#this is how i’m keeping my middle aged brain sharp lol

[chrispineofficial]

legos are a crazy expensive hobby. unfortunately! they did get me 😔

[freesia-writes]

Ok. I’m so sorry to those of you waiting ages for your requests but my inspiration has been at zero lately, except this lil spark of a Howzer idea thanks to @ilovestarwarsmen725 that I managed to churn out yesterday. However. It ends very abruptly because I’m leaving for like 4 days and I know I’m not gonna finish. So… enjoy my feeble attempt. 🤣🙈😘

Howzer x GN!Reader - Tea and Long Walks on the Beach

1.2k words and SFW (sorry, LOL)

Howzer was truly full of surprises.

You never would have guessed that his way of asking you on a date would involve a bouquet of wildflowers and a cryptic note inviting you to meet him at some coordinates on a certain day and time. You’d been friends for a while, although you couldn’t honestly say in good faith that you saw him as just a friend; you’d harbored a crush on him from the start but busy schedules and a sense of duty before pleasure had so far kept you apart. Until now.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to arrive looking impossibly suave yet casual at the same time, sporting an insanely flattering green sweater that fell loosely around him but hugged all the right places just enough to show off his physique. His hair was effortlessly tousled atop his head, and his dark jeans gave the whole ensemble a sense of class. Yet when he saw you as you opened the door to greet him, he only had words of praise and admiration for how lovely you looked. (I can see him in all of these outfits so take your pick from the selection below and keep it in mind as we continue, LOL).

For all his accomplishment and esteem, you hadn’t expected him to be so humble, so relatable, so focused on you. This was a refreshing date indeed. So when you found yourself sitting in the most charming tea shop you’d ever seen, you realized you needed a moment just to take it all in. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall sort of place, with a simple entrance through a wooden door that had clearly seen years of use. It swung open with a cheerful creak, revealing the inside of a quaint cottage that had been turned into a small tea room. The wall was covered with paintings, photos of patrons over the years, and so much memorabilia that it could have been kitschy if it weren’t so endearing, so representative of good memories and fun times that had occurred within the walls.

Howzer had taken your hand, weaving through the motley assortment of tables in every shape and size, and headed for a screen door, which apparently led to an intimate garden patio full of string lights and plants. The entire thing was covered by a lush trellis full of delicate flowers whose light fragrance wafted throughout, hydrated by the unassuming water feature that provided a soothing background sound. Every table was surrounded by a variety of foliage, from hanging pots with vines flowing down their sides to neatly-trimmed bushes that provided little walls of sorts, for beauty as well as privacy. It was the middle of the afternoon, the perfect lull between lunch and dinner, and you’d been thoroughly distracted from your perusal of the menu as you gazed at the clone before you, sharp and intelligent yet soft and kind.

“Where are you off to in that brain of yours?” he asked gently, startling you out of your reverie. You met his gaze, the spark in his eyes curving your cheeks into an immediate grin.

“I just can’t believe we’re here,” you admitted sheepishly, shrugging and continuing to look all around. “This is gorgeous!”

“Tell me about it,” he said cheesily, staring only at you and waggling his eyebrows enough to catch your attention as well as a delighted chuckle.

The server came, orders were placed, and immediately a large pot of tea was brought to the table, along with wildly mismatched cups and saucers that made your heart swell in your chest. Even the spoons were unique, each one having its own color, curves, and details that gave it character.

“I didn’t take you for a tea kind of guy,” you mused as he opened the top of the teapot to inspect the color of the liquid inside.

“Needs a few minutes,” he muttered before turning back to you. “I guess I’m just full of surprises then?” he offered, his smile holding a hint of a smirk now.

“I like surprises,” you crooned, thrilling at the genuine laugh your flirtation earned from him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he returned, as a three-tiered stand of plates arrived, covered in tea sandwiches, scones, fresh fruit, petit fours, and other delicately-arranged small bites.

It was still hard to believe that you weren’t dreaming as you compiled a little assortment of treats on your plate, thanking him as he poured tea for the both of you once he finally deemed it ready. The snacks were divine -- every texture and taste perfectly complimenting the entire spread, and the conversation flowed easily. You knew the basics about each other, but you were absolutely enthralled with his stories about his experiences, his philosophies on life, and his responses to your own thoughts and contributions.

Before you knew it, you were both comfortably stuffed with light, fresh food and equally soothed by hot tea that settled your stomach in a most satisfying way. You felt ready for a nap, and thought about inviting Howzer to join you for that very idea, but before you could suggest it, he was on his feet, hand outstretched to you, and out the garden gate with you in tow.

You lost track of time again, wandering the streets of the quaint village as you chatted about the things you saw and the random variety of thoughts they led you to. Jokes were shared, shoulders nudged, furtive glances cast back and forth that sent a thrill through you every time. And then he stopped suddenly, inviting you to look up at where he had led the two of you.

The entire bay stretched out before you, forming an uneven C shape with large rocky cliffs curving around either side. The water inside was quiet, with the large ocean waves buffeted by the protective peninsulas so that they reached the shore in a gentle, lapping rhythm. The sun was setting earlier this time of year, so it had already begun its descent through the haze on the horizon, bathing everything in a creamy golden light.

Your mouth fell open slightly, taking it all in, and you could feel Howzer watching you from your side. The feeling of his hand slipping around your waist, pulling him into a snuggly hug, was the cherry on top of a perfect setting, and you leaned into his shoulder with a contented sigh.

“You’re the best,” you murmured, utterly in awe at his planning.

The rest of the evening involved a long walk, hand in hand, chatting about everything and nothing. As the twilight colors faded into a velvet navy blue and the twinkling stars began to peek out, you stopped at the end of the peninsula, gazing out into the vast expanse of sea and sky.

Then you made out and had wild sex on the beach and somehow sand wasn’t an issue in the slightest cause this is fanfic and we’re all in dream land anyway.

The End. 🤣🙈💕

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona  – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation. 

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out. 

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy. 

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating. 

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked. 

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

-

Forward, huh?

An understatement. 

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions. 

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly. 

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject. 

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh. 

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead. 

"Calculus I question?" was your response. 

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop. 

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you. 

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up. 

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face. 

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath. 

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue. 

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips. 

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far. 

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes. 

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back. 

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek. 

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply. 

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position." 

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you. 

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it. 

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook. 

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed. 

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore. 

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[mrs-gucci]

A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before.  He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum. 

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in. 

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt. 

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure. 

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop. 

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made. 

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread. 

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away. 

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk. 

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance. 

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out. 

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement. 

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so. 

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale. 

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you. 

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum. 

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile. 

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens. 

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair. 

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk. 

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours. 

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

[aminiatureworld]

Musings of Thanatos

Characters: Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,640

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, in depth conversation surrounding death

Premise: In which the reader doesn’t want to grow old.

Author’s Note: I’m going to reiterate that this is a fic talking about death and a character that, regardless of capacity, actively wishes to die young. I hope that for some people this fic can bring catharsis but if you aren’t sure that you can handle this then please don’t read it. I know that it can be like “lol I can read it” when the back half of your brain is screaming at you not to. This time you should listen to that part of your brain. I am not going to pretend that this doesn’t have the potential to be incredibly triggering. Not only if you experience suicidal ideation but if you’re afraid of death. I think it might cause a very visceral reaction.

And if you feel similarly to the reader then let me tell you, I understand. I can understand the future being completely terrifying, I can understand not wanting to stick around. But though I understand I still urge you to give the future a chance. Happiness might only come in glimpses now, but I promise it will come again in the future. There are moments in life that are euphoric, and everything except death can be changed.

That being said, I hope whoever’s reading this can find something out of this fic. Please enjoy

Zhongli

“Zhongli, do you ever wish you were mortal?”

The day was a lazy one in Liyue, the calm after the storm. Glaze lilies waved gently in the breeze. Soon they would show their petals, gently gracing the evening with their presence before once again closing their buds to the sun. Then again, these were only the glaze lilies that had managed to survive. The others has disappeared slowly, becoming more and more rare. You had only seen one real glaze lily once. It was gone after a day.

“I suppose I’ve never thought of it my love. I cannot really imagine a mortal life. I suppose it would have some advantages. Yet I think everything has their place in the world. I would make a poor mortal as I am now.”

“If you say so.”

“Why do you ask?”

He was beautiful, your lover. Even now, having seen the rise and fall of kingdoms, not a strand of hair on his head was shot through with grey. Of course time had wrought change on him; even from standing far away there was an aura about him that was somewhat untouchable. If fate had deemed to keep him statuesque, then surely it had also put the distant darkness into his eyes, had molded his features into a mask through which one could see a deity tired of seeing so much life. Nevertheless you had to envy him. For surely he wielded a stronger hand than you had been dealt.

“I don’t know. I just, it’s been on my mind.”

“What has been on your mind?”

“What it means to grow up. I mean, you’ve never experienced it. Not really, not the way we do. Growing up, it’s terrifying. You look at all the people walking down the street, the old people I mean. They’re all… wrinkly!”

You had to laugh, a bitter, sharp sort of sound. Indeed how they did look strange. Bones and muscles twisted like branches of a tree, knobs visible in the guise of liver spots and still joints. Their faces, how terrifying their faces were. You always found it odd when someone called an old person beautiful. You weren’t sure you had ever seen one who fit the definition. Rather, it was like looking upon an utterly different sort of people, a transformation that you knew one day you would have to undergo. When you emerged, it would be like a butterfly shifting back into a caterpillar. There would be no going back.

“Perhaps they are, but it is a sign of old age. Of wisdom. Humans who grow old, they are survivors.”

There was a hint of displeasure in Zhongli’s voice. Not that you could blame him. It was quite heretical to insult the old, surely even more so to one who would never experience such a thing. Then again, perhaps that was why he could act that way. He would never know.

“Maybe; but all the wisdom in the world couldn’t prepare me for growing old. I mean, who wants to be around an old person? Who wants to be an old person? You can’t do anything for yourself anymore, you’re basically a baby again. Except this time there’s nothing to look forward to.”

“My love, surely there are many things to look forward to in old age. The knowledge that one has gained, the ability to look back on the past. Those who you have grown to love will gather around you. Above all, when one has grown old one finally has been granted the privilege to rest, to think, to do what one wishes.”

“Is that why you gave up your gnosis?”

The wind rustled your hair slightly as you gazed at your partner. There was no reply to your question, but then again you weren’t expecting one. There were just some things too painful to speak of, some things that you couldn’t understand. Just as there were things your partner couldn’t understand, the things you were trying to explain to him now.

“Anyways, I’m not sure if any of those things are worth growing old for. Worth becoming immobile and forgetful and ill for. Honestly, I’m not sure if I ever would like to grow old.”

“Well you will one day, my love. Such is the nature of time.”

“Well I wish time would stop, or better yet that something would come and put me out of commission before then.”

Silence again. You had made an error, or perhaps you were simply seeing the natural reaction to your declaration. You loved Zhongli’s eyes, the way they glowed and shifted and reflected the light. They were almost dragon-like, not that you had ever seen a dragon before. Now, however, they seemed muddied, bogged down. It was as if you’d thrown muddy water on them, and now you were seeing the natural consequence.

“Do not speak that way.”

“Why not? It’s what I think.”

“Then I hope that you soon change your mind. Even if you cannot see the merit in growing older now, to react so… violently. It is alarming.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ll ever experience this, this fear. You’ll never wake up in the middle of the night, heart racing. You’ll never have to hear your mind scream in fear of ageing. You’ll never have to think about the years stretching in front of you, each a painful sentence of pain. You’ll never have to think about losing your mind to age.”

A pause. There was a frown slashed across your lover’s face. It looked entirely out of place.

“What would you want then, my love, if you could have it?”

“I would like to be young forever, like you.”

“Would you really? Would you want to see person after person die, while you can only watch? Would you like to exist isolated from those you love? My darling, even love is dangerous when you are destined to eternity. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of, of when the inevitable will happen. When I will once more wait for the end of eternity.”

“If I were like you, then you wouldn’t have to think of that.”

“If you were like me then you simply wouldn’t be as you are. Why is it that mortals are so much more prone to action, so much more emotional and bright and determined? It is their very mortality. Death is what creates authors and artists and the great heroes upon which we rely. A life without them, it would be a very drab world indeed.”

“So you want others to suffer for your own good?”

“Do you think that the way out is to ask for death my love? Truly? The death of a human is the death of a universe. Would you throw that universe away to be remember as young, whatever that may mean? Would you give up the ability to see, to feel, to think, to exist? My darling, if you truly think it is worth it then let me convince you otherwise.”

It was warm, the world. The world was burning up and you were stuck, staring into the eyes of the person you most loved.

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t say these things, even in jest. I, I cannot understand it. It frightens me a great deal.”

“Why? I’m just, I don’t know. It shouldn’t bug you that much, I mean, I’m not about to go jumping into the sea or anything.”

“Today perhaps, and tomorrow too? If you truly were only saying these things in jest, would you be so firm in your questions and in your arguments?”

Too many questions, he was asking too many questions. They made your head swirl and throb as you tried to wrap your brain around them.

“I don’t know. I just, it, it scares me.”

“More than death? More than the annihilation of your senses and your thoughts? I realize that you are experiencing a fear that I myself will never carry. My burden and yours are opposites, they will never intersect, except perhaps to think about what the other will do when time eventually shows itself. Yet, my love, I cannot help but feel that, when that comes to pass, it will be better to have experienced age, to have experienced every phase of life, every moment that you possible can, than to be stuck in someone’s memory. We glorify the young dead, we do not remember them.”

It felt odd to crumple to his arguments, perhaps it was only momentary. He hadn’t explained anything particularly well, hadn’t been able to cross the divide between the two of you. Perhaps it was how awfully old he looked in that moment, how he seemed to age a thousand years, so much you could almost imagine him hunched over and grey and wrinkled. Maybe he did know more about age then you thought he did.

Besides, you couldn’t leave him, or Liyue. Not truly. And if that was only your survival instinct kicking in then it was doing a damn good job of it.

Slowly the roaring of the cicadas was replaced with a chorus of crickets. The glaze lilies turned their pale faces towards the light of the moon. Laying your head down in Zhongli’s lap you studied your lover’s face, trying to piece together the strange conversation that had soaked up all other conversation. As if reading your thoughts Zhongli’s eyes met you. Though a smile still refused to breach his expression, he leaned in to bring his hand to your cheek. You relished the warm of shared connection.

Maybe none of this would last the night, maybe tomorrow you would think the same thing you had before. But right now you very much wanted to stay. And right now was all that mattered.

[lisinfleur]

Insecure

The Request:

Author’s Notes | I’m sorry for taking so long, babe! But I hope you enjoy it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern Age AU, requested by @lol-haha-joke​ for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1173 ⁑ Warnings: Erotic content, some explicit scenes. Mentions to wounds and blood.

It was like being smitten by one of Thor's bolts right in the middle of his head. Although it was the sexiest scene Ivar had ever laid his eyes on, it froze his body entirely.

Instead of going into the obvious arousal seeing his wife touching herself and hearing her moans were supposed to throw him in, his thoughts started swirling into his mind like a furious storm, spreading stones of insecurity and fear everywhere inside his head.

For a long moment, Ivar stood still and silent at the door of his room, watching that scene simply because his brain couldn't process the electrical impulses and decide if he should enter and stop that or leave her alone.

And leave the hallway.

The house.

Maybe her life.

His body essayed the steps in and out of the room dozens of times, indecisive, scared. Until her body shuddered over the bed, and she threatened to open her eyes.

Worse than the idea of not being able to please his own wife was the thought of being caught discovering her personal games.

Her relief.

At first, Ivar's body swirled over his braced legs, and his back touched the wall beside the bedroom's door, listening when she moaned louder, faster...

She was coming! But it was so strong...

He couldn't remember any time in which she panted for him like that.

As she started moaning lower, his body was finally able to move away from the door. His steps taking his defeated self to his living room, straight to his bar.

Ivar's hands were trembling when he placed a cup, pouring himself some pure whiskey.

His mind was moving fast through the memories of their moments. The many times she said he was amazing or ended up laughing over his chest after a long night together. All the praises...

His feelings mixed insecurity, fear, anxiety... Anger.

As always, everything in Ivar's mind would slowly turn into boiling anger, and it wasn't different this time. His hand started trembling in anxiety, but now, it was fury.

The cup, emptied in a single sip, wasn't placed but slammed against the bar. Ivar slammed his fist against the bar one, two times, trying to put that anger out against the wood.

At the third slam, however, his hand missed the place and slammed the cup, turning it into sharp shards of glass that opened a large cut in his palm, causing Ivar's voice to echo in a growl between the wrath and the raw pain.

Of course, she heard his sounds from the room and came as fast as she could. Her eyes were large when she saw his blood flowing so freely like that.

"Oh, my gods! Ivar, what happened?" she said, fully concerned.

Picking up a towel from his bar to roll his hand and hold the bleeding.

But he didn't answer.

His eyes were destroyed on her figure.

How could she lie to him for so long and yet sound so truly worried about his well-being?

How could she hide that secret for so long from his sharp eyes and blessed mind?

"Ivar? Love... Answer me..." She insisted, touching his face.

How could she be lying and still sound so real? So full of love?

With his anger lowered by the pain, all that lasted was Ivar's blues, hurt and sad into her eyes.

"Why did you lie to me for so long?"

His words and the pools of sadness in his eyes confused her completely.

"What?" she asked, dizzy.

Her steps took him back to the couch where they could sit as her fingers were quickly calling the emergency service of his health insurance.

"I saw you," he affirmed, causing his wife to cringe for a moment. "I saw you touching yourself with that toy... Why didn't you ever tell me I wasn't enough? Why did you lie to me and said it was good to be with me, Y/N?" Ivar inquired.

His voice was as full of pain as his eyes were, teary.

But his wife looked at him completely shocked.

"Wait... You... Oh, mighty Odin, Ivar! You got everything wrong, for the gods' sake!" she burst, rolling her eyes.

Igniting the anger into his as Ivar tried to keep his wounded heart protected.

"What did I get wrong, Y/N? My wife moans louder for a damn plastic piece of shit than she does to me, and yet, she lies every time we fuck, so she doesn't have to tell me I'm not good enough for her! That's what I get!"

But once again, she just sighed, looking at him.

"And here is what you got wrong, my love," she said.

Her voice sounded strangely meek into Ivar's ears, crumbling his defenses once again.

"I never lied to you, and I do not need that toy. I like to play when you're not around to make me crazy, but I could throw it away at any time, and I wouldn't miss it. I moaned louder cause that shit was on high speed, and I didn't notice when I started. When I'm with you, there is no such thing. You build my pleasure, you make me feel warm, you love me, Ivar, you don't just make me cum with raw pleasure, and nothing more."

Her words were making sense, causing Ivar to slowly start feeling himself an idiot.

"It's my fertile day, Ivar. I was warm, and I didn't know how late would you come from the company. My intentions were to start warming myself to wait for you to come home. I never wanted to exchange you for a toy or needed a toy because you're not enough. I like to have toys to prepare myself for you. And even when I'm using them, my eyes are closed because I'm remembering your touch, your hands on me, your body into me, your sounds..." she explained.

Causing Ivar's anger to become nothing and give place to a huge shame of his own stupidity.

"Shit..." he growled. "I... I'm sorry."

"No, love. I am sorry," she answered. "I should've told you I liked these games. I should've explained everything, so you wouldn't feel like this. My poor Ivar... I love you, my dear, it would never be different. You're better than any shitty plastic toy I could ever buy, uh?"

Her warm fingers slid through his jawline, tracing it in a way he always loved to feel.

"Now we'll take you to the hospital, treat this thing in your hand, and come back home, so I can replace that toy with what I really wanted in me tonight... Does it sound good, my love?"

Ivar couldn't repress a smile on the corner of his mouth.

"I hope the hospital doesn't keep me for too long," he mumbled.

The smile became bigger on both of their faces.

He would have to wait to have his treat, but at least, his heart was relieved. His precious wife was his, and no toy was better than him.

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[angstyaches]

my fatal flaw is loving fluff more than whump, but i love whumpy nightmare scenarios…? so…what about charlie having a bad nightmare again, either due to being sick or resulting in getting sick, and being so distressed that he has to call shayne? the reverse scenario (shayne calling charlie) would also be so good but i feel like he’d be more hesitant to do that 🤧 i’m imagining lots of shaking and shaky breathing and self-loathing remedied just a little with some physical comfort? like being held idk. ANYWAY this is my request hehe

I spent ages trying to figure out a scenario where Charlie could call Shayne and Shayne could actually get to him, but when they’re apart, it’s hard for Shayne to spontaneously decide to go to Charlie’s. I could have swapped Shayne in for the sickie but I wanted to do Charlie. Sooo, the comfort is mostly verbal, although Charlie recalls physical comfort from the past. I'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind! Feel free to request more nightmare whump anytime, because I adore it.

The events of this fic are referenced (sorry for the first-person POV lol I was trying something out when I started this blog)

CW: nightmare, emeto, crying, anxiety, brief referenced past violence and blood.

___

It was the middle of the night, and the only thing Charlie could hear was the sound of the toilet tank refilling. That, and the tiny gasps that escaped him every now and then as he tried to catch his breath.

His stomach muscles were practically on fire from clenching, and he was still getting his breath back as he leaned against the side of the bath and held his phone to his ear.

The light bounced against the tiles and burned his eyes, but it was better than the dark. The dark had sprouted wings in his dream, along with a set of claws.

Charlie gasped and shook his head, burying it quickly between his knees and trying to get the image out of his head. His spine felt like his skin was crawling all over it.

“Charlie?”

His heart felt like it was going to slip up his throat at the sound of Shayne’s voice on the phone. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from whimpering with sheer relief. He hadn’t quite acknowledged it, but part of him had been terrified that Shayne wouldn’t answer the phone at all.

He’s okay…

“H-hey.” Charlie cringed at how badly his voice was shaking, and it echoed against the empty bathroom shelves just like his retching and coughing had done a few minutes ago. “I’m – I’m sorry.”

“Hmm? What’re you sorry for?” Shayne mumbled on the other end of the phone.

“You were probably sleeping, I – I just…” Charlie rubbed at his eyes, desperate to get them dry. Nausea was still trickling lightly through his stomach, and he wondered if he’d have to rush back to the toilet bowl sometime soon.

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

“I got sick…” Charlie pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead against his bare knees. His voice almost disappeared completely down his throat. “I… don’t feel well.”

“Shit. I thought you were finished with all that.”

It took Charlie a moment to realise that Shayne was referring to the food poisoning Charlie had accidentally given himself (and Rin) the day before yesterday.

He swallowed thickly, pulling a face at the memory. He’d felt so much better before going to bed; in fact, he’d been starving, his body feeling hollow and achy after purging itself for a day and a half. He’d cooked an entire bag of chicken nuggets from the freezer, made himself four slices of toast, finished off a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and had gone to bed feeling blissfully better.

He struggled to find a way to gently tell Shayne that the problem that had woken him at 4am had less to do with his stomach and more to do with his brain.

Although the amount of heavy food in his belly admittedly may have contributed somewhat.

“Charlie, you okay?”

He started a bit, realising he hadn’t replied in a while. “I’m – no. Not really,” he whispered, a sharp sob jerking his ribs and scraping at his throat.

“Put me on the, um, the video thing.”

The phone jingled beside Charlie’s ear, telling him that Shayne was requesting a video call. Charlie made an attempt to clean his face off with his pyjama top before accepting it, propping the bottom of his phone against his knee.

“You know, you sound sixty when you call it ‘the video thing’,” he said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Really?” Shayne narrowed his eyes into a glare as soon as he appeared on Charlie’s screen. “Would you say that to my face if it was actually this close to you?”

Charlie managed a weak smile. Some of the tension bled out of him just at the sight of his boyfriend and his sleepy brown eyes. His chin wobbled uncontrollably as emotions swelled in his belly and chest. “I wish it was this close to me.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Shayne folded one arm behind his head and leaned back against his pillow. His room was mostly dark, but he seemed to be lying on his back. “Wait, are you real-crying? Not just throwing-up-crying?”

Charlie sighed shakily, rushing to rub away the tears that had sneaked up on him. He felt his lips quiver as he tried to keep the smile from turning into a grimace.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Charlie gulped and nodded. “How could you tell?”

“Give me some credit. I feel like I know you pretty well by now.”

Charlie’s eyes were drawn towards the shrunken image of himself in the top-right corner of the screen, and tried to hold back even more tears. In his own – admittedly warped – opinion, he looked about as disgusting as he felt. He hated that he felt trapped in front of the camera, forcing Shayne to look at him in this state.

“Charlie,” Shayne murmured, his eyes softening in the light of his bedside lamp. “Talk to me, yeah?”

“They’re get – they’re getting worse,” Charlie breathed, burying his face in one hand. It felt a little silly to keep his phone held steady in the other, camera trained on himself even as he covered his eyes and wept, but he didn’t want to cast Shayne aside either. He peered out over the top of his hand, still covering his mouth to try to keep the volume under control.

“I know, but they’re just dreams, remember? They’re not real.”

A gag pulled at Charlie’s throat and he had to shut his eyes. But it was real…

“Deep breaths,” Shayne said, his tone in complete contrast to Charlie’s sobs. “You want to count back from ten with me? Sometimes I need some help. I can get to nine, and then I just get confused.”

Charlie almost laughed through the tears. He wondered if he should have been insulted by Shayne’s attempt to use Charlie’s own method on him. He decided to humour him though, rasping out numbers while thinking that it would never work because he was thinking too hard about it, but by the time they got to zero, he was able to take a breath without his chest hitching.

Shayne said nothing for a few seconds, watching to see what Charlie would do next. He frowned when Charlie shuddered harshly, making the picture wobble.

“You cold?”

Charlie nodded.

“Then go get into bed, idiot.”

He did his best to keep his phone elevated as he walked, but in his exhausted state, Charlie probably gave Shayne a prime view of the stubble under his chin as he made his way back to bed. He shakily propped his phone on the nightstand, next to Vincent the teddy bear, and went to grab a fresh t-shirt from the drawer. He’d sweat through the one he’d fallen asleep in, ruining it even before it had vomit and tears on it.

He finally crawled into bed, his stomach letting out a hollow, unhappy groan as it settled into the new position. Charlie groaned too, reaching out to take his phone in his hand again. He hated how the bedside light made his face look haggard and washed-out.

“All good?” Shayne asked.

“All good,” Charlie slurred, his eyes drooping already. “I miss you, though.”

“I miss you too, love.”

Charlie pulled his blanket tightly around himself, keeping one arm outstretched with his phone so that he and Shayne could still see one another. His sheets had cooled down a lot since he’d flung himself out from between them earlier, and after crouching on the tiles for so long, it was nice to be surrounded by something soft and pleasant.

Shayne tilted his head slightly as they both lay in silence for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes through their cameras. “How’s the nausea?”

“A little better,” Charlie sighed. “My tummy just kind of hurts.”

Shayne clicked his tongue. “Fuck. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“No.” Although his chest panged with longing for the same thing, Charlie shook his head. “You’re better – you’re safer there, and I don’t –”

The whoosh of dark, leathery wings in the night and the splatter across the hardwood flashed in Charlie’s memory. In the dream, the blood had been Shayne’s; Charlie had watched as Watson had torn his heart right out of his chest before dragging the rest of him away into the sky.

In reality, the blood had been mostly Charlie’s; he’d cut his hands on the broken glass left behind by Watson’s exit through the window.

“Lately, I just…” Charlie swallowed sickly. “I can’t stop thinking about that – that night, remember? When Watson came to my room to find you?”

Shayne fell silent for a moment, seemed to shift position slightly. “Mmhmm.”

“I was dreaming about – about that, but… worse.”

“He won’t come for you,” Shayne said. He seemed like he was gritting his teeth. “If he or Madelyn even try to get near that house, they’ll –”

“I know.” Charlie chewed the inside of his lip. He ducked his face below the blanket and quickly dabbed at fresh tears that were starting to form. “But I was so… I was so useless, Shayne, I knew I could have stopped him, but I didn’t, I was frozen solid, I –”

“Ssshhh…” Shayne whispered, the sound crackling gently through the phone’s speaker. “Charlie, love, come out.”

Teeth chattering in his head, Charlie sniffled from under the blanket.

“Please, I want to see you.”

When he crinkled the blanket into his fingers and revealed just the top half of his face to the camera again, Charlie wished he hadn’t gone into detail about the dream at all. Not only did he look like a mess, now he sounded like one, too. He felt himself blush when Shayne’s eyes lit up on the screen, realising Charlie had come out from behind the blanket.

“You know what I think of when I think of that night?”

Charlie swallowed thickly, shaking his head.

“I think about the way you let me fall asleep on your bed, even though I was being an asshole to you.”

He couldn’t help nuzzling his head against the pillow where Shayne’s head had been that night, while Charlie had sat lengthways with Shayne’s legs across his lap. He’d had crazy butterflies in his stomach, barely able to believe that his crush had shown up in the middle of the night, unconsciously looking for comfort from him.

“It was the first night we fell asleep together, too,” Shayne said.

Without realising it, Charlie had slid one hand around the side of his own neck, fingers running lightly through the hair at the back of his head. Shayne had never touched him before that night either, but he’d ran his fingers through his hair as though he’d been doing it for years. Light shivers of pleasure trickled over Charlie’s skin. The panicked pounding in his chest was starting to slow. “That’s true...”

“You’re anything but useless,” Shayne murmured, turning onto his side and adjusting the angle of his phone. His eyes were starting to close. “I think that’s what my point was. I forgot.”

Charlie gave a light, breathy laugh which was cut off by a deep yawn. He hid his face from the camera again, to avoid giving Shayne a view of his tonsils this time. By the time he looked at the screen again, Shayne was struggling to keep his eyes open, but neither of them said anything.

They never found out whose phone dropped out of whose hand first.

[ak47stylegirl]

Hmm... sicktember, huh? Let's go for #10 and I'm going to be boringly predictable with Scott :D Your choice of caretaker.

This was fun 😁 I know you love Scott and Gordon, so the choice of the caretaker was easy lol 😂 I hope you enjoy it! I went with a little bit of a different writing style with this fic, so hopes it's good 😅

I'm doing this challenge by asks, so send in a number and a bro, and I'll get to writing 😄 Overload my inbox!! 😁

----

Glass crunched under his feet.

“Wow…this place was asking to become a danger zone...” Gordon muttered, gingerly tipping over an empty beaker with a finger. “What even was this place?”

It was hard to tell what was dust and what was rubble from the earthquake; everything was in some form of ruin or decay.

“The building is listed as an office complex, owned by lee frank industries, but….” John frowned, sounding perplexed, “something doesn't add up….”

Frustration was evident in John’s voice, because there was nothing that John hated more than a puzzle piece to a mystery being just outside his grasp.

That or false information, especially incorrect space facts…oh boy, does John go feral if you joke that the sun is just a planet that‘s on fire.

So does Alan, though he's more the barking puppy variety, Gordon thought with a smirk, oh that was a great mental image…

“You’re right about that, John….” Scott reported, stormy blue eyes scanning the room, back rigid. “This looks more like a lab than an office, and not one that reaches any legal safety requirements either….”

Gordon straightens unconsciously, becoming more alert and focused. He understood what Scott was implying and what that could mean…

The building’s stability may not be the only danger…

There was a tense pause on the comms before “I’m contacting the GDF….” John's voice filtered over the comms, each word heavy with the severity of the possible growing situation.

“Good plan, John….” Scott nodded, looking left and right down the long complex “in the meantime, Gordon and I should look for survivors….”

“FAB….just..” John’s professional mask slipped for a second, his voice softening, “be careful down there, okay?”

“Will do…” Scott nodded, with a small, confident smile, catching his eye, “Gordon will search the left side of the building, while I take the right, all agreed?”

“FAB”, Gordon and John replied in unison.

“Good”, Scott’s eyes hardened, his commander persona coming to the forefront, “comms stay on at all times, is that understood?”

Acknowledgement was voiced, and in Gordon’s case, in the form of a mock salute, and an ‘Ay, Ay captain!’

Scott’s eye roll could be felt from space.

----

So far, the left side of the building was devoid of life, a ghost town of broken glass and rubble.

And bodies.

“I found another one, John..” Gordon grimaced, crouching down next to a middle-aged female, who was crushed by a shelf, chemical burns making her unrecognisable.

“Damn it, Scott was right, this place was a safety hazard waiting to happen…” Gordon looked around the small stuffy room, bottles of chemicals stacked haphazardly, sharp objects just discard all over the place.

Brains would have a fit if he saw this…

“Had any luck on your end, Scott?”

“Not so far, but keep-” the sounds of harsh coughing could be heard over the comms, “-keep l-looking….”

Gordon frowned, “Scott, are you alright?”

There was more coughing before Scott replied, “I’m f-fine…I just-” Scott groaned, his words starting to slur, “-I just cau-caught my..my b-breath, I-”

There was more coughing and a thud on the other end, followed by Scott’s comm going dead. “Scott?! Scott, are you alright?! Answer me!”

Gordon started to run full speed, all thoughts of lab safety abandoned in his panic. All of the alarm bells in his head were ringing; something’s wrong, something’s wrong.

Something’s wrong!

“Gordon, put your helmet on now!” John barked over the comm line, causing him to halt and follow without question. “There is an unknown gas radiating from Scott’s location! GDF and Virgil are on route now!”

Gordon took off in a sprint again, helmet now secured. “Good! We may need it! Do you have eyes on Scott?”

Gordon flew around a corner.

“He’s still not responding; vitals show he’s conscious, but none of them are in a healthy range.”

John sounded worried. Not a good sign. As was the yelling he could hear as he neared Scott’s location, but something was off about it.

The only one yelling was Scott.

He slowed down his pace, not wanting to run into an unknown, possibly dangerous situation unprepared.

“No! No! Gordon! Please, wake up!” Scott could be heard screaming; his voice filled with pure anguish. “Please!!”

A shiver ran down Gordon’s spine, “John, you don’t have any clue what that gas does, do you?” He whispered tensely; honestly a bit freaked out by Scott’s cries.

“I’m working on it….” John growled, sounding beyond frustrated that vital information was alluring him. “Don’t engage Scott until we know what we’re dealing with, okay?”

Gordon scowled, hearing Scott scream and cry his name again. “Sorry John, no can do….” He turned the corner, finally laying eyes on his brother.

Scott was hunched over a body, screaming his name and begging the dead body to wake up, sob rattling Scott’s shoulders.

Scott thought that body, a young adult male, was him, Gordon realised in horror, his face going ash white.

“Scotty?” Gordon spoke softly, taking a cautious step forward, his hands held up in front of him in a gesture of peace. “You’re okay there, bro?”

Scott’s head snapped up at his entrance, blue eyes locking onto him. Blue eyes which were cloudy and glazed over.

Gordon grimaced, taking another step forward.

Yeah, Scott wasn’t in his right mind; that was plainly obvious.

The situation changed so fast Gordon barely had time to react as Scott launched to his feet with a snarl, yelling, “You!”

Gordon barely dodged Scott’s punch, his eyes going wide. “Whoa! Scott, it’s me! Gordon!” He pleaded as he dodged Scott’s attacks.

That seemed to just make Scott angrier, “don’t you lie to me, you bastard! You killed my brother!!” Scott jumped at him, finally managing to knock him off his feet.

This was bad! This was very bad! Gordon thought as his big brother started to punch him, pinning him down with a crazed look in his eyes.

Virgil and John were yelling at him over comms. He had to do something! Gordon thought as he struggled against Scott, whose punches were becoming more painful.

Gordon’s elbow stuck Scott’s cheek, stunning Scott long enough for him to shove Scott off, and put distance between them.

“Scott! Stop this! I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not true!” Gordon yelled as he once again began to dodge Scott’s attacks, his ribs protesting immensely. “Please, Scotty!”

Scott’s attacks stopped, blue eyes clearing for a second, “Gordy?” Scott’s voice trembled, sounding so terrified.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, Scooter….” He took a hesitant step forward, a plan forming in his mind. “We were on a rescue, remember?”

He took another step forward, seeing that Scott was staying still, slowly reaching for the emergency sedative in his sash.

Scott’s eyes latched on his hand movement, eyes going wide, and the anger returned. “Ahhhrgh! Get out of my head!” Scott shook his head, gripping his hair in his fists. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Hood!”

Well, that explains a lot…

He took another step forward, “Scotty, I promise I’m not-“

“Enough lies!” Scott screamed, tackling him to the ground, his head hitting the ground hard, being momentarily stunned.

“No!” Gordon cried out as Scott knocked the syringe from his hand, it rolling just out of his reach.

“It’s over, Hood!” Scott sneered, blue eyes devoid of their normal kindness and love, “you’re never going to hurt my family ever again!”

Gordon looked into emotionless eyes, and felt proper fear of his brother for the first time in his life.

Scott wasn’t going to stop; he was going to...

Gordon growled, his eyes hardening in detention as his fist met Scott’s nose. Scott cried out in pain, distracted for a second, and in that second, he was able to wrestle Scott under him.

While Gordon was quick and agile, a good fighter in his own right, Scott was stronger than him. The fight quickly escalated into a wrestling match, neither letting the other get the upper hand.

Gordon spotted the syringe near them, just as Scott got the upper hand, slamming him into the ground.

No matter how much he struggled, Scott had him well and truly pinned this time, one arm pinned above his head.

One arm was free, but mobility was limited by Scott’s body weight on his upper shoulder and arm. But he had to try!

“Scott! I’m just tr-” Scott pressed his forearm against Gordon’s throat, beginning to cut off his air supply “,-t-trying to help you!”

His fingers brushed against the syringe, it slipping just out of his grasp. So close! So close!

“Like hell you are!” Scott cried, tears of anguish and fury pouring down his cheeks. “What have we ever done to you?! What have my little brothers done?!”

Tears pickled at the corners of Gordon’s eyes, his vision darkening just as his hand finally gripped the syringe.

He didn’t hesitate, slamming the syringe into Scott’s thigh with all of his remaining strength. Scott cried out, the pressure on his throat disappearing as Scott leapt away from him.

“What did you-” Scott stumbled, falling on his butt, eyes starting to blink rapidly. “What did you just...just inject into me?!”

Gordon slowly sat up, wrapping an arm around his ribs. “Scotty, it’s okay….” He moved towards Scott, who tried to flinch away, but only ended up collapsing onto his side.

“No, no, this, this can’t be h-happening..” Scott whimpered in despair, unable to lift his head or stop Gordon from moving towards him. “P-please, not G-Gordy….”

“I’m right here; I’m right here, Scotty..” Gordon pulled Scott onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “It’s alright, shh come on, go to sleep now….”

Scott’s eyes were becoming heavy, each blink becoming more prolonged than the last, “No, I can’t…I gotta…I gotta…“

Scott’s breathing evened out, eyes slipping close and not opening again. Gordon sighed in relief, slumping backwards, Scott’s head resting against his chest.

“You owe me big time, big brother…” Gordon whispered with a small pained smile, hearing Virgil’s voice in the distance. “So very, very much….”

[shibarirobot]

Aizawa fic - CH1 - Entrapment

+18 only

Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader (?)

I’m going to do my best to keep this fic as ambiguous as possible so anyone can enjoy it. The first few chapters will be tamer to build intruig, but make no mistake this is going to get SPICY. It’s not exactly a reader insert, but I’m going to stay away from describing my lead character, apart from quirk abilities, to make it easy for those that enjoy a reader insert to lose themselves in this fic. 

That being said, this fic is centered around a villain who can manipulate electro magnetic frequencies, that’s pretty broad and I’m no science kid, but I’m fairly certain everything I have them do is plausable with this type of quirk, if you have any suggestions for how it could be used or if I have written something infactual to the ability feel free to message me or leave an anon. However, in a made up world of quirks and hot men, I’m not sure it really matters lol. Suspend your disbelief as they say. 

Anyways, enjoy.

~

Four o’clock rolls by so slowly I can feel myself aging. I look down at my watch for the fifth time in the last three minutes and let out a huff. 3:57. No time to start getting anxious. I push even the word anxiety out of my brain and take another deep breath, closing my eyes. Distancing myself mentally from the hum of drunken bar thoughts. This time trying to calm my slightly lifted heart rate as it now feels like time has sped up exponentially, I realize I have no time to take a smoke or even go to the bathroom. It’s about to happen. I look at my watch again and feel the lump in my throat drop to my stomach as I swallow my insecurities and pull my hand up to my hip, skimming my thigh as I go. I can feel this too, the weapon at my waistband that has been pressing hard against my skin and keeping my back rigid as I try to level my breathing. I make eye contact with a tall man across the room from me, already nursing a beer before 4 pm and for a brief moment the air is still, latent energy pooling around me as I suck in another breath and force myself onto my feet. I magnetize my voice and push it into their brains as the stagnant energy from before comes crashing down in waves around me. 

“Everybody on the floor! NOW!” I say it, but they feel it, they feel their brains being ripped in half by my voice. The splitting headache that I come to find familiar, comforting even, forced upon these self serving bystanders. The pulse behind my eyes reminds me I’m alive, if nothing more than in a physical sense I am still living. Ringing fills the air as I roar into them again, enjoying watching them all grip their temples and wobble as they start to lose their equilibrium. I’m effectively scrambling their brains and replacing what is left with my own force of will. “I… SAID… NOW!!!!” They drop to their knees, some flopping to the side, giving up fighting, they're all sheep. Fucking sheep that just do what they’re told. Fucking sheep that believe in heroes and laws, it’s all bullshit. Even these citizens know it, but they all fall in line anyways. Because it’s power that they obey. And right now, I have it. 

I lock eyes with the man from before and he tries to move to the door, still wobbly on his feet. I smirk a little at his attempt. There’s always one. Always a fool that tries to play hero. He wants to... what? Call for help? Prove he’s not weak? Make up for his otherwise lackluster life? I don't even try to stop him. He barely makes it two feet before the rest of my crew shows up, a power type goon pushing the hero wannabe to the ground in a matter of seconds, the other, deadbolting the door. He never stood a chance and I chuckle to myself, grinning wildly now. I hear a groan from the ground next to my foot and look down, a woman is curled up on her side, one hand grasping desperately at the side of her head, the other gripping the material at her stomach with white knuckles. Her lips are pale and there is a cold sweat dripping down the side of her forehead, tears gathering at the corners of her big doe eyes. She’s honestly quite beautiful and it makes the terror in her eyes that much more satisfying when she looks up at me and whimpers a small, desperate, “Please.”

I stare down at her for a moment and absorb the painting before me. Such raw emotion. True pain. I laugh again, whole heartedly as a chorus of groans erupt from my captive audience, my screeches drilling a hole in their skulls. They don't even know what pain is and they fold at the waist and buckle at the knees, this is just a taste and they can hardly stomach it. While I'm laughing, I wrench my leg back and kick the woman in the stomach. Hard. My boots are steel plated and weighted, 15 pounds each, so I know it hurts. “Stupid bitch! Haha!” She screams, coughs, then hurls. Vomit mixing into her hair. I kick her again then lean down and grab her by the jaw, rubbing hard circles into her cheek as I yank her forward by the neck. Her eyes had been closed, but they snapped open when I did that, the vomit in her hair making it stick to her face. “You look so pretty when you beg, shame it will get you nothing here.” Dropping her head back to the hard, tile floor as I rise, looking down on her in disgust. I spit on her cheek from above and survey the room, all eyes are on me. She starts crying and I kick her one last time for good measure, for her distraction. “Whore.” It falls from my lips and I almost feel bad, but then I don't. I don't feel bad for these people, she would have thought the same thing about me and smiled to my face, not knowing who I am, what I’m capable of. She would have been comfortable in doing so to know her thoughts were private. They wouldn’t have been. I would have heard her, as I’ve heard countless others. I shake my anger away in the moment, getting  back to business, now is not the time to let my emotions get the better of me. 

Everyone was hearing me before, but now that I’m focused my voice is poignant, rumbling in the back of everyone’s minds like distant thunder. Like the booming voice of god. In this moment, I might as well be god. “Enough theatrics. If anyone moves I will LIQUIFY your brains, got it?!” There’s a prickle of anxious realization in the room as they all come to terms with the fact that I can do it and have a clear disregard for any of their well being. “Good. Now be darling little hostages and lay there in agony while the big mean bad guys rob the place, ‘kay?” My voice had lost the murderous quality it once had as I start to talk to them how an owner would to a new puppy. Lovingly, but condescending. 

I now look back to my crew, all people I barely knew, hired hands to make my plan run smoothly, expendable, but crucial. I see they have sealed all exits and my muscle men are manning the door. Well, muscle people I should say. One is a hefty looking mutherfucker with steel brackets around his wrists and ankles. His muscles swell and retract like they're breathing, as if his muscle was an entirely different entity from his body. It’s mesmerizing and somewhat disturbing to watch. The other is a short, toned woman with a spiked, pink mohawk and a killer smile. Her teeth are sharp and platinum and she grins, chomping her jaw to herself. It makes a distinguishable ‘Clang Clang’ when her teeth lock into place with each other. 

Knowing they have the hostage situation handled, I make my way to the back of the bar. There is a door in the corner and I reach for the handle as I approach, but a wave of hesitation hits me as I do, something tells me to move away from the door. With a quick dodge, I leap backwards as the door explodes, a fist appearing at the center of the explosion. A hero. Dammit. I was hoping to get this over with before we had a chance for interference. I ‘tsk’ my tongue and toss a scowl over my shoulder. What’s the point of a hired lookout if they don’t even tell you when the ops are coming? When I look behind me I see my lookout, the only person I hired on a quirk specific level, toppled over with a dart in their neck. Fuck. They were supposed to see around corners in the getaway. My eyes scramble around the room to see where it came from but there’s no one, just a small crack in the window where I assume the dart broke through. Someone on the roof.

Frustration overtakes me and I scream up at the ceiling. What’s the point of planning if I have to do everything myself anyways? The scream ruptures into everyone’s thoughts. The civilians. The heroes. The other villains. They all feel my wrath. I stand and kick the hero that had just blasted through the door and my plans in one fell swoop. I've seen him on tv, he’s getting pretty famous, some new chump that can balloon his fists. He really thought a physical quirk could beat me? He grunts then goes slack, some hero. The ones that never get hit can never handle it when they eventually do. I step past his body and again past the debris of the door. There’s a small room back here with metal shelves on each wall and one in the middle forming three neat rows, pilled with bricks of gold, artifacts and a computer on a table in the back. There’s another hole in the wall across from the door, seems as if this loser busted through both walls just for a shitty sneak attack. Easy escape though. Rolling my eyes, I march past the gold and the shinies and dig a flash drive out of my pocket, shoving it into the USB port, it immediately starts glowing red. I kick the chair to the side and lean down, tapping the keys furiously as I transfer file after file to my drive and delete them from the computer's hard drive. When I’m done, I pull the drive from the port, not worrying about ejecting the drive. It will just have to deal. I straighten my jacket and brush the hair out of my face, leisurely strolling back to the hole in the wall. 

Something glints in the corner of my eye and my focus is shifted to a beautiful diamond necklace that has to be worth more money than I have ever seen in my entire life. I’m about to take another step when the urge to possess this object takes me over so abrasively I can't even think about ignoring it. My hand darts out to the necklace, making quick work of securing it around my neck. I slip a gold brick into my pocket as well, reveling in the thrill of theft. Unplanned theft that is. 

Now that I’m satisfied with myself, I continue my trek to the hole across where the door used to be, leading to the alley, ready to make my one person escape only to be confronted face to face with glowing red eyes, barred behind shuttered goggles. 

Thank you for reading my first chapter! I hope you have enjoyed it!

Maybe leave a like...? Just a thought XD

I will be updating this and adding it to AO3 as soon as I get an account (I’m on the waiting list). There will be a link availiable to my new AO3 and other content as soon as I have that ready. Thanks again! 

CH2

[silverlightqueen]

Cursed

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

wizard!Seungmin x human!reader - crack comedy, y/n’s a bit of a spoilt brat and Seungmin is not down for it lol

Word Count: 3k+

Summary - Seungmin is the best wizard in town. Poisoned by a pixie? Battered by a troll? Bitten by a were? Whatever the magical injury, Seungmin can fix it in the bat of an eyelid. So when y/n is cursed by a witch and needs his help, she expects to leave his lair curseless only a few minutes later. But her plan… doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings: y/n is a total judgemental bitch lmao and Seungmin wants to teach her a lesson, brief mention of blood and vomit, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed else!

a/n: and here is the seventh instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you @silverlightprincess​ for being the best (she didn’t proofread this either but she’s about to read it after I post it and check for mistakes which I will go back and edit lmao). please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken​ @cloudsgathering​ @silverlightprincess

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‘Hi, how can I help?’ the receptionist says, looking up from her computer to give me a friendly smile. ‘Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Kim at 1.30,’ I say, and she blinks at me in surprise before looking at her computer, clicking away. ‘Ah, y/n y/l/n, is it? You booked yesterday?’ ‘Yes, that’s me.’ ‘You’re lucky to get an appointment with Dr Kim so late. And during his lunch break, too! Do you know him?’ she asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘I used to. We… went to school together.’ ‘Oh, that’s nice! Well, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here,’ she says cheerily, and I give her a weak smile before turning to take a seat.

The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery is unlike any Doctors’ Surgery I’ve ever seen before; the reception is relatively normal, with its cold lighting, linoleum flooring and hard backed chairs, but the patients are quite… abnormal. A man is sat two seats away from me, his body covered in hair and long sharp claws protruding from his fingers – I hear him telling the fairy beside him, whose wings are wilted and colourless, that he hasn’t been able to fully turn into his wolf form or his human form for weeks. Opposite them, a vampire sits with a bucket in his lap, vomiting blood into it every few moments, and the centaur stood beside his seat with his tail wrapped in a bloody bandage rubs his back soothingly. I think I’m the only human in here.

Normally, I’d have driven out to the Doctors’ Surgery in the next district – everyone knows that The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery caters specifically to magical injuries – but I somehow don’t think my problem can be solved by a human doctor. When I phoned the surgery yesterday, I asked for the next possible appointment. I was told by the receptionist that that wouldn’t be until mid-November, which never would’ve worked. So I did what I swore I wouldn’t do, and asked the receptionist to ask Dr Kim if he had any availability for y/n y/l/n. The receptionist sounded sceptical, but he put me on hold anyway, and came back to tell me that Dr Kim said he could just about fit me in.

‘Miss y/l/n? Dr Kim is ready to see you in Room 13,’ the receptionist calls out, and I rise from my chair, passing the vomiting vampire with a wince. I head down the clinical corridor, white bar lights flickering overhead, and when I reach Room 13, I take a deep breath and raise my hand to the door. I knock once, twice, and then wait to be told to come in. I hear nothing. I roll my eyes, knocking again a few moments later, and then I hear him call out, ‘Come in!’

I turn the handle, tentatively opening the door and slipping into the room. Whilst the reception may have looked like any old Doctors’ Surgery, Room 13 certainly does not. The walls are black and purple, flickering yellow lamps casting an eerie glow and providing the brightness that the room needs due to having no windows. The floor is an ugly brown and red patterned carpet, the kind you find in a decades old manor house, and wooden shelves and chests of drawers are dotted around the room, covered with various suspicious looking bottles and jars. Old tapestries hang on the walls, and mismatched armchairs and beanbags sit around the rickety table in the middle of the room – I suppose it’s more of a kitchen island type thing than a table – which has a crystal ball, magic wands and various mystical objects sitting atop it. The only things in the room that don’t look otherworldly or ancient are the laptop on the table, and the man stood in front of it, typing away.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I just shut the door behind me, throwing myself down onto the comfiest looking armchair, practically sinking into it. I busy myself with filing my freshly done nails – I love my nail lady, but she can somehow never get them all even – whilst I wait for him to be done. ‘I just cleaned the room and you’re getting nail filings everywhere,’ he says after a few minutes, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you cleaned it? It looks a state,’ I say dryly, and he lets out a little laugh as I pull a flask out of my bag. I get up from my seat and hand him the flask, ignoring his raised eyebrow. ‘Wait, is this-’ ‘Iced americano. The way you like it,’ I say, and he grins, taking it from me with badly hidden excitement. ‘Look at you. Sweetening me up,’ he observes amusedly, and I roll my eyes again. ‘I was making it for myself but now I feel a little sick, so you can have it,’ I lie, and he just gives me a suspicious side-eye before sipping from the flask and letting out a blissful sigh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks after a few seconds, and I sigh, dragging one of the higher chairs over to the table and sitting on it, not wanting to be a few feet shorter than him in the armchair. ‘I need your help with something,’ I say, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you’re actually here to be treated?’ ‘Um… yes. Why else would I be here?’ I ask confusedly, and he hesitates. ‘Thought you might be here to… see me,’ he says quietly, and I feel a little awkward. ‘I… Seungmin, you have to understand w-’ ‘I understand, y/n, I completely understand, and I don’t blame you. It’s just that I’ve… missed you. And I don’t mean I’ve missed our relationship. I’ve missed you in my life. You don’t even show up to family events anymore, and my mum keeps asking why she hasn’t seen you. I don’t have the heart to tell her what happened,’ he murmurs, my heart twisting with guilt. I’m not quite sure what to say, desperately wracking my brains, but there isn’t anything to say, so we’re both silent.

Seungmin and I grew up living in houses opposite each other. Our parents were best friends, so we were best friends. We remained that way through nursery, all of school, and into our adult lives too. I was quite proud of having a wizard best friend who could solve nearly any problem I ever had. He made sure I never failed any tests, hurt myself, got into trouble, and he fixed anything I ever broke, found everything I ever lost, made sure nothing bad ever happened to me. And then we did the worst thing we could’ve done, and we fell in love with each other. Two years later, I had aged two years, and Seungmin had not – wizards are immortal, and so he stopped aging from the age of 18. 22-year-old me was dating 18-year-old Seungmin. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue, but I started thinking about the future. What about when I turned 30, and Seungmin still hadn’t aged a day into adulthood? When we’d had a child together, and he looked more like the kid’s sibling than the father?

‘Anyway… what’s wrong? Why’d you need my help?’ he asks, and I sigh deeply. ‘Basically… I was at the club with Chaeryeong the other night, and we were in the toilets, and I was putting on lipgloss. This girl next to me asked if she could use it, and I was like, ‘um, no’, because who shares lipgloss with a stranger in a club, and she got angry and started saying, ‘you think you’re so gorgeous, and you think you’re better than me,’ and basically went off on one, so I may have retaliated slightly, and turns out she was a witch, so she put a curse on me,’ I explain all in one breath, and Seungmin raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You wanna tell me what really happened?’ he asks, and I blink once, twice, before sighing.

‘She asked to borrow my lipgloss and I was kinda drunk and I may have been a bit of a bitch and told her she needed more than just lipgloss to fix her face,’ I admit ashamedly, and Seungmin’s mouth falls open. ‘y/n!’ ‘What? It’s not like I lied! Her makeup was terrible! It was the completely wrong colour for her skin, she hadn’t blended it, her eyelashes weren’t the right shape for her eyes and she hadn’t glued them on properly so they were hanging off, her eyeshadow clashed with her lipstick, it was all terrible! I wasn’t about to let her put my expensive ass lipgloss on top of that god-awful lipstick. So I tried to give her some girl-to-girl advice, but I was drunk so it came out the wrong way!’ I say defensively, Seungmin shaking his head at me in disbelief.

‘Did you tell her all those things? ‘…I may have, yes.’ ‘You’re such a bitch, y/n. Maybe she did her makeup like that on purpose. Maybe no one’s ever taught her how to do makeup. You didn’t need to come for her like that. God,’ he says, voice laced with shock and disappointment, and I feel like a little kid being told off by their teacher. ‘I apologised when she started crying b-’ ‘You made her cry?’ he demands, voice going up a few octaves, and I pout. ‘I didn’t mean to! I apologised, but she was already angry, so she cursed me,’ I say in a small voice, Seungmin’s unimpressed gaze making me feel quite ashamed. Not that I didn’t already! He’s just making me feel worse.

‘What was the curse she put on you?’ he asks, and I let out an angry noise just at the thought of it. ‘That I’ll age to look quadruple how old I actually am,’ I spit, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘I’ve never heard that before. She probably just said it to scare you.’ ‘That’s what I thought. Until this happened,’ I say, turning my head away and lifting up my hair to reveal the base of my neck. I hear him suck in a breath, knowing he’s seeing the lock of hair at the back of my head, the one that’s now a powdery grey colour, wiry and ratty amongst the perfectly healthy hair that I put so much effort into looking after.

‘My body’s getting achy and I’ve got all these pains everywhere that I didn’t have a couple days ago. So I think the curse is real, Seungmin,’ I say seriously, and he nods, looking thoughtful. ‘So you want me to lift the curse off you?’ he asks, and I nod, giving him my best wide innocent eyes. ‘Can you do it?’ I ask, and he’s silent for a moment before replying, ‘I can. But I won’t.’ My heart drops, my mouth falling open slightly, and I blink at him a few times before I say, ‘what do you mean, you won’t?’ ‘I won’t lift the curse off you. You were rude and bitchy to that girl and not once have you shown me that you feel guilty about it. Instead, you’re sat here defending yourself and complaining about her like a little brat, so I think this should teach you a lesson,’ he says simply, and I stare at him in shock.

‘You’re joking, right? I demand, anger flaring through me at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. ‘No, I’m being serious, actually. You judged that girl based on how she looked – I’m sure if she was conventionally pretty, with flawless makeup, you’d have lent her your lipgloss without a second thought, and probably becomes best friends with her too. That girl might have been the nicest person you’d ever come across. But you wouldn’t know, because you were mean to her. Now, the shoe will be on the other foot. You’ve coasted through life getting what you want because you’re pretty, and now that you’ll look all wrinkly and saggy, we’ll see how you like being on the receiving end of people’s judgement,’ he says cheerfully, my mouth falling open more and more as he speaks.

‘Seungmin, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really am, and I do regret it. But surely that slightly bitchy behaviour doesn’t warrant this. Me looking like an ancient pensioner! I’ve learnt my lesson. Please don’t do this,’ I say desperately, starting to actually worry that he might not lift the curse. ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you have learnt your lesson, y/n. It’s not like I can take your word for it, because if I didn’t know you any better, you’d have gotten away with telling me a twisted version of what really happened. You’re a compulsive liar. So, I apologise, but I won’t be lifting the curse,’ he says seriously, but his lips are quirked up at the corners, making me realise he’s actually amused by this situation.

‘Seungmin, this isn’t a joke! You cannot let this happen to me!’ I shriek, panic making my hands shake, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Shouting won’t make me change my mind,’ he says dryly, the two of us staring at each other, very different emotions in our gazes, and he sighs a few moments later. ‘How about this? When you show a true act of selflessness and generosity without any kind of judgement, the curse will break,’ he says, taking my hands into his as he speaks, and when I register his words, I snatch them away angrily. ‘No! I don’t want any stupid conditions or things I have to do! Just take the fucking curse off me, Min!’ I scream, fury making my voice waver, and he just laughs.

‘You took your hands away too late – it’s done now. This will teach you your lesson,’ he grins, and I want to literally throw myself across the table and teach him a lesson instead. ‘Seungie, please,’ I pout, stooping lower than I ever thought I would, and he hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No, y/n. It’s done. Try not to judge someone based on their appearance for once, and you’ll be rewarded for it,’ he says mildly, and I just stare at him in disbelief for a few moments. ‘Are you doing this because I dumped you?’ I ask, unable to believe he simply wants to teach me a lesson, and he bursts out into laughter. ‘Flattering yourself a little there, aren’t you? No, y/n, that’s not why. Stop trying to find reasons to play this down. There are no other factors for this punishment other than your nasty behaviour.’ ‘Punishment? What are you, my dad? You don’t get to punish me!’ ‘I know you better than your dad does, better than anyone else does, and I know you’re better than this. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ I exclaim, silence falling between us.

‘If that’s all, y/n-’ ‘If that’s all? If that’s all?’ ‘Yes. If that’s all, you can leave. I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break, and then I’ve got another appointment. So you can go,’ he says with a small grin, effectively dismissing me like a parent sends a child to their room, and I let out an angry huff. ‘I can’t believe this. Some shitty doctor you are,’ I say childishly, bitter about this lesson he’s trying to teach me, and he just rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘My thousands of satisfied patients say otherwise. But that’s okay – you can’t please everyone. Especially not judgemental little brats,’ he grins, and I let out a shrill noise of rage, pushing myself up off the seat and grabbing my bag from the armchair.

‘And I’ll take this!’ I exclaim pettily, snatching the half-empty flask from the table, and he just laughs at me, making me feel even more murderous than I already do. ‘You’ll thank me eventually, y/n,’ he says gently, and I let out another angry huff. ‘I doubt it,’ I hiss, stomping towards the door and, just as I think I can’t be any more immature, I kick the shelves nearest me, watching as it wobbles and falls over to the side before stopping mid-air. ‘Really? How childish of you,’ Seungmin says amusedly, one hand outstretched in the direction of the shelves, his magic holding them up, and I let out an angry scream, sounding a lot like Regina George when she was putting herself in the Burn Book to get back at Cady. Is this really what I’ve become? How embarrassing,

‘I’ll see you at Jackson’s for Halloween,’ he calls out behind me as I reach the door. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ I hiss venomously, ‘my brittle bones may have already given way by then. God knows if I’ll even be able to walk, thanks to you!’ ‘No, y/n, you only have yourself to blame for this,’ he says, as he shakes his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh, cut out all the philosophical teaching-moment shit,’ I spit, wrenching open the door. As I do so, one of my nails flies off my finger. Not just the fake nail my technician put on this morning. The entire nail.

I hold back a gag, hearing Seungmin stifling laughter behind me, and I look away from it, feeling quite sick. My eyes meet Seungmin’s, and he must take pity on me when he sees how they’re full of angry and helpless tears, and he waves a hand in my direction. When I look down at my hand again, the nail is back in place, good as new. I look back at him in surprise, and he looks a little embarrassed. ‘No more of your nails will fall out. But I’m not fixing anything else for you. Now go, before your stupid pretty face convinces me to lift the curse,’ he says, and I feel a little hope spark in my chest. ‘Seungie, p-’ ‘Nuh-uh. Get outta here. Now.’ ‘But S-‘ ‘y/n, I will call security!’

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse and welcome to Behind the Quill, it’s wonderful to finally have the chance to chat with you.

Many readers will know you from your extensive catalogue of works like Convergence, A Soul-Mate’s Kiss, Entangled and of course, The Ribboned-Witch

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name?  It’s a simple one. I should be writing anything but fanfiction, ie o-fic. I need the pennies! Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? Probably a mix of Snape and Granger. Snape’s general curmudgeonliness (is that even a word?!) and Granger’s swottiness, (also perhaps not a word…) Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) Romance. Always romance. I am addicted to my Happily Ever Afters. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? Persuasion by Jane Austen. Reunited lovers, a fave trope. At what age did you start writing? 14. How did you get into writing fanfiction? I blame Wolverine. I fell into Rogan (Wolverine and Rogue) in 2011, then starting writing it, when I *should* have been writing my o-fic…. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? The Marriage Law Challenge. Can that be called a theme? I love that, and have written a few. It’s probably an equal love with soul-mates/fated mates. I’ve written a few of those, too. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I’m a fairly linear shipper. So it was Rogan, then Sherlolly…then SSHG and it’s been only that for *gulp* almost seven years. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Naturally, Severus Snape lives (not that he died in the first place!). Fanon? At the minute, I’ve read so much fanfiction, I’m not sure what’s solely in the books anymore! Dark Revels, maybe? Or could Jason Issac’s idea for long hair for Lucius Malfoy be considered fanon? lol Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? It varies. Sometimes it’s whatever I have listed on Amazon Prime, or various rainy ASMRs. I so have a creativity sound thing that’s supposed to tap into your writing brain. It runs for 3 hours and does *seem* to work…when I remember to turn it on! What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Hope Reawakened - Georgesgurl117 A Place in the World - Noodle In the Darkness in Which We Are Made - Corvusdraconis A Number of Ways to Kill Ron Weasley - Ms-Figg From the Corner - Coffeeonthepatio Chocolate Enchantment - Vivian B Forged in Flames - MsWhich Owned - TwilightDarkness82 Three Pregnancies and an Adoption - rhapsodybree A Witchhiker’s Guide to Beltane - TeddyRadiator Romancing the War - Pubella The Marriage Benefit - Miamadwyn The Nature of the Phoenix - scatteredlogic Vomica Domintor - Always_ss There are probably fistfuls more… lol Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? A panster. Which is why I often get to the middle of the middle of a story (*the* hardest place!) and it stalls! What is your writing genre of choice? Romance. Always. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Ignis Tactus, mainly for the feel of it. And chapter 5, because of quality of the writing. It’s intimacy. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? I had a vague idea of where it was going and wrote the first chapters in a few days. Chapter 5 took longer - as the smexiness always does. It was a reminder to pick out the right detail, which is a simple idea and the hardest to achieve. How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? It wasn’t personal, I don’t think. A story is always a tapestry to me, weaving threads together to make sense.  What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Probably from years back, Orwell and Hemingway. And a shedload of poetry. It’s made me aware of language and to aim to use the least words I can to sharpen the imagery, dialogue and setting. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My other half does and that’s about it. I keep my fanfiction separate from my o-fic world. How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? I like to write what I want to read, so very true? lol How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? I’m a social media hermit, tbh. I’m on the usual sites, because I have to be for work…and even then, I can happily wander away for weeks! I envy people who do social stuff naturally. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Look at your verbs and make them strong. What do you do when you hit writer's block? I’m been blocked for about 2/3 years, which is why I’ve slacked on writing, both fanfic and o-fic. I’m still trying to find a way around it. At the minute, I mostly play with digital art/Daz3d. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Very probably. I do sit and ‘feel’ the emotion in a scene as I write it. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? I’m plugging away on bits and pieces, the odd few hundred words here and there. So this is a bit of a bare snippet from The Offer of Just One More (yes, I also peck at that!) “Victoire said you’re mean, Daddy.” Alexandra’s little Severus scowl was quite plain. “I said you weren’t, so she tried to pull my hair. So we sat on her,” she pointed to herself, Oona and a beaming Olivia, “until she said you wasn’t…weren’t.” Hermione sighed. The Burrow was a bloody minefield. And she was certain there was more than Ron stirring trouble, through their children, to get in a dig at Severus. “You shouldn’t sit on people who disagree with you,” Severus murmured. There was a light in his eyes. Hermione was sure she’d get the blame for their three daughters being little hellions. A lifted eyebrow and the murmured, “Draco? An attack of birds? Setting me on fire?” “She sat under the tree with us last week when you were at the Burrow,” Emily said. Obviously their eldest had known about the altercation. And supported it. The Snape girls were just as protective of their father as he was as them. It was sweet. In a Mafioso sort of way… “It was the troll then, too. And she thinks you’re the best storyteller, now.” “Troll!” Meredith cried, waving her juice cup, obviously at the end of her patience in waiting for her story. “The troll, indeed, Meredith.” The toddler beamed up at her father and clapped her hands. Severus glanced down at a still-sleeping Hannah. His voice was soft as he asked. “So…who is the hero of this story?” Five little girls grinned and looked towards Hermione. She blushed. “Mummy!”

“And who is the villain?”

“The Troll!” Oona and Olivia declared. “Because he attacked her.”

“Quirrell. He released the troll.” Alexandra said. Emily shook her head. 

“She wouldn’t be in the toilet at all without Ronald Weasley.”

“Weedy!” Meredith laughed and the semi-circle of girls fell into giggles. Her eldest had recently taken a sharp dislike to her old friend. Hermione’s eyes met her husband’s. They would have to keep an eye on what the ginger menace was saying around their children. Or wait four years, and let Emily hex him. Any words of encouragement to other writers? Write what calls to you…and find your fun in playing with language. Hunt out those moments where you go ‘ooh, that’s good!’ Thanks so much for giving us your time. No worries. A pleasure :)

[hypmic-writings]

Congrats on 2 years!!🎉🎉🎉o(〃＾▽＾〃)o .Can i request a gentaro x F!Reader soulmate AU? I really Love your work! Keep doing what you do!! (And/or love lol)

I definitely love doing this blog so no worries there! Thank you for requesting this! This started as one thing and quickly became a whole different thing so I really hope it makes sense. Soulmate!AU with Gentaro is amazing because I feel like he would be really into it. Honestly the hardest part was the date/times and trying to make sure the math was correct haha Hope this was what you wanted~

Word Count: 4,086 

Genre: Angst/Fluff; Soulmate!AU, Female!Reader

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Everyone in the world had a soulmate marker.

Some had their first words of their soulmate inscribed on their skin. Some could sense their soulmates emotions, while others had distinctive, colorful markings that matched their soulmates. Some had compasses that could tell them the direction their soulmate was in while others simply had a number or word that was supposed to hold enough significance to dictate their lives.

Soulmates could be romantic, platonic, or anything in between. All it meant was an intensely strong bond between two people.

You simply had a timer on the back of your wrist where most people would fasten a watch. It was barely noticeable against the flesh of your skin, matching to the skin tone almost perfectly, but just one shade off so that you could read it. You had asked your family and friends if they could see it, but apparently it was not visible to anyone but yourself.

--

10:03:15:22:39:04

9 years, 7 months, 15 days, 22 hours, 39 minutes, 4 seconds.

That was how much time was left on your wrist when you first entered middle school at age 15.

You remembered frowning in annoyance, mad that you would have to wait an entire 9 years before meeting your soulmate. It was infuriating to say the least, especially as a young girl who would often daydream about your Prince Charming that would one day come to sweep you off your feet.

It had always been easy for you to make friends, and high school was no exception. You quickly joined clubs that interested you, meeting new people and working hard.

You met Gentaro Yumeno in literature club when you joined in your first year and quickly became close friends with him. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it, but more than that – he intrigued you. Always able to create intense, captivating storylines, Gentaro was always the first to have the most creative ideas on what to read, write, and discuss. You would spend hours together pouring over novels and literature and it was clear that you both held a passion for it.

He was playful and charming to everyone around him, but it was so blatantly clear to you that it was all just surface level. He was so much more complex than anyone gave him credit for, and it drove you mad.

All you wanted to do was talk to him for hours and hours about everything and anything. You wanted to know more about him in every sense of the word. What he liked. What he disliked. What made him happy or mad or sad or exhilarated.  

One day, when you and Gentaro had just started your second year, you were eating lunch together on the roof when he asked you a question.

“Y/N,” he had said, his voice soft and happy. “What’s your soulmate marker?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere and you found yourself pausing for a moment before scooting closer to him and rolling up your sleeve to point at your wrist.

“It’s this. I know you can’t see it but it’s a watch that’s counting down the time until I meet my soulmate,” you explained. Gentaro’s eyes lit up as he took your wrist excitedly in his hands.

“I can see it too! Amazing!” he exclaimed, smiling widely. Your eyes grew twice their size as you gaped at him in shock.

“Wait, what?! Really!?” you shouted, beginning to feel excited. Gentaro chuckled lightly and let go of your wrist to shrug a little.

“Hehe, that was just a lie though,” he said with a boyish laugh. You quickly deadpanned before whining about how mean he always was to you. He simply nodded and apologized, taking your words as they rolled off his back. You resumed eating for a moment before frowning.

“Wait, what’s your soulmate mark?” you asked, suddenly curious. Gentaro dramatically put his hand to his forehead and the other to his heart

“I know nothing but the date of death of my soulmate! It’s a horrible knowledge to have but I alone must bear it!”

“…Gentaro…”

“Well, that was just a lie~”

--

05:11:02:07:49:22

5 years, 11 months, 2 days, 7 hours, 49 minutes, 22 seconds.

You glanced at your wrist briefly as you fixed your graduation dress. It was colder than most winters and you shivered as you quickly grabbed your coat, hugging yourself closely.

“Are your parents going to meet us there?” Gentaro asked, walking back into the living room. You nodded and gave him a smile.

“Yea, it’s just a little family get-together, so nothing big,” you stated, casually. “Thanks for coming though! There’ll be a few other people there so I’m sure you’ll know someone else,” you added, fixing the bracelet your were fumbling with to your wrist. You felt Gentaro’s eyes on you and you turned to face him with a confused smile. His gaze was unreadable and it made you slightly nervous.

“What?” you asked, laughing lightly. Gentaro shot you a warm smile and shook his head.

“It’s nothing. You just look very pretty, Y/N,” he said, his eyes softening into a sincere look that was so rare it was almost foreign to you. You felt your heart jump at his words and you immediately looked away for fear of betraying your emotions.

“T-thank you,” you said, feeling warmth blossom in your chest.

You found yourself pausing for a moment and wondering if this was the time to confess. You were both alone, but you were going to your graduation party together. If you confessed and he didn’t accept, would that make things awkward? You weren’t going to the same college and you didn’t know how often you would see him again, if ever.

The thought of never seeing Gentaro again sent a sharp pain to your chest and you instinctively brought a hand to your heart.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Gentaro asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

That’s right. He was still with you for now. And if the next few weeks were the last weeks you would have together, then you would make the most of them. You would spend as much time with him as possible and be as close to him as possible.

“Gentaro…” you managed, stepping a bit closer to him. “There’s…something I need to tell you…” you said, beginning to feel nervous. The confidence you built up moments ago was already beginning to fade as you felt your heart beat in your chest.

“Oh? Is this a confession?” Gentaro suddenly said. You shot your eyes up to him and felt the heat burn on your face as you took a step back.

“What!? Hey! Don’t just say things like that so casually! I was trying to be honest!” you shouted, embarrassment flooding your body as you crossed your arms around your chest tightly. “You ruined the moment…” you mumbled, trailing off as Gentaro’s light laugh filled the room. You were about to yell at him to stop when he spoke up.

“Y/N,” he said, bringing your attention back to him. “I’ve liked you ever since I first met you in literature club Freshman year, you know. You were so cute, even back then, it was hard for me to not have feelings for you.”

Gentaro’s sudden confession made your heart stop and your brain froze for a moment as you processed his words. He had feelings for you as well…and he had held them for just as long as you had.

“Why…” you whispered. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you whined. “We could have spent more time together if you had!”

“Oh, but you didn’t say anything either so it’s not just my fault, right?” Gentaro said with his head tilted slightly and a hand on his chin. You sighed heavily and nodded at his words; he wasn’t wrong.

“Yea, I know…” you said, hesitantly. There was a brief pause as you composed your thoughts. “But…I do really like you, Gentaro,” you insisted, feeling the nerves come back as you spoke your true feelings. “I know that we might not have much time left together, but I guess I just wanted to be honest with you.”

Gentaro hummed at your words and you watched as he took your hand in his own. He gave you another sincere smile and you felt almost dizzy at the way he looked at you in that moment. His other hand brought itself to your chin and you let him brush your cheeks with his fingers before he slowly brought his lips down onto your own.

You stayed like that for a moment before you both pulled away, cheeks slightly flushed with smiles on both of your wet lips. You squeezed his hand gently before laughing nervously and looking away. The heat rising in your body was burning and you wanted nothing more than to stay with him for longer.

“That was…” you started, biting your lip. “…nice,” you finished, unable to articulate just how special that one touch of lips made you feel. You were sure Gentaro had better words, but he simply smiled and nodded, brushing your hair with a finger before pulling away.

“Yes. That was rather nice,” he said, laughing lightly as he walked past you towards the front door. Your eyes followed him with anticipation as he opened the door, the cold wind already blowing into the room. He held it open and reached out an arm towards you, willing you to take it and follow him outside.

“My lady,” he said, dramatically with a smile. A grin lifted your lips as you curtsied dramatically and took his hand with a laugh.

“My lord.”

--

02:07:17:09:58:16

2 years, 7 months, 17 days, 9 hours, 58 minutes, 16 seconds.

It had been a few years since high school and you laughed when you thought back to how you were worried you might not ever see Gentaro again. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. As soon as graduation was completed, you texted each other even more. You were always telling him about your day and all the things going on in your life and he kept you updated as well.

You often met for coffee or drinks, laughing about the past and making plans to meet up to do different things. It got to the point that you were spending so much time at his apartment, he eventually suggested you move in as his roommate. The idea of splitting rent and saving money appealed heavily to both of you, and although you went to separate colleges, you had no problem commuting. Especially since you were on track to graduate early.

“Surprise! Isn’t it great?” you said, marveling at your self-proclaimed masterpiece of a birthday cake. Gentaro laughed and nodded, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“It looks delicious, Y/N,” he said, fondly. “Thank you.” He turned to you and suddenly pressed a kiss to the top of your head before releasing you from his hold to grab some plates. You felt your breath catch at the action and your smile wavered a bit before you plastered it back on, offering to grab the forks.

You weren’t exactly sure what your relationship with Gentaro was.

You were living together, of course, but it wasn’t romantically. You would call each other pet names sometimes, but it was only ever playful. Sometimes you had mental breakdowns with the stress of school and you would cry in his arms until falling asleep with him, but that’s what friends did, right?

Kissing…was also something friends did…right?

“Gentaro,” you asked, watching him closely as he popped another piece of cake happily into his mouth. He glanced over at you with a frown immediately coming to his face and you wondered just how well he knew you that he was able to hear the change in your voice so quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly. He had glanced over at you with a frown immediately coming to his face and you wondered just how well he knew you that he was able to hear the change in your voice so quickly.  

You gulped a little and licked your lips. Was now really the best time to do this? It was his birthday after all. Maybe it would be better to wait until later on a day not meant for celebration.

“Y-you…!” you suddenly said, trying to think of a different topic. You glanced down at your wrist and saw your timer. “You never told me! That day on the roof in high school….you never told me what your soul mark was!” you exclaimed. You silently praised yourself for being such a quick thinker before turning to Gentaro with a feigned pout.

Gentaro’s eyes widened for a moment before he broke into a smile.

“Why are you suddenly bringing that up?” he asked, laughing lightly. You frowned, suddenly very interested in the topic.

“Why do you keep avoiding it?” you ask. “Every time I bring it up, you either tell me some crazy story or a blatant lie!” you added, crossing your arms at him expectantly. Gentaro brought a hand to the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Ah, you’re acting scary, Y/N,” he stated, backing up slowly from you. You held his gaze for a moment before sighing and shaking your head. It had always been something you had wondered about, but you knew how intimate the details of soulmates could be so you had never inquired into it too much.

You had to remind yourself once again that the man standing across from you was not your soulmate.

There was someone else. Someone you hadn’t met yet. It was a thought you always had, constantly berating yourself for getting too close when your destiny was different. You and Gentaro were never meant to be together, but saying it out loud would make it all too real, so you never voiced your concerns to him. The thought that had brought you so much pleasure and excitement as a child suddenly made you feel nauseous.

“Y/N?” Gentaro asked, his voice now laced with concern. “You look sick, are you okay?” he asked, bringing a hand to your shoulder. You quickly moved away, not wanting him to touch you for fear that you would say something you would regret. You gave him a weak smile and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly, gulping hard. “I’m fine, let’s watch a movie, okay?” you stated, quickly changing the subject as you turned to put your empty plate into the sink.

What you couldn’t see was Gentaro’s gaze lingering on your back, his hand still outstretched to you.

--

00:04:03:17:59:02

0 years, 4 months, 3 days, 17 hours, 59 minutes, 2 seconds.

“It’s way too hot,” you groaned, letting the cold air of the fridge cool you down as much as possible. You heard a chuckle from behind you as arms wrapped themselves around your waist. You whined at the touch and shuffled away from your boyfriend, sneaking closer to the fridge.

“No cuddles. Too hot,” you stated, bluntly.

Gentaro chuckled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You’re being mean, love,” he said, standing up slowly to go to the sink for water. You shook your head and stared into the now empty fridge, wondering if there was any way in the world you could possibly fit inside of it. You wiped sweat away from your forehead and as you did, noticed the shine of your soulmate timer. You glanced down at it with a sigh to see that you only had a few months left to go.

It didn’t make any sense. You were the happiest you had ever been in your life.

You and Gentaro had been dating for almost year now and it was everything you could have possibly wanted. It was nerve-wrecking at first with awkward words and touches from your end, but somehow Gentaro always knew exactly what to say and what to do.

He had an impeccable sense of your desires and seemed to know what you needed before you did yourself. When you had a bad day, you would come home to dinner waiting for you. When you had good news, he would somehow have brought home dessert ‘just because he felt like it’.

He was your hand to hold when you were nervous and your rock when you were scared. He was your best friend and the man you held so many feelings for, that if you thought about them too much, you were convinced you would explode.

So, what was this silly timer? Who was this other person that was supposedly going to come in and sweep you away from the man you truly believed you loved? How could there be anyone else that made you feel as safe and happy as Gentaro did?

“I got these for you,” Gentaro said, sitting down next to you and handing you a cold drink. You blinked at it for a moment before looking at him in confusion.

“Did you get these just now?” you asked, wondering how long you had been spacing out for. Gentaro laughed and shook his head.

“No, silly,” he said, tapping your forehead gently and teasing you. “I put them in the freezer a while ago because I knew it would be cold and that you would want some.”

You stared down at the can in his hand and took it from him with a pout, shooing his hand away from your face.

“Stop making it sound like I’m so needy,” you muttered, causing Gentaro to laugh once more and lean over to kiss your nose.

“You are needy,” he teased, dodging your hand as you reached out to smack him, but lost the energy to do so. “But you’re also a gorgeous, stunning maiden whose kindness and strength knows no bounds.”

You glanced at him with confusion at his words and saw his look melt into one of dramatic reverence as he looked off into the distance. You rolled your eyes but smiled as you leaned into his shoulder.

“Stop it,” you whined in a low voice, exhausted from the summer heat. Gentaro hummed and rested his head against yours.

“Never,”

--

00:00:00:00:05:46

0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 5 minutes, 46 seconds.

“Let me go,” you said, your voice low and breaking. You had one hand on the door handle and were staring down at your timer that was rapidly ticking down.

“Please,” Gentaro begged, tightened his grasp on your arm. “Please don’t leave, Y/N.”

His voice was shaking and you could feel the hurt and pain lacing each of his words. You felt the guilt punch you in the stomach, knowing that you were entirely to blame for this.

You were so confused and you didn’t know what to do. With less than five minutes left, you knew you had to leave the apartment. It didn’t matter how cold it was outside, you had to be somewhere you could meet someone.

How would your soulmate find you if you were locked up in your house?

“You don’t understand, Gentaro,” you hurriedly hissed at him, pulling his hand away from your arm. “I need to find out who my soulmate is! I need to know, I can’t not know!”

The room was spinning now. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. Were you supposed to be here? Where else were you supposed to go? Would they find you here? Were you still breathing?

“But it’s your soulmate! It doesn’t matter if it’s a friend or a lover or anything else; it doesn’t matter where you go or what you do, right?!” Gentaro pleaded, reading your mind once more as his voice cracked from the pain he was obviously in. “They’ll find you wherever you are so please, don’t leave, Y/N!” he begged once more, tears beginning to build in his eyes. “Just stay.”

You could barely see him through the haze of water in your own eyes, but you acutely felt your heart break in your chest at his words. Your head felt like it was about to burst with thoughts racing desperately, any one of them hoping to connect.

Why were you hurting him like this?

“If I stay here, nothing will happen. Don’t you get that?” you cried in desperation. “I’ll never know my soulmate and then - ”

“What? You’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your life? Is that it?” Gentaro asked as a tear rolled down his cheek. You bit back a sob as you shook your head violently.

“No, of course not, that’s not it at all! I just…I need to find…” you tried to look for the right words to convey how you felt, but your mind was jumbled and time was running out.

“You don’t need to find anyone else!” Gentaro shouted, causing you to shoot your gaze towards him in shock. He rarely ever raised his voice and hearing him do so only made the sob from your mouth and tears from your eyes feel that much more pathetic.

“Gentaro, I have to – ”

“You don’t have to do anything! Because nobody else will ever feel the way I feel about you, Y/N!” he cried, bringing his hands to your shoulders and holding you tightly. You looked up at him through tear filled eyes and shook your head in confusion and frustration.

“I don’t know what – ”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, it was as though time stood still.

The room seemed to disappear around you and in that moment it was only you and Gentaro, sobbing into each other’s arms. The silence was deafening, but was quickly filled by the sound of your rapidly beating heart. The burning in your chest reminded you to breathe and as soon as you gasped, which came out as a sob, it was like you had been dropped back down to reality.

You were clinging to Gentaro’s chest now and he had his arms wrapped around you so tightly you felt like you would break. You were both crying hard, tears soaking every surface that came into contact with your face. You tried to speak but your voice was caught in your throat, only letting out guttural sounds and desperate cries as you held onto Gentaro for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” you cried into his chest, shaking in his arms. Gentaro’s hair fell into your face, tickling your cheeks as you felt him shake his head.

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” he muttered, his voice light and barely audible. “I’ve loved you for so long. I should have known you were my soulmate right from the start.”

You bowed your head as you hesitantly brought your wrist up to your gaze, staring down at the zeroes.  

He was right – it had always been him.

It was never a countdown to meet the love of your life.

It was merely a countdown until the moment your soulmate proclaimed their love for you.

--

00:00:00:00:00:00

0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds.

“It’s going to be terrifying.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” Gentaro corrected you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you firmly on the lips. You shook your head at his antics, pushing him away as you turned back to the multiple cakes laid out in front of you.

“You like the chocolate one, don’t you? Number 3?” Gentaro said. You nodded, reaching out to your plate to grab some frosting with your finger before bringing it to your mouth.

“How do you always know exactly what I’m thinking?” you asked, humming happily.

“What can I say? My fiancée has good taste,” he hummed, tapping your nose with his frosting covered finger. You squealed in delight but whined his name as you hurriedly wiped your face.

You reveled in the sweet sound of Gentaro’s laughter as he wrapped his hands around your stomach from behind, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You leaned back into him and let him kiss you lovingly, a smile playing on your lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into your neck. You glanced down at him and nodded, lifting his head up by placing a finger under his chin so that his face was level with yours.

“I love you too, my wonderful soulmate.”

--

A/N: Y/N’s soulmate tracker was a countdown was a timer until her soulmate proclaimed their love to her. Gentaro’s soulmate tracker was that he was empathically linked to Y/N.

[alirhi]

chapter two :)

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 2/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable.

WARNINGS: m/m, in case that wasn't obvious. probably some swearing. I rarely do explicit sex but it might get to that point, depending on if the mood strikes me. If you're under 18, just go away XD Notes: taking advantage of the muse while I've got it lol. I should be working on actual books but... Loki took over my brain [EDIT] I rewatched CW after writing this chapter and realized there was no snow XD everything was green. Clearly, they were in SoCal, not NY. I'm from the Northeast, so I automatically associate December with snow, ice, and all things evil (I hate extremes lol). My bad.

Loki, you've changed.

"I'm fine."

Loki, you've become so unfocused.

"I'm fine."

Loki, are you alright, dear?

"I'm fine!" Maybe, he'd thought, if he repeated it often enough, it might become true. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. He's gone-I'M FINE!

He'd never told anyone about his soldier boy; Heimdall was the only one who even knew Loki was going to Midgard frequently in the early 1940s, and even he didn't know why. Loki had made sure of it. A handy, if tiring trick, to keep prying all-seeing eyes out of his business. The end result of his desire for privacy, though, the price he paid for being cagey, was that when he went back and found himself alone, he couldn't tell anyone what he'd lost.

Bucky was gone. He was gone, and Loki couldn't even share his grief with his mother, because he'd been so scared to tell her about his unexpected, unorthodox love. For a brief few months, he'd found little stolen moments of bliss; a heartbeat, and barely that. He'd known his fragile human love would one day perish, and that he'd never be ready, but even in his darkest nightmares of the war Bucky was facing, he'd never truly thought it would happen this soon.

He was gone, and Loki was left all alone. He couldn't let anyone see his grief, so he showed them indifference. He showed them callous disregard and a flippant sharp tongue that drove them all mad. He could turn to none of them, so he did all he could to turn them away; maybe if they weren't all looking at him, for just a few minutes, he could let himself break and weep for the love stolen from him too soon.

Eventually, he realized he would never have that moment if he stayed on Asgard. There were simply too many prying eyes, and not enough holes to hide from them in. Though it tore him to shreds to even think it, he snuck away back to Midgard for the first time in decades.

The spot he'd chosen was meant to be deserted. A snowy woodland road in the middle of the night, he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to be there. It was perfect, really. Except that it wasn't actually deserted.

It took him a moment to understand what he was seeing as he approached the two vehicles. One was an automobile, its front end smashed against a tree and in flames, with two silent, unmoving passengers. The other was a motorcycle, and that really confused him. Who would ride around so exposed in this kind of weather?

Movement caught his eye, and for a brief, foolish second he felt relief. Someone was helping the unconscious pair in the car-no. Someone was walking away from them.

Someone unnervingly familiar. "James?" It couldn't be! He'd died in that bloody war! Even if he hadn't, humans aged rapidly; he'd be an old man, barely able to move, much less choke the life out of a woman, which Loki's brain oh-so-helpfully had just processed, belatedly.

This man, who looked like Bucky but wasn't, had just murdered someone right in front of him. Loki wasn't even sure if he cared. He was too stunned and confused to feel much of anything.

The man didn't respond, but he did march straight up to him. At first, Loki thought they might have a conversation – perhaps this was a relative of Bucky's, wondering how Loki knew his great-great Uncle or some such?

No. He was getting rather tired of being wrong. Perhaps Odin was right; he was unfocused, off his game. The man's icy metal fingers were wrapped around his throat before he'd fully processed what was about to happen.

Without thinking, Loki smirked and taunted, "Straight to it, then? It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

That voice! "It can't be...!" Eyes wide, Loki broke his own code and slapped a hand onto the man's fluffy head. It couldn't be Bucky, after all, so reading his mind wasn't betraying the man he loved.

The mad, nonsensical scramble that flooded his mind nearly made him faint. It was like a long, distorted scream tearing through his head. They both let go of the other and stumbled back, not-Bucky looking stunned and confused, and Loki barely able to think straight through the pain and confusion.

One word slowly made its way to the surface out of the din: HYDRA.

"What is HYDRA?" He was still clutching his own head, willing the world to stop spinning at such an alarming, nauseating rate, when he heard the other man's voice again.

"Hail HYDRA." It was soft, monotone and automatic, as if he wasn't even fully aware of what he was saying. Even with that haunting lack of emotion, that voice was too familiar.

Loki had to know what was going on. Bracing himself for another onslaught, he gripped the man's head with both hands and focused with all his might. The static nearly overwhelmed him, but the images slowly made their way through. Capture, imprisonment, torture... Trauma and anger and diving right back into the fray. Falling. Pain. Delirium.

"You will be the new fist of HYDRA."

It finally clicked, and he threw his arms around Bucky – yes, Gods, it was Bucky! HYDRA. He knew that name! That was the organization within the Nazi ranks that Bucky had been fighting against.

"Oh, James! What did they do to you?"

He was so caught up in trying to piece it all together from his love's suppressed memories that he was completely unprepared when Bucky shoved him back, and he fell right on his ass in a snow bank. Indignant, he hopped back to his feet and started brushing himself off, but paused when he found the barrel of a gun in his peripheral vision. With his patented arrogant smirk firmly in place, he informed him, "That won't kill me."

Bucky looked confused, and the gun wavered. Then, for a split second, Bucky – his Bucky – was back and Loki was folded tightly in his arms. They held each other like a lifeline, smashing their lips together in a fierce kiss that left them both breathless.

"Loki?"

He smiled through the haze of tears suddenly blurring his vision, a choked laugh that was more than half-sob escaping him as he ran his hands through that ridiculous long hair over and over again. "Yes. I don't know how you're alive, but I am so grateful!"

"Run!" Eyes wild, Bucky pushed him back, more gently this time, but with far more urgency. "'No witnesses.' Loki, you have to run! Now!"

"What?"

"Get out of here, before I figure out what will kill you!"

"I don't understand..." The machine. The final piece fell into place from Bucky's scrambled memories, and filled him with rage. The reason Bucky's mind was so screwed up, the reason he wavered even now and the dull, robotic look returned to his eyes; they'd figured out how to control him. They'd stripped away his free will and left him a shell of himself, able only to obey their orders.

He could see the internal struggle as what was left of his Bucky fought against the mindless soldier. Hoping to mitigate that as much as he could until he could free the other man, he assured him through clenched teeth, "Do what you have to, Sergeant. Survive. I'll take care of the rest."

The look of profound confusion, of a little lost puppy, was heartbreaking. Bucky was trying so hard to stay himself, to not harm him. Watching him suffer was more than Loki could bear.

"I'll return for you," he swore as he slipped back into the shadows. "I'm going to burn it all down."

______________________________________________________

Next Masterlist

[rvmmm21]

. you know who i am? .

k, so i didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand. also, my first time writing in present tense? idk how to feel about it, but i guess it’s different. it felt so different writing for like actual humans lol. my first ��normal’ fic, this is!

please for the sake of this making sense can we all pretend jennie, joy and irene are around the same age? also look who had fun with brand names. moi.

anyways this is [badgirl/bully!joohyun ‘persuading’ clumsy freshman!seungwan to be her assignment buddy] 

...

University culture is grating.

It’s overwhelming and it suffocates her. She has no time to prepare herself for the apparent runway the halls have become, what with the stupid-rich kids treating every day like it’s a fashion show; Seungwan can barely blink from one person to the next without being smacked across the face with fur coats from Chanel, Louis Vuitton sunglasses hidden under Prada nylon bucket hats and Off-White tracksuits tucked into Balenciaga socks. She hadn’t considered a future in law enforcement, but had she done so, anyone who tucked their trousers into their socks mid-calf would find themselves behind bars with the rest of the criminal scum. End of.

Just as she dusts her hands of that smug little sentiment, Seungwan finds herself with a face full of hair, and an even bigger nose full of what smells like laundry detergent. She lets out an embarrassing squeal, and the girl turns round to face her. A ghost of a scowl brushes across her face before she fixes her with an indiscernible gaze.

That scowl is an awful colour on a face as pretty as yours, she impulsively thinks.

Seungwan knows no more about the history of art and the intricacies of sculpture than the average Joe, but she’s sure Michelangelo missed the mark with David. She inwardly laughs at the thought of the man dedicating his entire being to crafting his flimsy idea of ‘perfection’ when she’d just bumped into it; the real thing. Of course, if that was defined by forming new constellations from faded freckles on flawless skin, or vantablack tresses framing sharp features like a painting, then yes; she was, by very definition, ‘the perfect (wo)man’. Easily outdoing anyone within a 50-metre radius.

Heck, make that 500.

The girl glares intimidation and Seungwan manages to save herself the humiliation of drooling in front of the white-hot beauty and her friends with a quick gulp, already feeling crimson seeping into her cheeks.

Perfect; now that she’s watched whatever new potential friendship this was blow up in her face, all she has to do is avoid her at all costs from here on out.

She mouths a haphazard apology and zooms past before anything can come of it, keeping her head down even after she’s well out of sight. Seulgi, Seulgi, Seulgi, save me, she brisk walks and begs all the way to class.

~~~~~~~~~~

A small commotion rings through the lecture hall of keyboard clicks and lethargic shuffles, calling to attention the girl who’s just spilt her drink down her front, now frantically digging around in her backpack for anything she can use to soak it up. A few jeering giggles are stifled, meanwhile students close by donate tissues and sympathetic looks. They are gratefully accepted with rapid-fire bows and machine-gun stuttered apologies.

“That freshman’s just ruined her rep, huh?” Jennie chuckles, “blindly walking into people… can’t even keep liquid in the cup. Give her a dog collar and a sign and she’s good to go.”

“Eh, I thought it was cute.”

Jennie’s retort comes quick.

“Sooyoung, you think anything in a skirt is cute.”

“What,” the girl says, ignoring the implication, “Haetnimie doesn’t wear skirts. And she’s not even wearing one right now. Plus, I didn’t say ‘she’s cute’, I said ‘it’s cute’. Learn the difference, idiot… it’s not like I wanna have at her or anything…”

Jennie shoots her an incredulous look and Sooyoung relents the banter. They both turn their attention to the girl sitting next to them, completely un-present in the moment. Sooyoung notices who she’s looking at and leans in to nudge her.

“Joohyun,” she whispers, poking her in the ribs when it’s obvious their friend is well on her way to signing a contract with NASA with how apparently well accustomed to space she is, “what do you think of her? Or are you still mad she walked into you?”

“Nah, forget it,” Jennie waves her off before she’s even had a chance to respond, “she’s not interested. I had to literally pay her money to go on a stupid double date with me in high school. I washed five cars for her to not even hold his hand once during the movie.”

Instead of participating, Joohyun sighs, casting the girl in question a seemingly uninterested stare. Unbothered eyes take in the sight she’s presented with: frustrated brows knitted together under a wispy caramel fringe and a blot of taro milk tea the size of Canada staining her baby blue jumper.

“I want her.”

The words are so simple her friends almost miss them entirely.

Sooyoung and Jennie battle for first place in an impromptu competition of ‘who’s-the-most-shocked’.

“You’re joking! Yah, you’re so annoying seriously, now?! You couldn’t have ‘wanted’ Min-seok in year nine?! I paid good, hard cash for that stupid boy!”

Joohyun looks at her, smug as a cat.

“I did it for you, Jennie. I didn’t even remember his name was Min-ho.”

“Min-seok.”

“Yeah, right.”

Sooyoung, wide-eyed and on the verge of passing out, grabs Joohyun by the shoulders, ignoring the glare she receives for it. “Joohyun, seriously? You’re serious. You want her like want her? Or want her like you wanted that cookbook after that trial week of Food Tech during summer break?”

Joohyun regards her, absolutely blasé. “I don’t follow recipes.”

“Exactly. Are you play-”

Sooyoung’s statement dies down with the rest of the class as the lecturer walks in. Furious clicking, hurricane scribbles and flipping pages are all that remain as the lesson kicks off, Jennie and Sooyoung casually scrolling through Instagram while the professor speaks. Joohyun leans forward, elbows on desk and chin resting on interlocked fingers. Her full attention is on the poor girl on the other side of the hall, intermittently peeling the cold, damp fabric away from her body, face flushed and avoiding all eye contact. Joohyun snickers at how uncomfortable it must be to have to sit through class in a wet jumper, how awkward and squeamish she looks.

Strawberry-tinted lips curl into the faintest smirk.

Hello cutie.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yah! Kang Seul-Gi!” Seungwan calls out to chocolate-swirly space buns and baggy gym clothes hurtling towards her from across campus grounds, “where the heck were you?!”

“Sorry sorry! Overslept!”

“What!? Your class starts at noon! … and this is like… day 1!”

The girl looks like she’s barely had the chance to screw her head on the right way as she joins Seungwan on the steps of the university entrance.

Seungwan’s sweating buckets; physically and metaphorically, both from the waves of humidity and her all-exclusive one-idiot circus show this morning in class. That little muck up makes it to the tippy top of the endless list of embarrassing things Seungwan has stored in her long-term memory.

“You okay?”

Seungwan palms rosy cheeks as she takes another mouthful of her rainbow sherbet cone.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.”

Seulgi chortles as her best friend recounts her ordeal, trying to subdue the sea of smart alec remarks bubbling under her skin.

“So that was great, too. And now I’m a laughing stock. A meme. They’re probably editing my stupid face as I speak…”

Seulgi reverts back to the first incident. Of course she would.

“Sooo… not like in the dramas then?”

Seungwan hangs her head, “not at all… she looked like she wanted to kill me.”

Seulgi lets out a snort before prodding her with more curious questions. The cogs in Seungwan’s brain churn and stutter as she tries to filter as many redundant adjectives as possible, only using ones she deems absolutely necessary to describe the most beautifully terrifying girl she’s ever seen.

Just then, as if Seungwan had meant to conjure hell itself, the three girls make an appearance from round the corner, chatting amongst themselves and taking Seungwan and Seulgi by surprise. The latter glances down where steely fingers are squeezing her wrist, as if that’d activate some magical cloak of invisibility. Seungwan’s as good as swallowed her tongue, shakily motioning to the girl in the middle of the black velvet storm with her eyes and a few nose twitches.

“H-her…” she stutters, finally getting her brain into gear after they leave, “… her.”

Innocent eyes double in size at the realisation.

“Wha-wait no, her?! You bumped into… her?! Her, Bae Joohyun leader of killer senior pack Bae Joohyun?”

Seungwan’s heart only thumps faster at the panic in Seulgi’s voice, but her words still mean nothing. The other girl swipes the dangling question marks off the top of her friend’s clueless head.

“Yo Wan-ah, you have to lay low. I mean why would you even – oh geez wow you really messed up. Can’t you look where you’re – I can’t even begin to – why would you – oh my gosh!”

Seulgi’s disjointed sentences allow enlightenment to trickle in and Seungwan slaps a hand over her forehead, mortified.

Oh god no. That’s the Bae Joohyun?

She’d heard the rumours. Many, rumours. Bae Joohyun who makes her juniors cry. Bae Joohyun; precious daughter of the most elusive mafia gang leader in all of Korea. Bae Joohyun; ice queen senior, sole roost-ruler of Hanyang University and the biggest bully you’ll ever meet.

Positively preposterous, empty claims with no evidence whatsoever to back them up… she hopes.

“Pft yeah okay she’s… mean, but she’s not like… jesus or anything she can’t… like… part the Red Sea or, turn water into vodka I don’t know,” Seungwan tries and fails at consoling herself, receiving nothing but an apologetic pat on the back from the girl beside her.

“Yeah well… she’s not the messiah but everyone treats her like it. And for the sake of your own neck, you’d better start too. Watch out, Wan-ah.”

Seungwan hadn’t paid any mind to those wet-eared freshmen whom she’d overheard during orientation gossiping about Joohyun and her charming little posse; but perhaps she should have.

She gulps, too afraid to think of anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan often fantasizes at work. There has to be some way to pass the time, after all.

Deep down she’s a sucker for romance, she knows it far too well; she envisions herself ten years down the line, letting whoever she has on the other end of the phone know that she’ll be home soon, that work has just been extra grueling today, and that she cannot wait to give them a cuddle. She’ll stir the dinner pot while she tells them stories, pausing in between to remind her lover how beautiful they are. Perhaps one day, the honour will be hers, to see her soulmate walking down the aisle.

But as the tinkling of the doorbell rings through her café, Seungwan files those cloudy fantasies for later and greets her first customers with a smile.

She hasn’t been sleeping very well, worrying her mind with ridiculous thoughts and impossible scenarios. All involving Joohyun as a tick-tocky alligator and herself as none other than Captain ‘I’m-actually-innocent-why-are-you-still-trying-to-eat-me’ Hook.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s five minutes to closing time. Seungwan suppresses the yawn in her chest and blinks away the moisture in her eyes. Just zero to sixty, five times in your head. You got this, Seungwan. Gosh, there’s no one in the café and hardly anyone outside. She briefly contemplates closing early.

“Small iced Americano.”

“Coming r – aii!! Ai…!”

Seungwan’s adrenaline spikes so high she could serve it ice cold in a coffee cup right now. Caught completely off guard, she begins stammering nonsense behind the till, crinkling the leather of her dark brown work apron and then using the hem of her polo shirt to wring clammy palms none the drier. All the while her customer stands there, brow quirked and card held out between slender fingers. Her expression, although slightly amused, threatens her to take her money, or else.

Before she can open her mouth, a buttery voice snaps her out of her trance.

“Hello, Seung – wan… hey, don’t we have Korean Literature together?”

Seungwan tries not to spontaneously combust on the job as she instinctively slaps a hand over her name tag. It’s useless though, it is now known. Known to her, of all people. The notorious Bae Joohyun; dressed in Acne jeans and an over-sized midnight Balenciaga cardigan, she looks like any other young, caffeine-dependent university student. But Seungwan knows a lot better.

Oh god save me… what the hell is she doing here!? This has to be a set up. She’s here for me. I’m going to die tonight. Mummy, daddy I love you.

“J-J-Juh…”

She can’t say it. All the years of schooling; learning the alphabet and how to enunciate your words drain out through the holes in her ears. She gawks dumbly, moving her head in what could be considered to be a nod.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you,” she doesn’t even bother trying to sound surprised, “I’m Joohyun.”

Don’t I know.

All Seungwan can do is nod again, hating herself for even breathing right now.

Joohyun clicks her tongue and fiddles with the card in her hand, impatient, “soooo… is this Americano free, or…?”

Yes, yes it’s free, please just take it and go! I’ll upgrade it to an extra-large if you want, on me! If it means I’m spared for the rest of my student life, take it all! Jesus, how did you even find me?!

“Ah, yes. Sorry! Uh, yes that’ll be um two fif – two… two thirty.”

There’s a shaky exchange of a debit card and a forgotten peace treaty iced Americano before Seungwan takes an unconscious shuffle back from the register, eyes glued to the smudge on the toe of her right sneaker, unable to meet Joohyun’s piercing gaze for too long.

“Thank you, Seungwan.”

The way she lingers on the ‘S’ whispers shivers down the girl’s spine. She glances up at the worst possible time, too, nearly jumping out of her mismatched Muji socks when she sees Joohyun’s hibiscus-tinted lips bloom into a coy smirk.

“I’ll see you around.”

And with what a shivering Seungwan could’ve sworn was a terrible attempt at a wink, Joohyun is gone. Clutching at her chest, she tries to slow her accelerated heartrate, praying she doesn’t need heart surgery after what she’s just been through.

Seulgi’s so hearing about this.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Daebak,” Sooyoung scoffs, side-eyeing Joohyun as she twiddles her pen.

“What else did you say?” Jennie presses, taking a sip of her chai latte.

Joohyun merely hums, disclosing no further details of her little cafe incident. She misses Jennie’s disbelieving grin when the walking, talking definition of awkward bumbles into the lecture hall, just on time, armful of texts and messy cinnamon locks matted to her face.

Sooyoung can’t resist a jest. “Joohyun, look. It’s idiocy on legs.”

Joohyun bites back a snort as her eyes follow the girl stumbling and murmuring apologies all the way to her seat. She slumps into the chair with burning cheeks, brushing her hair back with her fingers and fiddling with her gingerbread fringe. Too cute, Joohyun thinks, gritting her teeth.

It happens about mid-way in the class. The mention of pair work triggers the uniform eye-roll, groan and grumble combo, more so from the seniors, who sure as hell don’t want to be paired with icky, snot-nosed first-years who can barely lift their spoons to their mouths. The grumbling evaporates when it is stated that, although compulsory, it is not a fixed-paired assignment.

Seungwan breathes a sigh of relief along with a few others, content to set up camp in the aisles of the library, perfectly undisturbed. But she suddenly feels paler than chalk; flashbacks of heeled boots, midnight cardigans and heart surgery flooding into her veins once more when she catches a pair of stealthy pupils regarding her from across the room. A deceptively sweet smile sparkling on those dreaded lips, breath-taking and utterly petrifying all at once. Even from the other side of a bloody lecture theatre, Bae Joohyun has Seungwan sweating bullets and unconsciously fidgeting at her collar to release steam no one else can see.

About a minute away from hurling herself out the nearest window, Seungwan diverts her attention to her notebook at the last second. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan stabs her chopstick into the egg yolk, watching it dribble all over her rice. She’s jealous of her own best friend who doesn’t have to live every waking hour with a red sniper laser dot on her back.

Should’ve majored in art too, goddamnit, she curses, poking her lunch in a dazed stupor.

“Wan-ah!”

She scoffs at the familiarity, but Seulgi’s crescent moon grin makes Seungwan momentarily forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

The black cursive of Han Kang’s literature stares up at her as she tries to digest what she’s reading, but she swears her brain allocates the worst times for that sneaky Bae Joohyun to pop up like an unwanted advertisement. Seems like now, she’s going to have to sit through an entire trilogy.

Despite the crippling dread, Seungwan can’t help but wonder. They’re so silly, but she wonders them anyway. She feels free to let her mind wander in the safety of the university library.

Bae Joohyun; Seungwan’s mind is unchanged; she’s the most beautiful girl she’s laid eyes on. It’s a unique kind of beauty; mysteriously edgy, knife-like and femme fatale. The grin Joohyun gave her in class this morning, she knows she should be running from it, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it’s been playing in her head on repeat ever since.

Seungwan unintentionally imagines what it would be like to kiss that sunset-infused smirk right off her face.

Too bad she’s a mean one, she sighs.

She doesn’t get much further with the actual task at hand when her blood-pressure plummets; she watches leader of the killer senior pack, Bae Joohyun, artlessly sit down in the chair next to her. It’s like the world stops spinning for the second it takes their eyes to meet, and Seungwan quivers in her seat, thoughts of literature fleeing out the back of her brain.

Trying to be polite, she gives her a courteous nod and returns to her reading. But Joohyun just sits there, staring, peppering her body with smoking bullet holes – it frightens her in the weirdest way. She can’t help the tiny bubble of… excitement? At the fact that Hanyang’s notorious Bae Joohyun is sitting next to her. Probably to get close enough to kill her, of course, but she’d count her blessings, no matter how terrifying. The thread finally snaps, and Seungwan is able to channel her inner stone statue no more, wordlessly excusing herself and stumbling to the bathroom.

It’s empty and silent; exactly what she needs. She flicks some cool water over the burning in her cheeks and dabs at the heat welled in the corners of her eyes.

But just as she’s about to leave, Joohyun’s standing in the doorway; cloaked in all her intimidating aura and eclipsing her only exit.

“Bathroom break so soon?” Joohyun’s voice drips into her ears like melted honey as she observes a wry smile crawl onto her face, “we’ve barely gotten started. Let’s get back to work… partner.”

It’s kicking in only now what Joohyun is saying. And it takes everything Seungwan has to formulate a pathetic response.

“Oh right, a-about that,” she nervously chuckles, averting her gaze and scratching the back of her neck, “uh, I-I was just um… I don’t wanna drag anyone down with – you know because you’re a senior and all – was m-maybe thinking –”

She doesn’t get very far when Joohyun begins advancing, walking towards her with such sure, dominating strides Seungwan has no choice but to back away, the piercing squeaks of Adidas sneakers easily drowning out the clicking of Louboutin heeled boots. Joohyun sports that coy smirk the whole time she’s cornering poor Seungwan, further and further back, until…

A tiny yelp is torn from her as her back hits the wall. Seungwan strains up to meet her eyes, 5 inch boots are a very useful intimidation tool. Her heart feels about as fragile as sugar glass, and she thinks it would do her good to invest in those styrofoam packing peanuts and a roll of caution tape.  

Joohyun observes the little caramel-haired mouse girl she’s caught; pressed against the cool, beige tile, both hands out in front of her, quivering like a jello pile. She quickly notes the way the top of Seungwan’s head just about grazes the bottom of the wall-mounted paper towel dispenser, and it stretches her grin even further. She looks irresistible, those doe eyes the colour of warm cocoa. Who knew she had a thing for sweet faces, well-intentions and weak-hearts?

Realising her hands aren’t doing anything to keep the other girl at bay, Seungwan drops them like a tonne of bricks - she’s never felt so small and helpless in her life. The rich scent of vanilla and mint tickles her nose; Joohyun’s too close, and she really needs those fragile stickers to go over the thumping in her chest. But she also wants to nuzzle in closer to that intoxicating shampoo smell.

“P-please… I-I didn’t mean to…”

Her voice sounds so tiny and fragile, it tugs on Joohyun’s heartstrings.

“You know who I am?” she demands in somewhat of a growl, caging the smaller girl in with both arms pressed on either side of her head, causing her to gasp out, “you’ve heard?”

Seungwan shrinks a little more, petunias searing onto her milky cheeks at the proximity, but terror-stricken nonetheless. It’s burning, and it’s too much.

A small ‘mm’ and a teary nod is all she can offer.

Joohyun shoots her a challenging smirk, a kaleidoscope of obsidian pebbles flicker in her darkened eyes as she brings a single finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her so she’s forced to look up.

“And you still think you have a choice?”

Seungwan wishes she could rear up at the challenge, hammer some humility into that smug attitude in front of her; put Bae Joohyun in her place. But who is she to change the way the world works? Girls like Joohyun toy with what they want, and get what they toy with; the natural order of things Seungwan has no hope of re-routing. Her resolve, her dignity and everything she’s built up in her 20 years on earth crumbles at her feet; she doesn’t bother picking up the pieces.

With that, she looks up at the girl who still has her locked in with her eyes alone, and meekly shakes her head.

Seungwan can finally breathe when Joohyun detaches herself from the wall and runs both hands down the front of her blouse. She hears a chuckle and before she knows it, there’s an arm around her waist, moving them in tandem.

She doesn’t see the triumphant smile etched into Joohyun’s rosebud lips, like she’s swallowed a coat hanger. All she knows is that they’re now bound by this assignment, and that Joohyun is leaving with exactly what she came for.

Seungwan hides a shy grin of her own.

[singingvio]

So on the headcanon list I just posted I talked about Vio possibly having ADHD and being distracted easily, and because I’m ADHD myself and relate to Vio’s character a lot, I want to talk about that more.

First, a lecture on what exactly ADHD is and how it works because some people just interpret it as ‘LOL I have an attention span of a millisecond who wants ice cream’ and that’s actually incorrect and it kind of pisses me off, then, after that, more headcanon stuff! :D

(I am not knowledgeable about this in a medical sense by any means, but I DO have a pretty bad case of ADHD so I still know exactly what I’m talking about)

First of all, in case you didn’t know, ADHD stands for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder. In non-fancy words, this means Okay Let’s Take Notes Oh My Gosh It’s A Butterfly Let’s Catch It, or A Bit Too Hyper And I Probably Shouldn’t Have A Lot Of Sugar, but there’s more than just that.

There are three major types of ADHD:

ADHD, combined type - This one is the most common type. I have this version of ADHD, and I know the most about it. This means you have trouble paying attention and get easily distracted, and you’re probably hyper or impulsive. This hyperactivity can sometimes last for a very long time, or a very short time. For me, I can be really tired and suddenly want to run a marathon, and then just go to sleep. Or, I can wake up really excited for absolutely nothing and stay that way for almost the whole day. The attention thing you actually can’t fix easily without medication, unlike people with a short attention span who don’t have ADHD. I’ve tried paying attention, and unless I hyperfocus on something (like right now, actually), I CANNOT pay attention for longer than a few minutes. I take medication every morning so my attention span is longer, but that’s really all I can do.

ADHD, impulsive/hyperactive type - This form of ADHD is only hyperactivity. It’s the least common and people with this type of ADHD are energized and can be impulsive or extremely hyper, but this has no affect on their attention span or distractibility. This type still can get distracted, but it’s much harder and they also can’t get into hyperfocus as much as the other two types.

ADHD, inattentive and distractible type - This type is kind of in the middle of how common it is, and it makes it harder to pay attention and you’re easily distractable, and it’s easier to go into hyperfocus (though honestly, I do not reccommend it, you forget to eat and everything). This doesn’t come with being hyper, easily energized, or impulsive, though again, you can still be so without being an ADHD combined type.

We still don’t know how ADHD is caused, but it’s probably genetic. It’s a brain-based biological disorder. Here’s where I get sciency because I had to look this up from multiple sources, so buckle your seatbelts.

People with ADHD have low dopamine levels. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, a type of brain chemical, and can be found using positron emission tomography, or brain-scans. Brain metabolism in people, especially children, with ADHD is shown to be lower in parts of the brain controlling attention, social judgment (we’ll talk about that later), and movement.

Only 4 to 12 percent of children are actually diagnosed with ADHD, and interesting fact, boys are 2-3 times more likely to have hyperactive/combined ADHD than girls. This isn’t important, just a fun fact I guess.

Let’s move on to symptoms of ADHD!

For inattention:

1 - short attention span for age group

2 - difficulty listening to others

3 - hard time remembering details

4 - easily distractable

5 - forgetful often

6 - poor organization

7 - poor study skills

(I’ve got symptoms 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, AND 7.)

For impulsivity/hyperactivity:

1 - Often interrupts others

2 - Not a lot of patience

3 - Tends to blurt out answers

4 - Takes risks and doesn’t think before acting

5 - Has a hard time staying still

6 - Can’t be in one place for long

7 - Fidgets excessively

8 - talks a lot

9 - has hard time engaging in quiet activities

10 - Forgetfulness

11 - Has a hard time staying on tasks and often leaves works uncompleted.

(I’ve got symptoms 1, 2, 4 (the second part), 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, and 11.)

Also, as an added bonus, if you take medication for treatment, you also might experience symptoms of:

1 - insomnia

2 - decreased appetite

3 - stomachaches

4 - headaches

5 - jitteriness

6 - increased hyperactive behavior after the medication wears off.

Also just so you know a lot of people I know with ADHD get in trouble a lot for not paying attention so there’s that! (You don’t know HOW many times I’ve gotten detention for completely forgetting about homework, projects, or just not paying attention)

People with ADHD can also often be diagnosed with anxiety or depression, since dealing with it can be really stressful or make it feel too hard to deal with. (I’ve got anxiety, so I know exactly what this feels like, it’s difficult).

NOW, on to what I think Vio has!

I think Vio has ADHD, combined type, though the attention defecity shows more than the hyperactivity. The hyperactivity just doesn’t seem to match up with his character, as he doesn’t seem to get worked up that much at all. Sometimes when he’s stressed or under pressure, but even then not often. Still, he probably has combined type.

Also, the symptoms I’ve found he shows in the manga are as follows:

Inattention symptoms 1, 2, and 4. However, my personal headcanons also show him having symptoms 3, 6, and 7. I think he’d have a pretty good memory, but not a very sharp one, having a hard time remembering details like the order things happened or the time, but still having a good enough memory that he can rely on it when he needs to without much trouble. I also headcanon that time runs away from him often like me. Time flies with little to no prompting, as the saying goes. ^^

He also has impuslivity/hyperactivity symptoms 1, 3, and 8, though I also headcanon him to have symptoms 5, 6, and 7 as well. He’d probably have a hard time keeping himself from blurting out information, and as a coping mechanism he’s probably try to keep all his thoughts to himself, which explains why he doesn’t talk much to others in the manga. This isn’t a very good coping mechanism, by the way, keeping it all bottled up is just begging for disaster, and I should know.

As for treatment? He probably doesn’t know he has ADHD and just thinks everyone has the same problems he does and is just better at concealing them. When he finds out, either by research or being diagnosed by someone else, he’d probably be shocked.

“Wait, are you saying not everyone has trouble paying attention, staying focused, or sitting still, and even if they do it’s not even that bad? What?”

He’d also probably talk down to himself at some points after that because Vio I feel aims for perfection often, and having a mental disorder would be hard on him since it’s a sign he’s not perfect, which of course he isn’t duh.

After he finds out, he might take medication but mostly rely on therapy. Not an actual therapist, but talking to others about his problems would probably help him more than the medication and dealing with it on his own.

So, yeah! AND NOW, THE THING YOU’VE ALL PROBABLY BEEN TELLING ME TO LIST, HEADCANONS!

- Vio talks to Shadow and Blue the most about having ADHD, since they both might also have it and also they’re easy to talk to once you get to know them.

- He’s one of the types who goes into hyperfocus a noticeable amount. Not so often it’s a big problem, but you might see him at 2 AM furiously writing something down, and then at noon he’ll pass out from exhaustion because it turns out he wasn’t able to fall asleep because he suddenly Had To Do The Thing Right That Second And Couldn’t Stop.

- He’s also the type to get lost in space a lot thinking and you might mistake for sleeping if you can’t see his face. It’s not the same as hyperfocus, but it’s just as hard to get out of when I do it myself.

- He derails the conversation topic unintentionally and as a result tries not to start up conversations. By derailing the topic, I mean you’re talking about your favorite sweets and he’ll suddenly say something about the history of chocolate which will connect to the history of some other food he likes that suddenly turns into Did You Know Water Can Be A Torture Device and then suddenly you’re talking about different torture techniques that are really weird. Candy-->Torture that’s just how it goes sometimes.

- That One Kid Who People Don’t Know How To Talk To Because Their Interests Are Really Uncommon.

- He’s an... okay... notetaker, but try to read the notes and you’re ready to lose that game. His handwriting is terrible because he tries to write everything down before he forgets, which results in sloppiness.

- The medication side-effects he has are effects 1, 2, and 4, but mainly 1 because honestly it’s practically canon in this fandom that Vio has the hardest time sleeping out of the Links.

Most of these headcanons, actually, this entire post, might be me self-projecting but nevertheless I think Vio having ADHD really fits his character and I want to see more ADHD Vio stuff in this fandom because I really like the headcanon.

[madamslayyy]

Log Cabin and A Brewing Fire (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)

Pairing: Nebraska Williams (Trevante Rhodes) x Reader.

Warning: Suicide mention, Dark Themes, Depression Themes, Angst

A/N: Hey y’all, so I don’t know if y’all remember Trevante’s character in that dumbass Predator movie but he play Ex-Commanding officer Gaylord ‘Nebraska’ Williams. If you haven’t seen the movie I won’t spoil it for you but I took that character and his back story and kind of twisted it for the purpose of this story (ps there are no aliens or anything here, the events of the movie never happened, i just used his character and backstory). THIS IS SLOW BURN!!! I plan for it to have a couple more chapters, at least 3 more and maybe a little epilogue. Not gonna drag it out like my Untitled Series (lol remember that fossil 🤣🤣) but it’s gonna have some build up. Really sad themes in here so please be cautious. Also let me know what you guys think and if y’all would like to see more of it ! Anyway i hope y’all enjoy it🥰🥰🥰

Well today was the day. You were getting a roommate. A real roommate. But not by choice.

Your Uncle and last close relative you had left, was an army general, and his Lieutenant, his number two, the young man he’d always seen as something akin to a son... put a bullet in his brain.

It tore your Uncle apart. Your Aunt was barren and the two never looked into alternative methods to have a child.

By protocol, the Lieutenant was supposed to be dishonorably discharged from service but your uncle had managed to pull a few strings and get the boy a temporary leave of absence. And that’s where you came in.

Mental health was something you’d struggled with your whole life. Finally, on the verge of a mental breakdown, you left the city, opting to move into a cozy small cabin on the edge of a little New England town. You had a job at the local museum by day and that helped cover most of your bills, your Incle quietly taking care of the rest. You were happy here. And healthy. It finally put you in a place to heal without the expectations and constant showboating of modern society. You’d found your peace at last.

And your Uncle knew it. And he hoped it would do the same for his favorite soldier as well.

You’d been nervous at first, having never had an actual roommate before, let alone a suicidal, male ex-soldier with PTSD that could probably snap your neck like a twig given the slightest inclination. All concerns you’d brought to your Uncle who’d assured you “The kid wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless that fly was himself.”

So you’d trusted that. He was set to arrive today. You’d spent the entire weekend making sure your home was spotless and that his room would have everything a guest would possibly need. You knew how hard it was to bounce back from a dark place and environment was one of the greatest impacts.

At 13:00 sharp, your Uncle was pulling into your driveway, as punctual as ever. He exited the vehicle first, pulling you into a hug. You could see he’d aged considerably since the last time you saw him, his hair beginning to show small sprouts of grey on the sides.

“Uncle Raynard, long time now see,” you smiled. He and your Aunt lived nearly two states over so it was rare you’d go to visit, especially by yourself.

“Y/N, you’ve grown since the last time I saw you,” he chuckled, laughing as you rolled your eyes. You’d been the same short height since you were in middle school.

“Did you have a safe drive over?” You asked, watching as the other car door opened.

“Eh, we got a little rain once we hit the highwa-“ your uncles words began to fade into the background as you watched one of the finest men you’d ever laid eyes upon step out of the passengers side of the your uncles Cadillac.

Smooth, dark skin, full lips, incredible physic, thriving beard, and he was tall to top it all off. Your confusion was off the charts. This man looked like th poster child for Black Male self care and self love. For him to look like that and not want to live, you knew whatever was eating at him sure as hell couldn’t be skin deep.

“Ah, took you long enough. Y/N, I’d like to introduce you to Lieutenant Gaylord Williams, Williams this is my pride and joy, my niece Y/N.” The lieutenant dropped the suitcase he was holding in one hand and held it out to you, his other hand carrying an enormous duffle as if it was as light as a grocery bag.

“Most people just call me Nebraska,” he said shaking your hand. His voice matched his build and features perfectly: deep, sensual and sincere like his words were going straight through you.

“Ne-bras-ka,” you said in a bit of a daze as you shook his hand slowly. You could see the veins trailing up his arm.

“Thanks for uh... for having me,” he said with downcast eyes. You could see he was obviously a little uncomfortable with the whole thing.

“Of course, any thing for Uncle RayRay,” you said flashing a smile at your Uncle.

“Well I’d love to stay longer but the roads are supposed to ice over from that rain later tonight and I’m trying to get home before then. Anything you need before I take off?” Your Uncle said giving you one last hug.

“I’m think I’m good. Be careful on the roads. Gotta get back to Aunti Mae in one piece.”

“Course, nothing less.” He turned to Nebraska, “Anything you need before I go, Lieutenant Williams?”

“No sir,” he said raising his arm to salute your Uncle but Raynard pulled him into a hug instead.

“It’s gonna be alright, son. You’re gonna get through this.” He said to him, holding him tight. He tensed for a moment before hugging your uncle back. You smiled at the scene before you, seeing Black men openly support each other in cases such as these was a rarity. Mental health was a touchy subject to begin with and most opted to ignore it rather than combat it.

“You two be good and I’ll call when I make it back home,” and with that your Uncle drove off, leaving the two of you standing there awkwardly. You just realize how bitterly cold it was outside.

“Well you must be freezing, let’s get you inside,” you said holding the door open for him.

“Need any help with your bags?” He glanced over at you, purposely looking down as if to reference your short statue before continuing inside. Apparently he wasn’t much of a talker.

“So you’re room is going to be upstairs if you’ll follow me,” you led him to the room across the hall from your own. You’d been using it the last couple of months as sort of a green house where you grew all of your plants because it had an enormous window allowing for plenty of sunlight to stream through however you’d cleared them out and arranged them throughout the rest of your home so they’d still thrive outside of the room, only keeping a few in there that were especially sunlight dependent.

“Here we go. Need any help settling in?” He shook his head no looking around the room.

“Alrighty then. Anything I can get you? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea? Fresh-squeezed orang-“

“I’m good,” he said in a small voice. It almost sounded unnatural coming from him because his voice had such a deep timbre to it.

“Okay well I’ll let you settle in and come back to check on you later.” And with that you tiptoed out of the doorway

God he was so.... mysterious? Was that even a good word to use? It wasn’t really much of a mystery what he did, you knew and he knew you knew too, maybe that’s why it’s so awkward? Maybe he was just reserved? Shy? No, he’s in the army, they don’t get the luxury of being shy. Quiet? No they don’t get to be quiet either. Serious? Yes that’s it, he’s just a serious man and that’s what’s making everything so tense. Well that and the fact he put a bullet through his- okay no, nope we’re not gonna keep dwelling on that. He’s here now and he’s alive and that’s what matters. He’d probably rather forget that whole incident by now so you should go ahead and try to put it out of your mind as well.

Your mind was racing and you hadn’t even been paying attention to where you were going but had somehow ended up in the kitchen. You figured now was as great a time as any to start on a late lunch. But what should you cook for him? You couldn’t just make lunch for yourself, that’d be rude, especially on his first day. Maybe something Italian, everyone liked Pasta right? What if he didn’t eat meat? Or cheese? What if he was vegan? You knew some militants kept very strict diets and you’d hate to put him in such a compromising position. So you quickly decided to get to work and began cooking at once.

~*~

About an hour later you were almost done cooking when you realized you hadn’t heard a peep from Nebraska this entire time. The house was made of wood and would creak the second anyone put the slightest amount of weight on it, especially someone his size, yet you’d heard nothing.

You quickly ran upstairs, panic beginning to settle in as your thoughts took a turn for the worst. You swung the door open to see him on the bed fast asleep. He hadn’t changed clothes or even bothered to get under the covers. His bags were untouched in a neat corner of the room and he slept with his feet still firmly planted on the ground as if he had been sitting on the edge of the bed and simply laid back.

You didn’t mean to stare but this was the first time you got to actually appraise him without those intense brown orbs staring back into you. If you thought he was beautiful before at a glance then up close he was down right gorgeous. Even in his relaxed state, his arms rippled with veins, his swollen muscles making him look absolutely sculpted. You took note of his full lips, slightly parted in slumber. He was a silent sleeper, he didn’t snore or actually really move at all. It was almost as if he were.... dead.

The last thought seemed to bring you back to reality more as you remembered why you’d rushed up here in the first place. Now you were faced with the decision of waking him up from his nap or letting him sleep through to the evening.

You decided against the latter and moved towards him about to shake his shoulder when you paused. He was a military man, there was no telling what type of things he’d seen or reflexes he had. You decided to take a few steps back.

“Nebraskaaaa?” You cooed. He didn’t even twitch. You decided to grab one of the pillows off the bed and nudge him gently with that.

“Nebraskaaaa,” you cooed again, a little louder this time. His eyes fluttered open but he didn’t move. He simply stared at you, his eyes red from sleep.

“Heyyyyy....” you trailed off awkwardly, setting the pillow down, “lunch is um... lunch is ready.... if you’re hungry that is... or not.... either way it’s ready...”

“Yes ma’am,” he groaned, his voice thick from slumber. You could have fainted right there.

“Okay so I’ll see you down there then?” You realized how stupid that sounded the moment it left your mouth and mentally cringed. You couldn’t control your word vomit around him and that was presenting itself as a growing problem.

Luckily he didn’t seem to pay it any attention as he stood up, stopping at the doorway extending his arm in a swooping motion.

“Ladies first,” Okay maybe he was trying to kill you. Or maybe you were so accustomed to men having the manners of a bent spoon that you were just overthinking. Either way you had to get a grip on this or risk ruining all your best underwear.

“Thanks,” you said walking past him with your head down. Maybe if you ignore how fine he is, you’ll idle down until you’re used to it. That was going to be your plan. Just wait it out, eventually his looks won’t phase you. Or his voice. Or manners.

You made it downstairs and began to set the table. It took less than a minute because with only two people there wasn’t much to set. Nebraska stood staunchly at the doorway as if he were unsure what to do in this situation.

“You gonna sit down?” Wow that sounded rude. You couldn’t win for losing today, maybe it’d be best if you just didn’t say anything again ever.

He sat down without a word and you began sitting lunch on the table. Once everything was complete you stood proud of your creations.

“So I wasn’t sure if you had any dietary restrictions so I made Vegan Lasagna and Greek Salad hold the feta. Of course if you’d like feta I have that too, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstepping. I kn-

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said lowly causing you to falter in your rant.

“Oh... um..... I.... don’t mind. I cook for myself all the time anyway and there’s always extra so there’s really no change. Besides, I want you to feel at home here. And nothings says home like a home cooked meal.” You chuckled lightly. He said nothing. You were beginning to think maybe this stoic nature was his everyday personality and not just shyness.

The two of you ate in silence even though neither of you ate very much. You were to nervous to really eat and mostly picked at the food on your plate. He slowly ate his own portion, neither of you really putting a dent in anything.

When he finally finished, he rose from the table and headed towards the sink.

“Are you finished as well?” He asked reaching for your plate.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you said handing it to him. He eyed the near full plate of food before dumping it in the trash and washing all the dishes. You began putting away the leftovers. When there was nothing left to do, you both kind of stood there in a thick silence.

“Thank you.... for the meal. And your hospitality,” Nebraska nodded towards you, before heading back upstairs towards his room.

You decided to do a bit of reading since you had time to pass this Sunday evening so you curled up on one of the plush chairs in your living room and started reading a new book by one of your favorite authors. It wasn’t newly published of course but it was new to you because you’d never read it.

You weren’t sure if it was the snow trinkling outside the window next to you, the comfortable silence in the house, or the exhaustion from preparing for a new guest but you’d fell asleep within ten minutes of sitting down, your book long forgotten.

When you woke up, it had to be late at night, the window beside you pitch black and covered in snow. You noticed the blanket you kept in a little basket in the corner of the living room was now draped across you. You knew you hadn’t grabbed it before you fell asleep so the only culprit had to be your new mysterious roommate.

You felt your stomach flutter at the sweet gesture. You silently scolded yourself about getting use to this type of thing. As soon as he got himself together and was army ready, he’d be gone and you’d never see him again. There was no use getting attached now if he was just going to leave.

~*~

A/N: So let me know what y’all think! I really did feel like Trevante Character in Predator was the only one actually fleshed out plus he was the only one who wasn’t just telling jokes and screaming. As always I’m tagging my usual Trevante gang, I’m so sorry if I forgot anybody, let me know and I’ll add ya to the list (best way is to let me know on my Trevante taglist post because I always check there first.)

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @queen-of-the-jabari @queennanayaa @clydevevo @queennanayaa @chaneajoyyy @killmongerthiskoochie @theunsweetenedtruth @blackgirloneshots @blmforeal @erikkillmongerstan @jozigrrl @quietstorm-73 @sailorsenshi420 @wakandamama @mxearth h @chefjessypooh @macfizzle @chasingsunlight @dameshaemonique @rubiesandravens @raysunshine78 @melaninmarvel l @melanisticroyalty @softnani @vibranium-soul @itstaliaduh @cinki-the-black-goddess @thehomierobbstark @darkangelchronicles @bartierbakarimobisson @doublesidedscoobysnacks @blackpinup22 @tchokemedaddy @clydevevo @amirra88 @labelletemps @wawakanda-btch