the bar.  

He came over, quietly spoke your name, and when you nodded, he grinned and stretched out an enormous hand. His skin was mottled between the pale of the skin of his face and the darker patch you could see on his neck, and you wondered if he was like that all over. God, it was attractive though.  

“Hi,” you croaked, standing up to shake his hand.  

“Hi,” he said back, his voice rich and warm and deep. His mismatching eyes flickered to your empty table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Choose something for me?” you said, not trying to be coy.  

He chuckled, a friendly, rolling laugh that reminded you of distant, summer thunderstorms. “I think we’re going to get along just fine,” he said as he turned away and you resumed your seat. 

___________________________

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |