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thebestofoneshots · 11 months

Note

If you could say any song reminds you of Gilded Constellations… what would it be?

As a reader, I can’t put one on the whole thing so far, but Sirius reminds me of Guys Don’t Like Me (by It Boys!) and I can’t put one on Y/N yet… (Remus radiates Conan Grey energy tbh) -🫎

Read Gilded Constellations Here

AAAAAAH THIS IS SOOOO HARD! I literally have a miles long note on my phone with hundreds (kid you not) of songs for the chapters titles. Most of them are 60s to early 80s (because I’m a perfectionist and I want the songs so only be songs our boys would have listen to to), having said that. I’ve got a few modern songs, that I feel also fit the theme… heat me out:

Gilded Constellations is Cherry Wine by Hozier and Las Palabras de Amor by Queen

Don't touch me now Don't hold me now Don't break the spell, darling Now you are near Look in my eyes and speak to me The special promises I long to hear Las palabras de amor Let me hear the words of love Despacito, mi amor Love me slow and gently One foolish world, so many souls Senselessly hurled through The never ending cold And all for fear and all for greed Speak any tongue But for God's sake we need Las palabras de amor

Her eyes and words are so icy Oh but she burns Like rum on the fire Hot and fast and angry as she can be I walk my days on a wire It looks ugly, but it's clean Oh momma, don't fuss over me … Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing And it's worth it, it's divine I have this some of the time The way she shows me I'm hers yours and she is mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The bIood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

Sirius is Too Much Love Will KiII You by Queen

Too much love will kilI you If you can't make up your mind Torn between the lover and the love you leave behind You're headed for disaster 'cause you never read the signs Too much love will kiIl you every time Mmm, how would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose No, there's no making sense of it Every way I go I'm bound to lose Oh-oh, yeah Too much love will kiII you Just as sure as none at all It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kiIl you every time

Reader is Vega by Ed Sheeran

This week was heavy, I buckled under all the weight What can you do but pray? And count your blessings, it wasn't any other way Don't leave it up to fate … Clouds keep forming over this house, blocking out the sun I'm tryna keep it all together One door closes then one opens, gotta keep the focus If we'll believe, then she'll get better The days are long, but they pass within an instant, babe It is the strangest thing I'll count my blessings the day I see you smile again This war we've got to win Keep it inside, don't let no one see your heart No one can judge, we're the same in the dark Fighting the tide, but the waves, they will part Light up the night, we were made to be stars But it burns like hell to be Vega

Remus is Demons by Imagine Dragons (but also like 100 other songs Remus is all the songs)

When the days are cold And the cards all fold And the saints we see are all made of gold (Sirius) When your dreams all fail And the ones we hail Are the worst of all, and the bIood's run stale I wanna hide the truth I wanna shelter you But with the beast inside There's nowhere we can hide No matter what we breed We still are made of greed This is my kingdom come This is my kingdom come When you feel my heat, look into my eyes It's where my demons hide It's where my demons hide Don't get too close, it's dark inside It's where my demons hide It's where my demons hide At the curtain's call It's the last of all When the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl So they dug your grave And the masquerade Will come calling out at the mess you've made

And lastly, Chapter 20: Bad Moon Rising is Frozen Pines and The World Ender by Lord Huron

Deep into the night With the moonlight as my guide I go wander through the pines And make my way to nature's shrine

You'll hear me howl by the light of the moon That's how you'll know that I'm coming for you Gonna find you alone in the dark of night When the World Ender comes better run for your life

Read Gilded Constellations Here

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sevendeadlymorons · 4 years

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what if we just- make levi cockwarm a m!mc/reader 😳😳😳

This is gonna be an experience

Levi Cockwarms M!MC

WARNING: NSFW // Smut

—————————————————

Just an average anime sesh with Levi. You do it every week and it’s become sort of just a routine now. You go to his room, you vote on an anime, you watch said anime and you either go back to your room or stay and chill late into the night with him. Same old, same old. But after the first few times, it gets pretty repetitive, and the urge you have to get sensual with Levi fails every time as you brushes you off and continues to watch the show. Tonight’s gonna be a bit different though. He won’t know what hit him...

It was about 45 minutes into the sesh and Levi was well engaged into the show that you could wave your hand in front of him and he probably wouldn’t notice. You sighed as the anime felt like it was droning out and away, leaving just you and your thoughts as you fell back, your head hitting the pillow fort he had built earlier. You sat back up, huffing, and crawling up behind Levi, placing your legs either side of him as you lay your cheek on his back, slowly rubbing your face into him so he’d give you just a bit of attention. As figured, he didn’t notice, so you stayed there, your crotch pressed to his ass in a moderately awkward position. You sighed and dropped your forehead right in between his shoulder blades, making him jump in surprise, like he’s just been pulled back into reality.

“What the hell are you doing back there?” He asked, sounding rather pissed that you disturbed his focus by repetitively slamming your forehead into his back.

“Nothin. Just bored” You replied back innocent, going back to rubbing your cheek into his shoulder.

“Bored??!” He couldn’t understand how you could possibly be bored by this. He turned his body to catch your face, stopping you from hitting his back again, until he felt himself go slightly red when he realised how he was cupping your cheek so your lips were slightly puckered on the cutest way. He coughed awkwardly and turned back to the show, depriving you of your attention once again.

You groaned and moaned his name, wrapping your arms around his waist and rocking him to get his attention, but he was back in his focus again and you were long gone. You felt like screaming in his ear. Or getting up and leaving. But you wouldn’t. You loved the time you spent with Levi, even if he didn’t notice you even being there 80% of the time.

You sighed loudly again, until it sounded overly dramatic and went back to rubbing your face into his back, feeling the warmth of his body reflect onto yours. He was surprisingly warm, which gave you an idea. He wants to ignore you, let’s see him try and ignore you now... A mischievous smirk crept onto your face, and weirdly, Levi sensed that as he lost his focus once again and instinctively turned to you, studying that look on your face. He has this look in his eye that screamed ‘I don’t like where this is going’ and began to slowly shift away from you.

“Oh Leviiii~?” You sung playfully, a look of dread or annoyance on his face as he sighed and shifted himself around to face you.

“What?” He asked, raising his eyebrow, and leaning back on his elbows. You crept forward on all fours as he was leant back, placing your palms either side of him as you smiled in his face, watching his eyes worrisomely shift to the side at how close to his face you were.

“Warm me up?” You say innocently, pouting your lower lip and giving him your best puppy eyes. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“That’s it? If you were cold, you could’ve just said that y’know...” His eyes seemed to warm up and become less cold as he nervously leans forward to pull you into a hug, a little smile on his face as he does. But when you push him away and shake your head, he looks at you dead confused. You chuckle and lean forward again so he can feel your breath on his ear, whispering low as his eyes seemed to bulge out of his sockets.

“Cockwarm me, Levi?” He practically chokes on air as he stares at you in disbelief. Did he hear you right??! You seductively look him in the eye and lean towards his face, lips parted as he squeezes his eyes shut, ready for you to kiss him. He feels you climb on top of him as soon as your lips meet his, the taste of your tongue delicious inside of his mouth as he sloppily joins in. He’s honestly internally panicking. Where did this come from? Is he doing this right? What is he even doing? A swarm of emotions and thoughts envelop him as you continue to kiss him faster.

You stop and get off of him, obviously waiting for his answer. “Please, Levi?” You once again flash him those convincing puppy eyes and he turns redder than he ever has before. He looks down, avoiding your gaze as he mumbles a small ‘fine’ under his breath. That same mischievous smile returning on your lips as you unbutton your jeans and tug them down, revealing your erect cock sat in your boxers. Levi couldn’t help but look up and gawk at your length, imagining what it would be like to have you fuck him.

He got so caught up in his imagination that he didn’t hear you calling his name, looking over at you quickly to see you patting your lap, inviting him to sit on you. He blushed and rubbed his neck, slowly taking down his joggers, his hard on very clearly visible to you. He kept his eyes glued to the floor until he feels a single finger lift up his chin so he’s staring straight at you. You give him a delicate peck on the lips and smile at him. “Ready?” You see him nod, his eyes filled with lust and a tinge of excitement.

You slip down his boxers, his hard on completely on show for you to see while you guide him onto your lap, your cock rubbing against his ass as he sits down. You slowly slip a finger inside of him and he jolts up in surprise, biting down on his lip to stifle the moan that was threatening to escape. You gradually slip 2, then 3 inside of him as you hear his composure crumbling as strings of moans let slip from his mouth and he’s thoroughly digging his nails into your thighs. You stretch him nicely as you begin to feel like he’s ready to enter.

You stroke his face as you position yourself over his hole, hearing him take a deep breath. You slowly lower him onto you, the tightness pretty sudden as you yourself let a few moans slip loose. When he finally takes your length whole, you feel a warmth, your cock warming up from the heat of his insides. You wiggle yourself inside of him and he gasps, grabbing onto your thighs for support.

“You’re missing the anime...” You tease him, nibbling on his ear, and turning his head towards the TV. You watch him attempt to focus but he just can’t stop himself from grinding on your dick, making you give his thighs a sharp squeeze to punish him. He yelps and stops, turning his focus to the screen again.

A few minutes pass and he seems to have gradually regained his focus on the anime, even slightly leaning back onto you as if you were a chair. You rest your hands on his thighs and you feel him tense up but stops after a few seconds and let’s you continue. You sigh slowly. You want him to have a constant reminder that you’re inside of him, warming up your cock. So you shift yourself a little, moving your member inside of him, hitting a sweet spot and causing him to gasp and let out a sudden moan. He whimpers in defeat as he reaches to tug at your hair, once again reminded that he is your cockwarmer.

You give him a small litter of kisses on his neck, listening to him whine and moan on top of you as you make yourself comfy. He looks at you, begging you with his eyes for you to just fuck him already, to which you let out a small laugh in response and give his dick a few rubs, watching his face be filled with relief before stopping again and watching his face fall, then returning your hand to his thigh.

Just wait a little longer, my dear Levi, your cock is still warming up...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #obey me smut #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #m!mc

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sxfik · 3 years

Text

han seo headcanons (part 4)

writing this is cathartic tbh. of course, i always write on the days i have an exam to prep for (aka my lit exam tmrw thats technically today)!! we make good life decisions here at clown nation <3

< prev

read on ao3

tw: mentions of abuse

the first time they competed, vincenzo was away on his buisness trip to italy. he had some loose ends to tie up after his little contract and getting paulo off the helm of the mafia.

which meant that jipuragi was particularly empty without the italian-korean's presence. no one to give han seo a pat on his back. no one to look over cha-young's shoulder.

they all felt it hard, as if the firm had a huge hole where vincenzo is supposed to be

han seo felt himself looking at his desk every single time he passed by it. the first day was more jarring than the rest, he had gotten used to vincenzo's presence in his life.

it was a particularly late friday night at jipuragi. han seo lugged into the firm a gigantic stack of contracts and internal documents about babel so the laywers and him can go through each one. cha-young had to carry both her and vincenzo's load for that week with vincenzo in italy.

they were stressed and tired and had a million paper cuts from sorting through each pile of documents. all three of them were working quietly, the silence comfortable, save for the sounds of russling paper and pens scratching across notepads

"alright, i'm off for the night. i have a airplane competition tomorrow morning and i need jason to fly far for me so i can finally win that 500 dollar prize. goodnight byeonosanim, mr. jang" the paralegal said as he put on his satchel and took out his cycle. he waved his goodbyes as the he left, leaving han seo and cha-young in the office by themselves.

they had only known each other for two weeks, really. han seo always met his hyung vincenzo over drinks or over at his house. he only ever saw the pretty lawyer from a distance, usually when taking note of how his hyung vincenzo dotes over her just so he can tease him about her

and use her to distract his hyung

it always works

cha-young didn't know much about the young ceo, despite meeting him a couple times from her time at wusang. part of her never wanted to trust him, even though he had proven himself and his loyalty to vincenzo, because in the world she lived in, everyone could betray the other at any time

but his presence in the office was comforting to her. he had come in, dressed like an 80s disco star and all asking if he could join the team, and somehow, he stuck with her.

something in her wanted to trust him. he seemed unassuming and loyal to the core, especially to vincenzo. the way he always walked into the firm grinning, visiting the plaza residents. he had an energy about him that reminded him of a younger sibling she's always wanted

but she was burned once with prosecutor jung and she's learned her lesson so it was time for the ultimate test

"are you hungry?" she asked, shuffling through her papers one last time before standing up, and putting the stacks back into their file system

han seo was startled for a second, his head buried deep with in the papers, the words almost swimming together with the amount of times he had to look through these contracts

for a second, he thought she was speaking to vincenzo, not himself before he remembered that vincenzo wasn't here this week

"Oh yes, byeonosanim. Would you like to order something or..?" he'd replied as he stood up from his seat, giving his legs a strech. he had forgotten just how tired he was until she asked him, his body feeling the effects of running the company and being at jipuragi

"Yeah, we can. I have the perfect restaurant to get some food from! they're always open late too so it's really convenient" she quipped back, her back facing him as she started putting all the contracts back into place and started pulling out new ones to look over

he followed suit, clearing up the table he was working on and moving to the paralegal’s desk.

even though his work was often hard for him to understand, the legal and formal language needing multiple reads, he felt refreshed each time he came to the plaza

he'd established a daily routine here, going to check on the hee-soo at the snack bar, visiting the pawnshop

he's quite good with his hands. he'd always known he had a knack for taking things apart and fixing them, which especially helped at the pawnshop when college students and older families would come by with broken tablets and gadgets.

even though he was rich, barely anything was spent on him when his dad was alive. every single new outfit or toy always went to han-seok, where as he was stuck with the ragged hand me downs, and old toys.

so when he had gotten his first phone, and broken the keypad, (because han seok threw it across the room when he got angry that he had the same model as his illegitimate brother) he understood it was up to him to figure it out.

he was always good at taking things apart, from all his toy cars to majority of the gadgets and clocks he had in his house.

(there was a day, when he was younger, that he took apart han seok's toy car. the next school day he walked around with gloves, trying to forget about how his cuts hurt as he curled his fingers around a pencil)

taking things apart and then putting them back together the same way was somehow natural to him. but of course, none of that mattered since he couldn't score well enough on his exams to get past the courses he needed to into engineering. plus, he could imagine the sneer on his father's face if he told him what path he was considering...

for most of his life, he'd felt useless compared to his brother. he was never the quick-witted boy at school, failing his english courses and having to go to cram schools and tutoring sessions just to pass by.

he hated going to school everyday, having the teachers shame him for not being as smart as his brother, not being as charismatic or as smooth talking

the exam days were always the worst. looking at the exam sheet, his palms sweaty and his throat tight as he looked at the questions

the doubt was overwhelming. the pressure made him sweat and freeze up even though he knew the problems.

the kids at his schools always seemed to prefer han seok, for some weird reason, when to him he's always been the menace in his life.

han seok was the one to head the company. the one he can't measure up to in front of his father. the one to push the family forward. every bit of praise, every second of attention, it all went to han seok.

han seo was the mistake. the one who always fucked it up. the one who seemed to mess up his brother's plans.

his brother seemed to take it upon himself to remind him that he wasn't meant to be alive. and their father, believing it to be good for han seo, would force him to be tutored by han seok every day.

his brother had a field day with it, finding the most creative ways to abuse and torture him

of course, he's not allowed to say a word about it.

at first, working at jipuragi was anxiety inducing, sweat drenching his shirt each time he brought a document he thought useful to vincenzo, his throat closing up imagining the consequences of fucking up

he knew deep down, that vincenzo wasn't like his brother, he will not hurt him, he will not kill him

but the anxiety and panic are second nature to him

his eyes were glued to his shoes after he handed it over to vincenzo.

vincenzo paused, looking over the document with scrutiny. and his body was automatically bracing for a slap, a punch. at the very least a snide remark or a sneer.

instead he looked up at han seo, nodding, and told him "this is very useful. thank you."

thank you.

thank you. he blinked.

the words echoed in his head as he replayed them back over and over. thank you. in all his years working, no one had said thank you. no words of appreciation were ever dealt for doing his job. for doing something right.

unable to think of a reply, he walked back to his desk and sat down, the shock overwhelming him before he got his mind working again

although it took him double the time to go through the contracts than it did vincenzo or cha-young, he was never berated. there was never a comment about how slow he was, how he wasn't cut out for this, only appriciative glances and words when he did well

and when he didn't, they corrected him, gently. never maliciously, never taunting, always gentle.

and for the first time, he could breathe

the time passed by quickly as they both continued working in silence, han seo finishing up half a stack before the doorbell rang.

"i'll get it! ceo jang, can you set the table up?" cha-young looked toward as she went to grab the food from the delivery man

"yes, byeonosanim" he replied as he went to grab some disposable plates and wooden chopsticks from the cabinet

he set everything out just in time for the lawyer to set the food down. he squinted at the bowls she pulled out, the bright red liquid a stark contrast to the white containers.

"uh, byeonosanim, what is that?"

"hm? oh it's fire noodles. you don't mind spice do you, han seo?" she quirked her eyebrow at him, her voice sickly sweet

and he grinned at her and that was enough of an answer: it was showdown time.

so there he was, sitting across from cha-young, the container of red chili oil central to both of them. both of their suit coats were off, lest they start literally heating up.

oh, and if either of them reach for their water: they're out.

for about 10 seconds, they stared at each other, trying to psych each other out, before his phone timer counted down.

....3, 2, 1 and they were off!

both of them grabbed their chopsticks and spoons and ate two large bites and drank the broth before angling for one spoon full of chili oil into their noodles.

and on they went in this cycle, eating a bite and drinking broth, and pouring chili oil in after each cycle.

3 pours in, and they were still doing good, neither of them showing any signs of redness

6 pours in and his tongue was swollen, her eyes watery, their broth bright red

7 pours in and .... was it just him or was the room getting hotter?

8 and you could see the sweat dripping the lawyer's forehead, the sniffles of the lawyer getting louder and louder. meanwhile he was panting, trying to increase the circulation into his mouth

9 and their arms meet across the table, inches from the chili oil. their eyes lock, their faces bright red and the pain of his tongue unbearable

his eyes are squinted (from his eyes burning or from concentration, we'll never know) and the lawyer is making faces, trying to get him to give in

"it'll" *huff* "be easier" *huff* "if you give in now" *huff*

he laughed back, in response. "and let you win? no way. I'M getting that paper crown"

their eyes both glance at the flimsy, blue paper crown set upon it's carrier, a stack of contracts

she scoffed back (and almost choked) "absolutely not"

they stare each other down as they pour more in and go for another round

they swallow and in that second, cha-young made a fatal mistake

she breathed in the fumes. and coughed. and grabbed the water before she could think about it.

"AHAHA I WIN!!" he yelled out, the chair flying back as he jumped up, the layer of sweat easing up when he grabbed the bottle of water and chugged the whole thing down

the lawyer on the other hand, was slumped in the seat, taking the opportunity to also chug the water.

for around 10 seconds all they did was pant, getting their bodies back into a normal pace before cha-young spoke up

"fine i guess you win, have a great night!" she jabbered out quickly but he knew what she was trying to do

"nuh uh, nope, you're not getting out of this. we agreed! loser has to crown the winner." he grinned at her, his eyes completely closed as his happiness shone through

sighing, the lawyer grabbed the crown from it's holy pedastal and stomped over.

"tun ta da da !!! all hail king han seo, destroyer of spice, the unyielding one" she sang out, her voice deeper as traces of laughter tinted her voice

she placed the crown upon his name and bowed, "may he reign forever" and looked up and shot him a wink "at least, until i win next time"

he struck a superman pose, and puffed his chest out, before both of them crumbled into laughter, cha-young dramatic one ringing above his cackling

"we should do this again please, noona!" he wheezed out, his stomach hurting from laughter.

but it was only his ringing out, as hers cut out sharply.

"noona?"

he paused as his head whipped around to the lawyer, her head tilted as she looked at him

did i say that? i swear i called her byeonosanim... and he replayed the moment.

fuck.

"ah, i'm so sorry hong cha young byeonosanim, i overstepped, i apologize," he bowed in apology to her.

"do you call vincenzo byeonosanim hyung?"

"huh?" he looked up at her in confusion, "uh, yeah i do call him hyung. why?"

"you can call me noona then." she quipped back and for a second, he stared at her. wait what?

she clapped his back, and he choked on his spit, the clap knocking the air out of him "relax. you passed the test han-seo. i've always wanted a younger brother, you know? you can call me noona. as long as you remember your manners, that is," shooting him a wink

he glanced at her, before breaking out into the biggest grin, his gums peaking out.

"okay... cha-young noona!" he giggled, as they took their seats.

she grinned back, settling in.

"ah, you know noona, he said the same thing as you"

"huh?" she squinted back

"vin hyung! he said the same 'you better mind your manners'" han seo laughed as he mocked the korean-italian mafia's voice

"you know, that impression is spot on!" she laughed as he continued the voice, adding in the classic hand gestures, until both of them broke into laughter.

for some reason, both of them were instantly comfortable with one another.

for han seo, laughing with cha-young, trading insults and teasing felt warm, it felt like he'd found a best friend (a best friend who once upon a time he almost maimed by sending thugs after her, but she swore to him that all is forgiven) they had similar humor, similar tastes, similar personalities

for cha-young, he felt like a partner in crime. not like the way vincenzo her partner in life in crime, but in the way that they were both pranksters, both with similar personalities and bright humor

it felt like finding a sibling, a person to commit crimes with, a person to clown together with

"you know, noona, is vin hyung..." he paused mid-sentence, contemplating if he could ask this.

"go on, han seo" cha-young encouraged him, one hand bringing the bottle of water to her mouth

"is he your boyfriend?" he rushed out the words and—

he was sprayed in the face.

cha-young was sputtering as the water dripped off his face, and his eyes shut as he wiped off the excess

"yah, why would you even ask that?" she scoffed out refusing to meet his eyes, but he could see the red tint creeping up on her neck and her cheeks

he shot her a look.

"yeah, yeah okay. he and i are... partners"

"oh." he quipped back, a sinister smile slowly spreading across his face

"no, no, no" she shook her at him, "i do not have a crush on him"

he raised an eyebrow back "who said anything about a crush hm, noona?"

she froze and he knew he'd have next weeks entertainment sorted

"you know maybe i'll take back that younger brother thing if this is how it's like" she taunted, but he didn't feel any hurt. instead her teasing just made his heart soar, her teasing somehow a comfort

"oh, we're just getting started!" he quipped back, as they cleaned up for the night, continuing their conversation as they restored the firm back to order.

"i've noticed you going to the pawnshop a lot recently" she noted, as she grabbed a stack of contracts to put back into the filing cabinet

"ahh, yeah i've been helping them out. they're having a baby you know and it must be hard on both of them to run the shop" he responded as he stacked another set of contracts together, clearing Mr. Nam's desk

"you should do it."

"what?"

"study electronics. or at least continue working for the pawnshop."

he stared at her.

how did she know? for someone so bright and busy he didn't expect her to be so observant to him.

"oh please, like it's hard to notice. i've seen the way you always seem to be happier as you pass by the pawnshop. when i popped in during lunch, i saw you, hunched over the tablet. it's the happiest i've seen you look."

"oh." he grew quiet "it's a little too late, don't you think noona? for me to even consider that? i'd be a little foolish to follow that"

she sighed and turned to him, grabbing the stack from his arms. "let me tell you a story han seo. i'm 34 years old and a lawyer and don't get me wrong, i love doing this. but when i was little my dream was always to sing. but for years, i pushed it back, thinking i could never do it."

she stuffed the papers to the back corner, somehow managing to stuff it in and turned back to him.

"so, noona? did you do it?"

"patience. a couple weeks after my final exam for law school, i said why the hell not. and now i've been taking lessons one and off for years!"

"you should give a demo!! sing for us"

"oh, please i couldn't possibly do it" she tucked her hair back, looking bashful.

"ple-" he barely got the words out.

"oh of course, if you insist!" she grabbed the empty water bottle and climbed on her stool, the makeshift stage for the night

"noona! noona!!" han seo cheered her on as she stood up. she cleared her throat, moving her head to the side and warming up

and she opened her mouth.

and sang.

if you could call that singing.

what came out was more of a series of tone-deaf screeches, making him wince but mask his face with a smile, trying to solider through the pain.

he clapped as SOON as she finished the last note, his ears grateful for the break. she took a flourished bow as she jumped off the stool

"how was it?"

"noona, that was amazing!" he lied, trying his best to stop the ringing in his ears.

she smacked him with her water bottle "yah! you liar! i'm god awful" she made one of her classic faces.

"you know??? and you made me endure that???" he touched his ears. he expected to see blood but luckily the damage wasn't too bad

"YAH!" she smacked him again. "you brat, the point isn't that i'm good or not."

"then what is?" his eyebrows furrowed as he looked in confusion.

if you're not good at it then what really is the point? why should i keep trying?

"the point is that i'm happy. it doesn't matter how good you are at something for you to consider it an interest, as long as it makes you happy."

he paused. no one had ever said that before. to do what makes him happy. not what made his father or his brother happy. everyone's advice all his life was to stick to what you're good at and that there isn't a point in trying if you aren't good from the beginning.

"look i'm terrible at singing. but i know that if i had never pursued it, i would have grown old and regretted it. so what if i am bad! at least i got to do it while i'm alive! give electronics a shot, han seo."

han seo bit his lip slightly. and he nodded.

he was going to give it a shot.

"good! now lets get this cleaned up and go home!" she sashayed off to her desk, grabbing the last of her stuff before they left the firm.

the next week, when vincenzo was back from italy, he had expected to find the firm just like he left it. what he didn't expect was his girlfriend wife partner and brother han seo, one sprawled on the couch and the other on the floor, piles of blankets and what looked like a mic and SEVERAL bottles of sujo scattered across the table.

they were both in matching pajama sets, and snoring very loudly. he shuffled over to his desk where a note that looked like it was written in crayon was left

and it said

"dear vin hyung: noona and i were having a sleepover last night. i made sure she was extra safe and did not do anything overly amitious (like call you in the middle of the night to ask you if you had to leave) if you are seeing the mess that we probably made, please excuse it. i will clean it up as soon as i can. grazie!

p.s. you should ask noona out sometime, i have it in good word that she might be interested ;)

to be continued...

a/n: let this be a fic reminding you that if you are passionate about something, pursue it! our world conditions us to believe that you have to be good at something in order to be able to do it but that's absolute bs. please give your younger and future selves a chance by taking up something you've always wanted to do <3

#mine #vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #chayenzo #hong cha young #song joong ki #tvn vincenzo #jeon yeo been #vincenzo x cha young #han seo supramacy #jang han seo #canon divergence #kwak dong yeon #jang han seok #ok taecyeon

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alt-rose · 4 years

Text

21 - colson baker

colson baker imagine

21 - Pete Davidson takes you out to celebrate your 21st birthday after SNL, and you make a new friend.

“this week a midwestern teenager was arrested for kidnapping livestock and hiding them in their neighbor’s garages. here to comment is our resident young person, (y/n) (y/l/n).”

you took a quick breath before you were pushed toward the weekend update desk. you rolled to a stop next to your castmate Michael Che before you dove into your bit with him about cows and the midwestern community.

you made your SNL debut last season when you were only nineteen. you quickly took over Pete Davidson’s former role as the “resident young person” among the cast, and you had formed a fast friendship with him over the last year and a half. he had been eager to take you out with his friends so that you could experience the true nightlife that New York could offer, and now that you were finally turning 21, he could do just that.

after you exited the stage from your weekend update skit, Pete caught you in the hallway as you headed back to your dressing room to get ready for your last skit.

“hey, next weekend,” Pete started catching your attention. “do you want to go out and celebrate your birthday? Maybe get shitfaced?”

“I don’t know. who’s gonna be there? I don’t really want to feel obligated to entertain people while you’re getting me drunk,” you said apprehensively.

“don’t worry. it’ll be a bunch of people you don’t know so you don’t have to worry about anything other than getting drunk. I’ll keep an eye on you, of course. keep you away from the creepos.”

“how thoughtful,” you say throwing yourself into one of the hair and make-up chairs. “but sure, it sounds fun.”

“great. I’ll get the party lined up for next Saturday after the show.”

you threw him a thumbs up before your attention was directed toward the make-up artist giving you an 80s look for your next skit.

“this week our very own (y/n) (y/l/n) turned 21. here to comment on finally becoming an adult is our resident young person, (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“hey Colin,” you call back to him when you roll up next to Colin Jost at the weekend update desk.

SNL did a similar skit when Pete turned 21 so the writers felt it was only right to do one for you.

“hey (y/n), how does it feel to finally be 21?” he asked tapping his pen on his desk.

“it feels great Colin. you know, it’s a bit of an adjustment, but I’m having a great time.”

“right, you’re finally legal now. you can do adult things.”

“yeah, now I can buy tropical fish at Randy’s Pet Shop by my apartment building. I have a fish named Chet now. he’s pretty cool.”

“wait, you have to be 21 to buy fish from Randy’s Pet Shop?”

“yeah, Randy’s got this weird thing,” you paused to make eye contact with Colin. “anyway, besides that, I don’t really feel like much of an adult, Colin. I’m like five-foot-something and still resemble a fourth grader. like look at me, Colin. I was given a kid’s menu at TGI F.R.I.D.A.Y.’S last week. I am not an adult.”

Colin laughed before looking at you. “(y/n), you really don’t think that you’ve grown in this past year? you haven’t felt like an adult in anyway?”

“no.”

“well, I think you have. you stopped ordering chicken fingers at every restaurant we go to for cast dinners. I think that’s a big step into adulthood.”

“yeah, well, joke’s on you because I have a bag of dino nuggies hidden in the back of the breakroom fridge.”

“what?”

“yeah, I just take a few out and wrapping them in tinfoil and heat them up in the microwave for four minutes-”

“wait, hold on, hold on,” Colin laughed waving his hand to stop you. “you put the nuggets in tinfoil before you put them in the microwave?”

“yeah, you just wrap them up in the tinfoil, and they cook really well. they get all sparky and stuff. they taste a little smokey though”

“you’re the reason why the breakroom microwave is always broken?”

“what?”

“(y/n), you’re not supposed to put tinfoil in the microwave,” Michael chimes in.

“you can’t put metal in the microwave. did you not know that?” Colin asked.

“what?” you put on the confused act.

“(y/n) (y/l/n), everybody,” Colin shouts turning to the audience and ending your segment on the update.

“who let me be an adult?” you laugh shouting to audience as Colin pulls you into a side hug. the crowd cheers as you wave to them.

“for weekend update, I’m Colin Jost.”

“And I’m Michael Che. GOODNIGHT.”

you continue to smile and laugh with both of the guys as the camera panned away from the stage and the recording light turned off. when you made it off stage, you started to head back to your dressing room. you had finished your last sketch of the night, so you planned on getting ready for your night out with Pete and whoever else he invited.

an hour later, you were crammed in the backseat of an uber next to Pete.

“where are we going?” you asked him as you check the battery on your phone.

“this club a few minutes away. it’s pretty lowkey. everyone’s going to meet us there.”

“okay, sounds good-”

“it’s actually right here,” he interrupts stopping the driver. “thanks, man.”

Pete opened the door of the car and climbed out. his lanky form towered over the small sedan. he leaned down to help you scoot over to open door. you took his hand as you scooted over to the door before sliding out of the car as best as you could in your mini skirt.

after both of your feet successfully hit the pavement, you adjusted your black leather mini skirt from riding up before you fixed you black turtleneck to make sure that it was still tucked into your skirt.

“ready?”

“yeah, let’s go.”

after making it past the bouncer, Pete led you over to the bar before dropping you off at a bar stool. you watched as he made his rounds saying hi to everyone. it was almost 1 am now. you began to wonder how late you were going to be out tonight.

you suddenly felt two hands on your shoulders causing you to slightly jump.

“you ready for your birthday drink?” Pete shouted in your ear.

“yeah, let’s do it,” you laugh turning to look at him.

“can we get four shots of Fireball?” he shouted to the bartender.

“four?” you shout over your shoulder at him. “I though you weren’t drinking.”

“I’m not. you are. you’re downing all of those.”

“oh god.”

he slapped his hands on your shoulders once more. “you got this, baby.”

the bartender placed the shots in front of you as Pete opened a tab.

“we doing this?” you asked staring at the shots.

“let’s do it.”

you grab your first shot before raising it as a cheers to him. you brought it to your lips and downed it. you felt it burn as it slid down your throat. you squeezed your eyes shut as you finished it.

“that was strong,” you cough.

“next one.”

you down the second one, and then the third one shortly followed. the cinnamon flavor left a burning sensation in your throat.

“last one, last one.” Pete shook your shoulders cheering you on.

“fuck this.” you downed the last one.

an hour into your party, it was clear to you that you were feeling very drunk. you had spent the last hour dancing with strangers on the dance floor before slipping back to the VIP section Pete had for you and some of the people at the party. after your first couple shots, he had introduced you to a few people, but at this point, you can’t remember your own name so how could you be expected to remember theirs.

you’re currently sipping on a tequila sunrise now that Pete decided that you handled enough straight liquor. you were slightly leaning on Pete as he stood next to you while you were sitting on one of the barstools for the high tabletops.

“yoooo,” you heard someone call as they approached your table. “dude, whassup.”

Pete leaned over to bro-hug someone before that person began to lean on your table next to Pete. you could hear their muffled conversation as you played with the straw in your drink.

“so what’s this party for anyway?”

“it’s a birthday party,” Pete yelled over the music.

“who’s birthday?”

“hers,” Pete said motioning to you causing you to look up at Pete and his friend. “this is my castmate, (y/n). she just turned 21 so we’re celebrating.”

your eyes met the stranger’s, and you smiled. he was pretty with his bleached-out hair. you gave him a small wave.

“I’m Colson,” he said extending his hand to yours.

“(y/n),” you said taking his hand.

“can I buy a drink for the birthday girl?” he asked flashing you a smile.

“sure,” you said before taking the last sip of your tequila sunrise.

when he brought you back a drink, you stood over your shoulder placing the drink in front of you.

“let’s fucking party.”

“okay,” you shouted before knocking back the drink and taking his hand to lead you to the dance floor.

you spent the rest of the night with a set of hands planted firmly around your waist. when you had finally had enough of drinking and dancing, you made your way back over to the VIP section with your six-foot shadow following behind you with his hands still on your hips.

“I’m tired,” you say to Pete as you approach your seat the table. your shadow rested against your back as you hopped up onto the barstool.

“do you want to head home?” Pete asked leaning close to you and your shadow, Colson.

“kinda,” you said leaning your head back on Colson. your drunken state couldn’t careless that you were practically laying against a total stranger.

“do you even have a place to stay tonight?” Pete asked Colson as he looked up from you to the tall guy behind you.

“not really. I could just get a hotel,” you could hear Colson tell Pete.

“you guys can just crash at my apartment. I have a couch and a guest bedroom,” you interrupt as you stare off into space.

“are you sure?” Pete asked.

“yeah, let’s just go home.”

“cool with you?” Pete asked Colson.

“I’m cool,” Colson answered.

10 minutes later, the three of you were sitting in the backseat of a black car, which you assumed was an uber. you head rested against someone’s shoulder as you began to close your eyes.

you felt someone jostle you awake. you opened your eyes to find that the uber had parked in front of your building. Pete was leaning in the car once more to help you out. you blinked the sleep out of your eyes as you took his hands. he helped you out of the car just as he had when you got to the club. you felt a pair of hands gently adjust your skirt, and you whipped your head around to find Colson standing behind of you.

“your skirt was riding up, baby,” he said to you while he tapped your hip.

“thanks,” you murmur.

you slapped your keys into Pete’s hand as he went to buzz you in with your code to the building. you began to walk to the door with Colson resting his arm around your shoulder. he kept you walking upright as you both entered the building. you took the elevator up 12 floors.

when you finally stepped foot into your apartment, you stood in the doorway and ripped your heeled boots from your feet. Pete dropped your keys into the bowl by your door, and Colson closed the door behind the three of you.

you turned around to the both of them, almost tripping over your own feet.

“kitchen,” you said pointing to the kitchen, “couch,” pointing to the living room, “guest room,” pointing to the guest room, “bathroom,” you pointed to the bathroom door. “there’s extra blankets in the closet,” you said pointing to the small closet by the bathroom. “help yourself to anything. I’m going to sleep.” you gave them a salute before turning around to your bedroom.

they laughed lightly as you slammed the door behind you.

as you stumbled into your room, you plugged your phone into the charger on your nightstand. after your phone was charging, you slipped your skirt and turtleneck off before slipping on an oversized t-shirt. you quickly wiped off your makeup before falling face down in your bed.

the next morning, you woke up with blurry eyes and a fog in your head. you blinked a couple times before rolling over to fall back asleep. you had your eyes closed as you tried to fall back asleep.

that’s when you heard a crash in the kitchen.

you whipped yourself out of bed, and you grabbed the baseball bat from under your bed. you took a deep breath before throwing your bedroom door open. with your bat raised, you lunged out of your bedroom at the intruder.

instead of the intruders, you found Pete and some guy standing in your kitchen messing with your pots and pans.

“jesus fucking christ, Pete, what the fuck?”

“oh, sleeping beauty’s up,” the guy called waving his arms out to you with your skillet and spatula in his hands.

“who is this? and what the fuck are you doing?” you shout annoyed at Pete.

“This is Colson, my friend who you met last night, but guessing from your reaction, you don’t remember much. you let us stay over, and now we are making breakfast,” he said before going back to whatever he was doing.

you felt Colson’s gaze on you. you dropped your bat on your shoulder as you met his stare. you glared into his eyes as he intensely stared back into yours.

“nice bat,” he said still staring.

“thanks, I played softball,” you glared back. “I’m gonna go put some clothes on.”

“you don’t have to,” you heard Colson call back to you as he watched you retreat to your room. from your room, you could hear Pete yell at him in the kitchen.

you laughed lightly as you threw on a pair of sweatpants and put a bra on under your oversized shirt. you took a scrunchie and threw your hair up before heading back to the kitchen.

you plopped yourself down on one of the counter stools in your kitchen.

“what are we eating?” you ask the guys.

“I’m attempting to make pancakes with whatever you have,” Colson called back to you.

“fantastic,” you reply.

“how’s your head?” Pete asked from his spot at the counter.

“it’s not bad. I don’t feel very hungover,” you replied.

“that’s surprising seeing how much you drank last night.”

“what even happened last night?”

“you drank a lot. you danced a lot. then, Colson showed up. then, you drank and danced some more with him.”

“wow,” you mutter staring off into space before you felt Colson staring at you again. you met his eyes before speaking up, “I apologize for that and whatever I did.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said before flipping a pancake.

“it was so funny. you were like one of those velcro monkeys wrapped around him all night,” Pete laughed.

“don’t make fun of me,” you yelled before whacking Pete with a dish towel on the counter. “you’re the one who got me drunk.” they both laughed before you looked up at Colson once more. “I am definitely apologizing for that.”

“I don’t mind. I liked being your arm candy for the night,” he said plopping a pancake on a plate.

you rolled your eyes before opening your phone. “what’s the damage? was there any paparazzi last night?”

“weelllllll,” Pete drew out.

“what?” you whine dropping your head a bit.

“there’s a few from when we left the club, and they followed us back to your building so there’s a few from then too. there’s two articles running already.”

“just because we went out for drinks?” you ask motioning between you and Pete.

“no, because we,” Colson motioned between the three of you. “went out for drinks.” he dropped a plate in front of you. “apology pancakes for the tabloids.”

“how thoughtful,” you murmur. “what did the articles say?”

“nothing just speculation,” Pete said taking a drink. “it’ll go away. you just might want to keep away from Colson for a while.”

“you’re kidding,” you said opening your phone before typing your name into safari.

you scrolled through the new section before you found the pictures from last night. in the pictures, Colson had his arm wrapped around your waist as you were shielding your eyes from the flash. you assumed these pictures were from when you left the club. the other pictures were of the guys helping you out of the car. Colson was standing behind you, towering over you with his arm around you. it totally looked like the two of you were a thing with how touchy you two were. you were not a touchy person when you were sober. you could only assume that the alcohol turned you into a velcro monkey as Pete put it. you briefly skimmed the articles only to find that they were speculating that you and Machine Gun Kelly, Colson Baker, were in a relationship.

“Machine Gun Kelly. you’re Machine Gun Kelly?” you ask him, squinting your eyes at Colson.

he and Pete laughed at you.

“I was wondering if you were going to put it together,” Pete laughed. “that took you forever.”

“well, I’m sorry, but I was drunk.”

“you knew I was friends with MGK,” Pete laughed.

“I didn’t think you were going to invite him to my birthday party.”

“so I take it you’re a fan?” Colson said raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not actually. I haven’t even heard your stuff. I’m not really into rap,” you said to him.

“ouch. that’s rough,” he sighed.

“sorry,” you shrugged. “thanks for the pancakes though.” you give him a smile before taking a bite.

Pete’s phone buzzed before he got up from his stool.

“shit, I have to go. I have to take my mom to the airport. are you going to be okay if I leave you?” Pete asked staring at you.

“yeah, I’ll be fine. tell your mom hi for me,” you said looking up at him.

“okay, bye kid. happy birthday.” he wrapped his arms around you.

“thanks for getting me drunk. I had fun,” you said patting his arm.

“yeah, I know,” he called back as he headed to your door.

“be safe,” you shouted before he closed your front door, leaving you with Colson in your kitchen.

you and Colson took a pause as you both watched the door. he was the first to break his gaze as he turned to you. you both made eye contact as you both stared at each other.

“so,” you started.

“so,” he replied leaning down on your counter to stare at you at your eye level.

“so.”

“so, what do we do now?”

“we can watch tv, or you can tell me about last night,” you suggest before shoving another bite into your mouth.

you were not bashful when it came to eating, and you were not deterred by Colson staring into your eyes as you chewed, even if he was really pretty.

“what do you want to know?” he said. his gaze never leaving your eyes.

“we seemed very touchy in those photos,” you hummed taking another forkful of pancakes.

“can’t help that your kinda hot.”

“wow,” you scoff leaning back from the counter. “this is hot for you,” you say shoving the pancakes in your mouth.

“very,” he laughed.

you peered an eye up at him, skeptically. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. there was no way that someone as pretty as he was would be interested in you.

he extended his hand out to you face as your eyes watched it move to your lip. he flicked a piece of pancake from your lip before smiling at you. you heart practically jumped out of its chest.

fuck. you were crushing.

the two of you hung out and talked for the next hour. you both flirted a bit back and forth. you felt this undeniable connection to him, and it made you feel sick. you were notorious for running from people and your feelings. you always chickened out before saying anything to them, and then when you finally got the courage to, that person had already found somebody else.

“fuck, I should go,” Colson said throwing his head back on the couch from where the two of you were sitting. “I don’t want to though.”

“I need to shower and get started with some pitches for work tomorrow,” you say lightly placing your head on the back of the couch.

“okay, I’ll go.”

“I’ll walk you down.”

he took your hand in his as he got up from the couch. he pulled you up as he grabbed his jacket from where it was placed on the arm of the couch.

you grabbed your keys before he pulled you out the door. you closed the door behind you before the two of you waited for the elevator.

you laced your fingers with his as you stepped into the elevator. here goes nothing, you breathed.

“I had a lot of fun with you,” you say staring straight at the doors of the elevator.

he turned to you with you fingers still locked with his. “I really like you.”

“cool, cool,” you say as you saw the number on the elevator tick to floor 6. you turn to him. “I should give you my number.”

he slipped you his phone, and you typed your number into his phone before handing back to him.

“cool, cool,” he started as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

you counted before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your height. you stood on your tiptoes, and you placed your lips on his. he grabbed your face as he kissed you back.

the elevator dinged as the doors opened. you broke away from him as you shoved him out the doors.

“call me sometime,” you say as you stood alone in the elevator.

“aye aye captain,” he saluted you. he moved back toward the elevator before pulling you back to him. “one more for the road.” he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe.

you finally pulled away for air while he held his hands on your head.

“you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“you’re not too bad yourself. now go so I can work,” you said fully pulling away before the elevator alarm was set off. “Bye Colson,” you said hitting your floor button.

“Bye (y/n),” he waved as the doors shut.

as you made your way back to your apartment, your phone dinged.

unknown number: hi velcro monkey

you rolled your eyes as you entered your apartment. this man was going to be the death of you.

first Colson Baker imagine. feel free to send requests. - rose xx

#mgk #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagines #colson baker #colson baker imagines #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly x reader

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fumingspice · 4 years

Text

All The Things She Said

Requests are open!

Part | 1 2 3

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Summary: almost caught by Lana’s husband. Dinner with mom. Brief mentions of having a bad relationship with food. Slightly irritating ending but its okay because I hate me too

There had been many close encounters. Too many to be overly confident in the situation. Her husband coming home too early during particular heated make-out sessions. Teachers passing by in cars while you walked through towns outside of your own during dates.

Weeks flew by and the rollercoaster of a relationship you had with your teacher went up and down like the waves of the ocean that you could see from your bedroom window.

The worst had come on a sunny Friday. You had taken a hard tumble on your run outside of Lana's help and you stumbled your way to her front door for some help. She gasped when she saw you.

She offered her arm to do as you limped into a kitchen and helped you to sit on her counter.

"Gosh, Y/N. This isn't a good look," she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from one of the drawers.

You chuckled through your pain. "You're just annoyed that you can't get me on my knees." Lana raised her eyebrow and tilted your chin down to see your eyes.

"I could, still."

You shook your head. You knew Lana would never touch you like that before you left high school, the promise she had kept this far. Lana dabbed your cut-up knees and shins with cotton balls dipped in alcohol. Blood had dripped down your legs and gathered and your socks. The brunette padded your knees and taped them with some medical tape she had found. They were pretty nasty gnashes after all.

Lana wiped blood from a smaller cut on your chin and dried it. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Your arms and palms were a different story.

You had unconsciously clenched your hands while you walked through Lana's house and upon opening them realised that blood had pooled.

"Oh, baby-" Lana started, stopping herself when she realised what had come out of her mouth. She went straight to cleaning your arms and applying bandages to your other injuries.

"Did you just call me 'baby'?"

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking straight."

You cocked your head at her. "I didn't think there was ever a straight thought in your head, baby."

Lana stared at you with a shocked expression.

"Too much?" You asked. You answer was a kiss as Lana pulled your legs around her waist and carried you over to her couch.

Careful not to disturb any of your injuries, Lana knelt between your legs and her tongue beckoned entrance to your mouth.

Your hands found at each other’s closed as you shift your bodies to straddle her.

Lana stripped off your running top and threw in onto the couch while you worked at the buttons on her blouse, only to be interrupted by the sound of the turning lock at the front door.

You hissed a profanity as you got your shirt back on as quickly as you could and fetched a glass of water to seem less suspicious whilst Lana tidied herself up.

“Afternoon, Lana,” her husband muttered as he strod towards her, taking her by the waist and kissing her. It almost felt as though he knew to prove something to you. Like he wanted to show you that on paper Lana was his. You bit your tongue and turned away, a pang of annoyance coursed through you as you saw Lana's lips on another, even if you knew she didn't want it. Even if you knew that he was completely cold towards her.

Oliver glared at you. "Why are you over here this time, hm?" he asked. "Isn't it a little inappropriate to be in your teacher's house so often?"

You rolled your eyes hard to keep the absolute diva inside you at bay. You turned to him and gave a coy smile. "I'm here as a neighbour," you retorted. Your heart smiled at Lana's silent chuckle. "I fell outside, and Ms. Winters cleaned me up." You motioned to the pads on your knees which were almost beginning to bleed through.

Lana shook her head at you, blushing slightly at your tone. Oliver shrugged as if your answer was satisfactory enough for him.

"I also came over because my mom wanted to know if the both of you wanted to come for dinner tomorrow night," you said. Lana's eyebrow raised as if to ask when you would stop trying to grind at Oliver. You knew rightly that he left for New York in the morning.

Oliver hummed to himself. "I'm afraid I won't be able to come, but I'm sure Lana would feel more than comfortable by herself."

Lana stared at him. "What does that even mean?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you're very comfortable with your student and her mother as it is. You don't need me around anyways," he said, he gripped Lana's wrist hard for a moment and released again when she winced.

Oliver stalked out of the kitchen and you stayed where you were until you hear his office door close upstairs.

Lana breathed a sigh of relief and clasped her hands to her head as you approached her with open arms. Lana lent into your embrace. “That was far too close, Y/N,” she whispered, her fingers tight around your arms. “Maybe we should stop doing that for a little while.”

You pursed your lips. You had felt Lana growing more detached for a while, worried that someone would find out before you would make it known.

Lana pressed her lips against your neck softly, laying them up to your jawline. “I like you, Y/N,” she whispered softly. “I can’t let anything bad happen.”

You shook your head to get her to stop talking. “How about you just come around tomorrow? We can watch a movie before my mom comes back. A little movie date, hm?” You played with a lock of her hair and put your forehead against hers.

Saturday morning came quickly. Your mom was still at work.

8am.

Oliver would have been gone for two hours and you had another few hours before your mom came home in the late afternoon.

You were quick to change into something comfortable and grab something to eat. Your relationship with food had been rocky for a while. Somedays you found yourself comfortable with your eating; you were careful with what you consumed out of your enjoyment for en bon santé which your mother often beamed upon, simply happy that her daughter didn’t have a constant craving for junk food. Other days however, you often found yourself over-calculating the calories in your head. It was so often a game of numbers that you were determined to win. Spitting snacks into the bin without thinking.

Lana had noticed your behaviour straight away and walked you through old tips.

“Food is not your enemy, sweetheart,” she told you as she watched you throw a napkin into a bin. One of your dates, you had got boba and waffles together.

You shrugged it off, but Lana stopped you. “You don’t get out of talking about this, Y/N,” she said. You had walked through a park and sat in the roots of a massive oak tree. You were against the tree and Lana lay between your legs with her back against your stomach.

“It’s nothing, Lana,” you said. It was true, in fairness you hadn’t thought about it as much other than a way to have a few snacks without worrying about what you were eating.

Lana propped herself up on you. “Well, no matter what it is I’m here for you to talk, and I’m not going. I was a teenager once too; I remember the pressure. But-” The brunette took your face in her hand and planted you a kiss. “-for what it’s worth, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

A knock came at your side door, followed by its opening and Lana walking in through your kitchen as you had advised.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she cooed as you strode into her arms for a hug. She planted a kiss on your forehead then stood against the counter, watching you make breakfast.

Your excitement to see your soulmate had almost made you forget that you were standing with only a crop top and shorts on. Although Lana clearly didn’t mind. “What are you staring at?” You giggled with a plate of pancakes in hand, reaching in to give Lana a quick kiss on the lips.

Lana rolled here eyes at you playfully and took your outstretched hand. “Any movies you want to watch?” You asked, smiling at the gratification you got as you felt her lace her fingers through yours.

You used your hips to force your bedroom door open, letting go of Lana’s hand for a moment to walk in. You noticed she wasn’t moving.

“Y/N, I meant what I said when I don’t want to go further than kissing you before you left school,” she said quietly.

You chuckled. “You don’t know me as well as you think. I don’t have sex in my bed. I like it too much to ruin the sheets,” you replied. Lana still looked unconvinced. “I only brought you up because I want to cuddle. In my bed. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go to the living room with a blanket. It’s up to you, baby.”

Lana thought it over for a minute before straightening up and following you to her bed. She lay down first, and you lay down on top of her with your head between her chest and shoulder, your arm and leg draped over her body slightly.

You had chosen to watch Nine-To-Five. Brilliant movie in your opinion. Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton. You used to watch it all the time with your mom after she left your father. It was one of those movies from the 80’s which always made you feel on top of the world after. Or maybe that was just Jane Fonda’s general influence.

You relaxed into Lana as you felt her hand lay down on your back, tracing swirling patterns in your skin that made your heartbeat at a hundred miles on hour.

You talked during the movie. Lana told you about anymore nightmares that Oliver had stirred up for her with the divorce that seemed to be going nowhere. She had even stopped wearing her necklace unless she knew that only you would see it.

Your mom came home a few hours later, after you had changed your clothes and went downstairs to look a little less inconspicuous. Your mother seemed to the think nothing of it, but for Lana it was a different story, and you could sense it in her.

“You better not be up to what I think you’re up to, Y/N,” your mom muttered when Lana excused herself to the bathroom during dinner, looking straight at you and taking a sip of her wine.

“Which would be...?”

Mom set her glass down hard. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s your teacher.”

Your mother’s ability to clock almost every single little thing never failed to amaze you.

“I’m nineteen in two weeks.”

Your mom waved. “Oh yea, sure. You’re nineteen in two weeks, that changed everything,” she muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Are you crazy?”

You debated answering that, given that it would’ve been a “yes.”

“The only reason that I’m not absolutely swinging arms with her, nor is she on my hit list, is because I saw the necklace,” she said.

“What about them?”

Your mom glared. “What do you mean, ‘what about them?’” She had a way of repeating what you said in a humorous tone when you said something silly. “I know that she’s your soulmate, Y/N. It still goes that you’re a student and she’s your teacher. Please, for both of your sakes end it for collage before one or the both of you get into trouble, hm?”

Your mom left to clean her dishes and Lana returned, your mom’s words still haunting you.

At the end of the night, your mom hugged Lana goodbye, telling her she was welcome over anytime. When your mom was visibly distracted you walked Lana outside.

“You know I could hear the conversation with your mom, right?” She spoke. You had been hoping to avoid having a conversation about this. “I don’t necessarily think she’s wrong.”

You broke away from Lana’s eyes and trained them on the ground, trying to compartmentalise her words.

“Listen, so far we’re just casual. Let’s put this to rest before something bad happens, and then as soon as your finished school I’m going to take you on a date to the nicest restaurant in the state,” she said.

“Casual,” is what she called it. You nodded your head and muttered goodnight. Lana, although noticing your behaviour, replied back, and left to her own house again.

Your mom stood in the hall. “I’m impressed,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think you would do it.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t.”

After that night, school was less enjoyable. You had even went as far as lodging a request to move to another class. You had barely been able to bring yourself to look at Lana from the sheer embarrassment. The request, to your dismay was denied and you had to face the added humiliation of Lana knowing that you had tried to leave the class and failed.

“You could at least talk to me about it,” she said when she asked you to stay behind. “You’ve barely glanced at me in the last two weeks.”

You shrugged again.

You felt like you had nothing to stay. Still stung from “casual.”

It was clearly bothering Lana, and you knew that her ego was the only thing that was keeping her composure. You knew it clearly didn’t help when Manny, the quarterback on the football team gave you a massive promposal in the cafeteria.

It was a gimmick. You’d been best friends with Manny since you were a child and he often flirted with you jokingly in class. Lana didn’t know of the extent of your friendship with him and you knew it stung her with jealousy to see the handsome, popular, insanely talented football player giving you all the attention.

Even Manny’s boyfriend, who lived in Arizona, teased you about the joke flirting.

You turned around, noticing Lana’s eyes fall when you looked at her.

You accepted, and boy were you in for it with Lana now.

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[SK8] down the waves of august

Word count: 4035

Summary: Skating under the scorching sun, sitting on the porch and eating popsicles—this is summer, and Kojirou doesn't take his eyes off Kaoru.

Note: AO3 link. This is high school era, so there are strong vibes of one-sided Kojirou/Kaoru, and a lot of pining Kojirou. They're still having fun though!

It never starts with Kojirou dragging Kaoru to a new skateboarding spot or an ice cream shop, even though he recently got his license to legally drive a bike that will allow him to go anywhere he wants.

It always starts with Kaoru showing up at Kojirou’s house with a grander than life energy and never-ending excitement that transforms every one of his steps into a skip. He’s smiling and shining, like there’s nothing more valuable than taking the biggest breath of air and swallowing it whole to absorb the freedom summer is giving them.

“Let’s go,” Kaoru says, shoving his fist against Kojirou’s chest with a grin. “Take your board.”

It’s nine in the morning on a summer day of their last high school summer vacation, and Kojirou doesn’t even think about his homework or his cram school classes as he follows Kaoru’s extended hand, guiding him towards a world where nothing matters except the smell of fresh flowers and the sight of a back showing him the way.

***

They’re sweaty, exhausted and hungry but Kojirou finds himself grinning like a fool as he collapses on the stairs of his house porch, skateboard in hand. Kaoru follows suit, placing his hands on the cool stone of the stairs, and lets out a long sigh as he tips his head back, some of his hair falling out of the low bun as he does so. Kojirou glances at the curve of Kaoru’s exposed neck, then quickly averts his eyes.

“We should go back to that skatepark tomorrow,” Kojirou suggests, still high on adrenaline. “I’ve got classes until 3 pm, we’ll have enough time before my mom starts calling me to get home.”

Summer classes suck, and Kojirou would have gladly spent his days lazing around and eating junk food while watching shows on TV, or skateboarding until his legs couldn’t take it anymore, but university entrance exams aren’t going to be passed without extensive studying. Simply thinking about them is enough for Kojirou’s good mood to drop.

“We should,” Kaoru answers slowly.

Kaoru’s face is turned towards the reddening sky. Even though the sun is setting, drowning the white facade of the houses into warmer shades, it’s still hot and way too humid for Kojirou’s taste. All summer is going to be like this—uncomfortable, sticky and heavy, but nothing he isn’t used to. He’ll complain about the weather until Kaoru gets annoyed and complains about him, then they’ll buy a week’s worth of popsicles to eat in one afternoon as they do their homework and they’ll go skating at night, once they’re free from obligations and the crushing heat.

This is what summer is supposed to be like. The view from his porch, from his family’s army of bicycles near the gate to the neighbor’s wind chime hanging on the first floor’s window and to the cat wandering on the roofs, is familiar and reassuring in its immutability. Kojirou has spent countless hours sitting here with Kaoru until dinner time, until one of them starts fidgeting because the stairs are stiff and uncomfortable and really not the place to sit on for a prolonged period of time. Kaoru’s traditional house would be a much more logical choice to hang out at; but both of them know it wouldn’t be the same.

When Kojirou stares at Kaoru’s figure, still looking at the infinite stretch of sky and gaze seemingly lost somewhere that Kojirou is not allowed to enter, he realizes that this summer will be different.

“You’re staying for dinner?” Kojirou asks, scraping his shoe against a hole in their paved pathway leading to the stairs they’ve never bothered fixing. “For some reason as we grow older, my family gets more excited when you stay for dinner. Eisuke is even asking for you.”

Kaoru shifts and turns fully towards Kojirou, his face the slightest bit surprised before his lips are curled into a smirk. The light of the sunset makes the color of his hair and of his eyes even more vibrant, like he was meant to be seen at this time of the day, when the sun recedes and the stars arise, and Kojirou almost misses what Kaoru says.

“That’s because I’m way cooler than you,” Kaoru snickers. “I’m a better role model for Eisuke than you are, you’re a lame big brother.”

Kaoru’s laugh comes from within, resonating deep in the front yard, filling it with the image of a breeze strong enough to make people sway and stagger, knocked off their feet by how genuine it is. The weight pulling at the strings in Kojirou’s heart grows bigger and heavier with each passing day, but no more painful.

Kojirou shakes his head. “Excuse you, he doesn’t need to be taught how to be a delinquent at twelve years old. You’re not even half the delinquent you pretend to be!”

“Still cooler than you are, stupid!” Kaoru retorts, and jumps to his feet. “I’m gonna eat everything in your fridge. Do you still have ice pops?”

Kaoru doesn’t even wait for his answer as he darts towards the door, easily sidestepping Kojirou and jumping over the last steps of the stairs in springy leaps. Kojirou, momentarily dazed, scrambles to get up but he’s not fast enough to stop Kaoru from turning the doorknob and dashing into the house like he owns the place. Shoes are carelessly thrown aside in the genkan while loud footsteps on the perfectly polished floor resound like an entire class of toddlers are raiding Kojirou’s home, which is not too far removed from the truth. Kaoru is laughing like a maniac.

“Don’t act like this is your house, you punk!” Kojirou shouts, making just as much noise as Kaoru in his chase, down to the kitchen. “Who said you could take the ice pops in the first place!”

“Your stuff is also my stuff!” Kaoru replies, almost hitting his face against the fridge when his steps screech to a halt in front of it.

“Stop stealing my food!”

“Hey, you have Papico ice cream too, nice!”

“I thought you didn’t like Papico—”

“Boys, play nice.”

Both of them jerk away from the fridge and swivel their heads to Kojirou’s mother, who is watching them with the kind of fond exasperation and amusement she adorns only when she thinks they won’t remember any of her words as soon as she leaves them be. Kojirou clears his throat and grabs Kaoru’s arm, pulling him along and shoving him to the front like a shield, ignoring Kaoru’s grunts.

“Kaoru was stealing our ice cream,” Kojirou says flatly.

“You’d let me starve?” Kaoru gasps.

“We’re going to eat dinner soon enough, you glutton!”

“You eat way more than I do! And after skating all afternoon we need snacks to help us cool down!”

Kojirou’s mother sighs, mutely shaking her head. She lifts her hand and points at the bathroom at the end of the corridor, tutting.

“No ice cream before dinner, go wash your hands, and help me set up the table. Kaoru-kun, don’t leave your bag in the front yard and bring it inside.”

“Yes,” Kojirou and Kaoru chorus.

Once they brush past Kojirou’s mother, they start kicking and pushing at each other to get first in the bathroom, then they flick water at the other’s eyes like it’s some sort of childish competition before they remember that Kojirou’s mother is waiting for them and probably expecting them to be on their best behavior (as behaved as they can be).

Kaoru goes to retrieve his bag and opts to drop it in the genkan beside his still carelessly thrown aside shoes. Were it someone else’s house, he most likely would have neatly put them away—but this is Kojirou’s house, always loud and welcoming and warm. Kaoru then bounds towards the kitchen to give a hand to Kojirou’s mother, moving with the confidence of someone knowing where the cracks on the pavement are and choosing to dance around them. He’s allowing himself to be extravagant in the company of people who are, at this point in his life, basically his relatives.

Kojirou watches the ease with which Kaoru reaches into cupboards and rummages through drawers under his mother’s orders, and he thinks it strange how natural Kaoru’s presence is in his house. Strange, but not unpleasant; Kaoru brings a warm gust of wind and slips into every rift left open for him to poke his head into. Kojirou sees the way his mother smiles and guides Kaoru like he has lived here all his life, waving a wooden spatula around and telling him to go fetch this and that, and Kaoru complies without a single complaint. It does something funny to Kojirou’s stomach, which he squashes down by breathing in deeply and rubbing his temples.

It’s fine. Kojirou is eighteen years old, and this is the last summer he can spend with Kaoru before responsibilities catch up to them. It won’t change anything.

***

Kojirou doesn’t ask why Kaoru wants to skate every day, despite their obvious amount of workload that barely diminishes as the long days of summer stretch into the end of August. It’s simply easier to pretend that everything pushing them around like they’re trapped in a train full of people, from the urgency to get grades above 80 points to the quiet expectation of finding a more socially acceptable hobby, doesn’t exist. For a few hours in the hot night of the city, Kojirou lets himself believe that this freedom of choosing will last for a while longer.

Kaoru starts to skate differently; he brings a notebook with him and scrawls remarks and numbers of his performance, comparing the different results of complicated tricks, and asks Kojirou to evaluate how accurate his predictions are. He looks so focused and sure of himself, unravelling this perfectionist side he’s kept under layers of piercings and aggressive language. Kojirou has never understood why Kaoru was so adamant on accomplishing things that contradict other, more established achievements of himself—like that time he said he wasn’t aiming at a better computer science university outside of Okinawa, despite his excellent grades and hunger for learning all he can; or the obvious question of why he keeps doing calligraphy with such dedication when the love he has for this art is nowhere near the amount of love he’s pouring into artificial intelligence.

“You know, I’m not a computer,” Kojirou sighs, trying to make sense of Kaoru’s instructions. “I can’t calculate all these things as fast, and I don’t even understand what you’re trying to do.”

“That’s because you skate without finesse,” Kaoru answers, an argument he’s repeated multiple times these past weeks. “You can turn anything into art, or something graceful and technical if you put effort into it.”

“Huh. Sounds like a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

Kaoru glares at him but keeps skating, going up and down the spine, jumping at the last second to flip his board and landing smoothly without making his wheels cry in agony. Kojirou doesn’t think it’s as satisfying as hearing the screech of the wheels against the asphalt—hearing how close the board is to the ground makes his performance even more spectacular and boisterous, like fireworks bursting into colors.

It’s past dinner time. They both warned their families they wouldn’t make it home on time—Kojirou received a message from his mother telling him to be careful, and Kaoru was asked to get back not too late. The skatepark is empty save for the both of them and two kids accompanied by their father at the funbox, all of them foolish enough to continue sweating after hours spent under the scorching sun. Kojirou is sitting at the top of the half-pipe, elbow propped up on his knee and chin resting in his hand, observing Kaoru. There is tension in Kaoru’s shoulders that wasn’t there before, slowing him down and making his skating stiffer, stilted, like some sort of insurmountable obstacle stopping his progress.

“Hey,” Kojirou calls, tone softer than usual. “Still no signs of Adam?”

Kaoru comes back at his side, gives him a single glance, and shrugs.

“Probably stuck at home or something. We can go a few days without him.”

And he goes down again, this time even faster and correcting his trajectory. Kojirou rolls his eyes and resists the urge to call on Kaoru’s bullshit, because it’s so infuriatingly obvious how upset he is at not being able to skate with Adam. Kojirou doubts it’s the sole reason for Kaoru’s bad mood, but it is definitely a factor and he doesn’t wish to ponder on it longer than necessary, lest he starts having ugly, intrusive thoughts.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry!” Kojirou says. “We’re getting ramen and you’re paying!”

“Why am I the one paying—”

Kojirou doesn’t ask why Kaoru is skating like his life depends on it, why it looks like this is the last time he will touch a skateboard. He waits, like he always has, until Kaoru is ready to tell him what’s been bothering him.

***

Cicadas are screaming and making a nuisance of themselves, even if the patch of grass and trees is two blocks over Kojirou’s house. He listens to them as he eats the popsicle he’s legitimately won by beating Kaoru at janken, idly thinking that maybe it’s counterproductive to sit on the porch when they have an electric fan in the living room to fight against the heat. Kaoru, leaning all his body weight against Kojirou because he likes being insufferable, is cradling his can of cola in one hand and playing some game on his smartphone in the other, looking deep in thoughts. Kojirou specifically does not think about their proximity and the warm point of contact between them.

“You’re heavy,” Kojirou mumbles.

“That will help you build muscle,” Kaoru says flatly, not budging at all.

It’s too hot to continue arguing, especially since Kojirou’s brain feels fried and unavailable for the next twenty-four hours. This is probably one of the hottest summers they’ve had, blinded by rays of sunlight and reduced to mush by the heavy air, dragging their feet from one point to another and doing at most three tasks a day, including attending classes and doing homework. Which doesn’t leave enough brain space for mundane activities like deep thinking.

And yet Kaoru still has that troubled look on his face that Kojirou wants to douse with cold water. Long strands of pink hair are falling over Kojirou’s shoulder—he can smell the stupid floral scent of his shampoo that drives him insane, the one they’ve chosen after spending thirty minutes comparing a dozen different brands at the store. He lifts a hand with the intention of touching them before remembering himself, and withdrawing just as quickly. How simple a gesture it is, and how easy a shift it would bring in their relationship.

“Say, Kaoru.”

“Hm?”

“We’re not going to drift apart once we graduate, right?”

Neither of them is going to leave Okinawa, for the time being. Their universities, if they get into the one they want, will be in opposite parts of the island. They can text and call each other, and they will most likely come visit their parents during breaks—it’s not like they are leaving for another country.

It dawns on Kojirou, then, that he and Kaoru have never spent a prolonged period of time apart since they met in middle school. The thought gnaws at him and wraps a tight hand around his chest; he chances a look at Kaoru, and finds golden eyes staring at him with incredulity and faint amusement in equal measures.

“I think it would take something bigger for us to stop talking,” Kaoru says. “Your flip phone looks ugly but at least it’s working.”

“Not everyone can get a smartphone of the latest technology,” Kojirou grumbles, though his entire posture relaxes. “I’ll detail in my emails the ingredients of my delicious meals while you’re eating instant ramen or sandwiches bought at the convenient store. I’ll even send you pics!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, maybe your meals will look pretty but they won’t be tasty.”

“I’ve never heard you complain about my food before.”

“There’s a first to everything, you naive idiot.”

Kaoru presses himself closer to Kojirou and almost manages to tip him over the porch, but Kojirou simply laughs and grips Kaoru’s shoulder to steady the both of them. Perhaps this is why they choose the porch and not the crowded space of Kojirou’s living room; a moment shared between the two of them, listening to the cacophony of nature and suffering the heat solely for the opportunity to exist together.

Kaoru doesn’t say anything else, returning his attention to his game and Kojirou thinks that maybe, as long as he lets himself believe it, this is the peace they will always carry within themselves.

***

Their bikes were left abandoned on the sideroad, out of the way for people to circulate freely but still parked in a haphazard manner that would have made their parents yell. It’s not Kojirou’s biggest concern though, and this is hardly the most unforgivable inconvenience they’ve perpetrated.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, kissing the edge of the sea and covering the entire beach in warm tones. The elevated highway running across the water sounds just as noisy as usual, bringing some sort of twisted rhythm to their footsteps on the soft sand. It’s quiet; not many people are agglutinated on the shore, and even less are taking a walk alongside the waves.

Kojirou’s bare feet are crunching the sand and the pebbles in slow and measured steps, following Kaoru’s trail in front of him. They left their shoes somewhere near their bikes, throwing aside what was in the end a dead weight they would have had to carry. They don’t come to the beach nearly enough—it’s a place where nothing seems to matter, all worries drowned by the steady sound of the waves and by the tickling breeze caressing their hair. Kojirou walks and lets his mind rest.

Kaoru is walking backwards, tracing a path he’s the only one visualizing one step at a time, carefully and gently. He doesn’t exude his usual fiery energy that burns everything around him; he’s calm, but not in a worrying way. Kojirou’s eyes never stray away from Kaoru’s figure.

“You’re going to trip,” Kojirou says.

“There is less risk of tripping in walking backwards than in skating,” Kaoru replies with a snort. “And even if I do, the sand’s not going to hurt me.”

“I would catch you anyway.”

Kaoru looks up from his feet. For one short, miraculous second, Kojirou thinks that there is hope in Kaoru’s eyes, but it vanishes in a blink and he’s left with a crooked grin.

“Maybe, if you’re fast enough,” Kaoru teases.

Kojirou’s shoulders lift in an overt, deliberate shrug. “I’m as fast as Adam.”

It’s half-petty, half-true, but Kaoru doesn’t pick up on the obvious disdain in Kojirou’s words and chooses to burst out laughing. His voice carries high and far, as clear and limpid as water, and his face breaks into an expression of pure joy that lights up his eyes. Kojirou stares, mesmerized and feeling stupid for still being caught off guard by all the alluring facets Kaoru is willing to leave open to be scrutinized.

“You’re trying to show off?” Kaoru asks, mirth in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it from mister I’ll-steal-your-thunder-anytime,” Kojirou snorts. “I’m not showing off if it’s true.”

“Then prove it.”

Kojirou raises an eyebrow, momentarily confused. Kaoru is still grinning as he splays his arms wide, something wild glinting in his golden irises. It’s only when Kaoru starts tipping backwards that Kojirou understands what kind of crazy shit he’s come up with and he leaps into action, his left foot kicking the sand and his right arm shooting forward. One or ten curses fly out of his mouth as he forcefully grabs Kaoru’s arm in one hand and grips his shoulder in the other, then yanks him towards himself.

For a few seconds, this moment floats in the air and remains suspended. Kojirou’s feet are half-buried in the sand in his rush to catch Kaoru, covered in an odd veil of warmth that somehow feels comforting, making him take root in this spot. He’s completely drunk on the sight of Kaoru, face too close and illuminated by the faint light of the setting sun, hair out of his eyes and piercings gleaming, his lips curled into a satisfied and lazy smirk. The sound of the waves is but a distant noise to Kojirou over the hammering of his heartbeat and the ringing in his ears. And for a few seconds, he wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss Kaoru.

The spell shatters and breaks when Kaoru lifts his hand and flicks Kojirou’s forehead, tearing a long groan out of him.

“That hurts, you know!” Kojirou grumbles.

“That’s only a tickle, you big baby,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes. “Well, I guess you prove you’re not completely useless.”

Kaoru wrenches his arm back and straightens up, making a show of dusting off his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles. Kojirou silently lets his arms fall at his sides, fingers still burning from the contact.

The wind is picking up. Kaoru turns his face towards the sky, and this—Kaoru’s profile, shining bright against the orange hue of the beach and the sky, devoid of worry and looking serene, is what matters the most to Kojirou.

“Summer’s ending,” Kaoru sighs, closing his eyes. “We still have a few months left together. And then it’s another kind of life entirely.”

“We’ve already established we’re not going to stop being friends,” Kojirou points out as he extracts his feet from the sand, tracing formless shapes in it instead. “Or are you already forgetting things from like, two days ago?”

“I was just making sure you remembered it, bastard.” Kaoru pauses; the sudden silence finally leaves space for the muffled noises of the water running on the sand. When he speaks again, his voice comes from the deepest well of his resolve. “You’ll become a cook and I’ll become the next renown calligrapher of Sakurayashiki studio. That’s how we’ve decided to grow up.”

Long days of unconcealed frustration, helpless screams about not being able to pursue a more profitable career and disappointment at his own inability to fully let go of something that has been transplanted in him since birth, leading to defeat simmered in rage—these memories come back in Kojirou’s mind unbidden and leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The puzzle pieces of Kaoru’s mood scattered across all summer move into place. But Kaoru is smiling and determined not to show weakness, even if the lines of his eyes are still angry, and who is Kojirou to not fall a little bit more in love with this flawed yet beautiful person that is Sakurayashiki Kaoru?

“We’ll grow up and become boring adults, but we’ll still be the same people,” Kojirou says with a smile of his own.

Kaoru slowly opens his eyes and looks over. Kojirou lifts his closed fist, expectant, and Kaoru obligingly bumps it with his own. A silly, mechanical gesture that accompanied them for years, like a sign of their bond that does nothing but strengthen and bloom with each passing day.

They are both sporting a grin as if they’ve just completed the best races of their lives. For once, Kojirou lets himself wholly acknowledge the pleasant fire that travels from his stomach to his chest, spreading a tingling sensation all over his body that makes him feel like he’s skateboarding at the highest speed with the certainty of victory under his wheels. He could get addicted to this quiet storm with the scent of spring brewing in his heart.

“Boring adults with boring friends,” Kaoru adds.

“That’s only natural,” Kojirou laughs.

The sun is dipping farther into the sea now—the colors are changing, gradually engulfing the beach in colder shades, but no less stunning.

Summer is ending, and new resolutions are starting.

#matcha blossom #joecherry #matchablossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #i love the summer vibes and okinawa is excellent for them #kaoru and kojirou are dumb teenagers learning that they have to grow up...

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star-spangledstud · 4 years

Text

Webcam

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (female!)reader.

Word Count: 2800-ish

Summary: You and Bucky try something you’ve never tried before.

A/N: Based on the song ‘Cyber Sex’ by Doja Cat. (I’M OBSESSED WITH HER RIGHT NOW, OKAY?!” also my first smut so be gentle ;)

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (don’t read if you’re a minor mmkay?); masturbation; cursing

For the fourth time in half an hour, you looked at yourself in the mirror. With one finger, you cleaned up your lip gloss, removing it from the edge of your lower lip before tousling your hair to give it more volume. You straightened out your dress next, blushing to yourself when you thought of what you wore underneath. Bucky had no idea what was coming to him, you were sure of it. After all, you’d never had cybersex before. The guy hardly knew how to work an iPhone 4.

“Can you see me yet?”

You chuckled, adjusting your camera so he would be able to see you better. Staring back at you was a black screen with three dots in the center and a small cutout square in the corner in which you could see yourself waving your hand in front of the webcam. You wiggled in your seat and squeezed your thighs together, anticipation bubbling in your lower belly at the thought of what you were about to do.

“No,” he muttered, “how the hell does this work again? Hang on, baby, the computer hates me.”

He pressed several buttons, thick fingers jamming the keyboard in quick motions. You doubted he had any clue what he was doing. Technology had never been Bucky’s strong suit.

You rolled your eyes and snorted, “James, we went over this. You have to press the camera button and make your own screen smaller with the little arrows so you can see me.”

A picture suddenly replaced the blackness, causing your cheeks to heat up and your heart to skip. There he was, your man, staring at his screen with a deep frown on his forehead and his tongue sticking out of his mouth; his concentration face. He was still dressed in his tactile suit, streaks of dirt evident on his chiseled cheekbones.

“I see you now,” he said, smiling at you, “can you see me?”

You nodded and waved again, smiling wide when he returned the gesture. You’d never get tired of seeing that face, not in a million years. He’d always give you butterflies.

“Where’s Steve?” You asked to be safe, peering into the motel room behind him.

“Got his own room for the night,” he commented, “I wanted to be alone with my best girl.”

He got up, placing the gun that had been lying on the desk in front of his computer on the nightstand of his double bed. The entire room seemed to entirely be clad in 80s decor, from the wallpaper to the sheets and even the TV behind him. You watched as he took another weapon from his waistband and placed it beside the other one. Then a knife, which he collected from his right boot, ended up on the table as well.

“How long have you been in?” You asked.

“We just got back ten minutes ago,” he smiled, “I couldn’t wait to see your face. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you said, “come sit down, big guy.”

He did as told and took a seat after taking his jacket off and hanging it up over the back of the chair. His finger went out to touch the screen but recoiled when he realized it was silly. He really did miss you, it had been too damn long since he was able to touch you.

Bucky and Steve left nearly two months ago. He knew it would be a long mission with endless stakeouts and not a lot of action, which made the time pass by even slower. Every day he’d sit in various hiding spots for hours, underneath bushes, behind trees and sometimes even high up inside them with weapons at the ready but nobody to shoot. HYDRA employees seemed to live in the underground facility he and Steve had been staking out for weeks now because neither of them had seen anyone go in our out so far and it was starting to become frustrating.

“We’re thinking we might call it quits in a few days,” he said, rubbing his arms, “we haven’t seen shit and we both doubt things will change anytime soon. It looks like they’re laying low for now. All the cameras are almost set up anyway, so we can watch ‘em remotely.”

You nodded happily, excited at the prospect of seeing your boyfriend again soon. You missed him terribly, missed having him by your side every day and in your bed every night. You missed pulling at his hair while his hands were on your hips, fingertips pushing into your bare skin as he drew profanities from your lips. Fuck, you missed him terribly.

“Speaking of cameras,” you grinned, “do you like my new dress? Haven’t had a chance to show you yet.” You asked, getting up from your chair.

You pushed it back so your whole body could get in the frame, your hands slowly running down the length of the pastel gingham dress that made your skin tone stand out beautifully. You could see Bucky closing in on his computer screen to see better, lower lip between his teeth when you twirled for him, making the skirt lift to expose more of your skin. He looked down at the white knee socks that clad your legs and the black Mary-Jane pumps on your feet and his lip turned red from the biting.

“I love it,” he said breathlessly, “really makin’ me miss you right now.”

“I’ve so been lonely without you,” you purred.

To say you’d planned how this would go be a lie. You’d never undressed on camera before and weren’t exactly confident in your abilities to sensually strip for a man, but it was Bucky who you were doing it for and just knowing that made you feel more at ease. Nevertheless, your heart thumped in your chest while your fingers went to the hem of the dress, which ended just above your knees. Bucky frowned as you began to lift the piece of fabric slowly over your thighs, his breath hitching when you looked up into the webcam.

“What’re you doing?” He asked breathlessly, “baby...”

He knew damn well what you were doing, he could see what you were doing with his icy blues, but he was afraid, terrified to think they were deceiving him or that it was all a terribly wonderful dream. Either way, he didn’t want to wake up before having the chance to see it all unfold. Being away from you for so long was starting to remind him of going to war. To make matters worse, he couldn’t just easily jerk off with Steve’s supersoldier hearing. Bucky was itching for release.

“Wanna show you how much I miss you, James,” you cooed, “cause I miss you real bad.”

Your hands left the hem for a moment, fabric dropping to just above your knees again. Then, they found the underside of your breasts, your sternum, your stomach, and your hips. You caressed yourself, flicking your own nipples and fiddling with the cotton straps slowly before you finally lifted the dress up again, further this time. He’d soon be able to see your new underwear, pretty, soft, and pink just like your pussy.

As soon as the fabric of the dress exposed the line of your panties, Bucky was gripping the table in front of him like his life depended on it. He’d never in his life thought about using modern communication devices for, well, sexual purposes, but the growing pressure inside his tactile pants had him suppressing a groan he could hardly keep inside his hot mouth and he had to stop himself from bucking his hips forward in an attempt to create deliciously painful friction against his pants.

Your bra, brand new and the same shade of baby pink with red lace around the wire, his favorite color on you, came into view and he was like a puddle at your feet. You tossed the dress on your bed, allowing your hands to slide up and down your body while he watched you in silence, the only sound being soft jazz music that played through your surround-sound system. Just the thought of his eyes on you getting naked in your bedroom made wetness pool between your legs.

You sauntered back towards the camera, using your hands to lean against the desk so your breasts were pushed together. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of him, had been ever since he was roughly whisked away from you two months ago and Jesus Christ you needed him so bad. It was a fucking sin to be away from him for so long. How the hell did you survive before you met him? How did you get off without his dick?

“Is that new too? Did you buy that for me as well?” He asked, voice gruff and dangerously low.

You nodded, showing off the fabric by coming even closer to the camera. Then, you turned around again, slightly shaking your ass when you showed him the back of your panties up close. Your thumbs hooked under the band on your hips and they smacked against your skin when you let it go again.

“I can’t wait to see you in that in-person, baby. All the things I’m gonna do to you while you’re wearing it. Gonna rip it right off you.”

“Yeah?” you taunted, licking your lips while cupping your bra with both hands.

“You doubtin’ me?” he asked darkly.

“Seeing is believing, Sarge.”

“You’ll see it,” he smirked, “feel it too, when I shove my fucking cock down your throat.”

You sat back down in the chair, squeezing your legs together to stop the ache between them as you shivered. How bad you wished he would come barging into the room right then and there to make you his, how much you needed his hand around your throat while he fucked you mercilessly into the desk, the thoughts were driving you up the fucking wall. You inhaled deeply, a deep breath enough to suck in the courage for what you were about to say.

“I’m so wet for you, James.”

You could hear the sharp intake of breath through the microphone of your laptop. He remained silent for a moment, contemplating what to say. He’d never done this before, but he wanted to make you happy in any way he could. He’d do anything for you, even being thousands of miles away from you.

“Are you now?” he huffed, “guess that since I can’t be there to help you, you’re gonna have to listen to what I tell you to do. Can you do that for me, baby? Be so good for me.”

You nodded quickly, taking your index finger in your mouth and biting the skin in anticipation. He had you writhing in your chair without even touching you. You didn’t know what it was about him, but everything about him turned you on, from the way his jawline was covered in dark scruff to his metal arm, which gleamed beautifully in the artificial motel room light. Everything about him oozed masculinity.

“Show me how wet you are,” he told you, “come on angel.”

You did as told by placing both heels on either side of the desk. He could already see the wet patch in the center of your panties begin to form and this time, Bucky couldn’t help but to let out a throaty groan when memories of him fucking you harshly and relentlessly into the mattress behind you clouded his vision.

“I’ve been so lonely without you, Bucky,” you said, rubbing your fingers across your inner thighs teasingly, “It’s just not the same when I do it.”

He palmed his cock through his pants en began to rub it slowly at the sight of you; one hand moving over your clothed pussy and the other disappearing inside the cup of your bra. You adored way his dark, long hair was tied in a messy bun and wished you could reach through the screen to touch it. You wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips trailing down between your breasts, along your stomach and to the place where you needed him most.

“Take it off,” he grumbled as he undid the button and unzipped his pants, “all of it. Take it off right now.”

He didn’t have to tell you again. Your bra was on the floor in seconds, exposing your perked nipples to the cold air of your room and his wanting gaze. You wiggled out of your panties, dropping them on the ground in front of you. Then, your legs resumed their previous position, one on the left side of your laptop and the other on the right, heels clicking against the wood in anticipation.

You swore you could hear him curse underneath his breath when he caught a view of your naked pussy, glistening with slick and pretty pink contrasted by dark tan lines. He pulled his straining cock free from his boxers at last. It’s hard and thick, so fucking thick it made you want to cry out in desperation. There was no way you could’ve waited another day without at least seeing him, it was downright torture.

“So pretty, baby,” he groaned into his microphone, “touch yourself for me.”

You did as told, placing a finger on your most sensitive place, “Like this?”

You began to rub circles over your clit, finally allowing a moan to escape your lips while Bucky slowly rubbed his throbbing cock.

“Jesus, I want you to come sit on my dick,” his eyes screwed shut, “fuck you ‘til you can’t breathe.”

“Come home then,” you tease, licking your finger before placing it back on your nub, “I’ll sit on your dick all day long.”

“All day? You sure you can handle that?” He asked, eyes opening again just in time to see you plunge your middle finger inside yourself.

You were so hot, burning to the touch and your back arched involuntarily when you dipped your finger in and out of your glistening pussy, “I’ll sit on your dick and your face, Bucky. You’re my favorite seat.”

He chuckled, his grip on his cock tightening in an attempt to mimic the way you felt clenching around him. He envisioned it, your pussy over his mouth, nose pushed against your public bone as his tongue dove in and out of you. He’d grip your ass and smack it red with his metal one while groping your tits with his flesh one, drinking you up as you came in his mouth, driven to near madness from the feeling of his scruff against your most sensitive area.

You couldn’t wait for him to be with you again so he could be the one whose fingers were inside you instead of your own, ready to cave under the pressure of his muscular body on top of you.

“Fuck,” you moaned, plunging another digit in so your middle finger wouldn’t cramp up, “wish you could cum in my mouth.”

“Jesus Christ, I will,” the velvet murmur of his voice reminded you to look up at the camera instead of down at yourself, “soon as I get back to you I’ll cum wherever you want.”

You began to pump faster, rubbing your clit in smaller and more intense circles than before. You could see him do the same, increasing the speed with which he jerked himself off. His face was red and gleaming with sweat, running along his temple and down his neck. Your moans echoed through his speakers and through your room, filling his ears with a sound so delicious it nearly drove him insane.

“Cum for me, baby,” he urged, “I wanna see you make yourself cum like my good girl.”

Pleasure overtook you when his words rang in your ears on repeat, eyes screwing shut when you continued to plunge your fingers inside you at a fast pace. Your hips rolled inside the chair, desperate for as much friction as you could possibly get. It creaked under your jerky movements, but you didn’t pay it any attention when Bucky’s voice filled the room through the speakers.

You tossed your head back in bliss, pressure building so fast and deep inside of you that you knew you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Keep going,” he urged, “don’t you dare stop, baby.”

“James, fuck” you moaned loudly, “I’m gonna..”

Before you could finish your sentence, you were cumming so hard you saw stars clouding your vision. Your walls clenched around your fingers while you continued to rub circles over your oversensitized clit in an attempt to ride out your orgasm as long as you could. The coil of pleasure inside your lower belly finally snapped, sending sparks before your eyes and your mind blanked.

You shuddered and opened your eyes, watching Bucky stroke himself from tip to base, hair beginning to fall from the bun atop his head the more he tilted his head back.

With a harsh pant, he came all over his stomach, coating the black tactile vest in glossy white spurts of hot cum. He’d have to clean it before tomorrow because his other one had ripped when trying to climb a tree, but right now, all he could think about was how good it felt.

He fell back inside his chair, hands falling limply to his sides while he watched you remove your fingers from inside you.

“We should’ve done this two months ago,” he panted, “could’ve saved me a lot of lonely nights.”

You smiled blissfully, wiping a strand of sticky hair from your forehead.

Still, you couldn’t wait to have him with you for real.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fic #marvel smut #marvel #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fic #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #jammywrites #steve rogers smut

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literameera · 3 years

Text

White Sails

2433 words

The oceans going to swallow him whole some day and only then could he die happy.

Caspian already gave his soul to the sea, his first great love. Initially I was excited for him and how he got to live out his dreams. He’d write to me about his exploits, I’d gasp and laugh when appropriate, as if he can see, and finally when the stories ended, I’d write to say that I’ve been living the same way: wake up, work, eat, sleep and mostly anticipate. He’d tease that I live like a widow refusing to believe her husband's dead, wasting away staring out the window, hoping for him to someday return to her. Like the ship of Theseus every time he left a part of him had been replaced, how long has he been a man I couldn't recognise, a ghost wearing my lover’s skin.

Only the wooden planks stepped on by Theseus himself belong to the original ship, the rest are imposters high off the glory of His name. Your skin cells regenerate every twenty-seven days – and it’s been longer than that since my hands held his, the wind already swept all memories of my words from his mind. He can only belong to one and she’s infinitely larger than me. To him, her cold embrace feels like coming home. It’s selfish – I’d remind myself – selfish to want to steal what makes him happy all because I feel lonely, he’s loved the ocean long before he’s loved me, and he will long after. I can only hope she’s kind when she does finally take him. I’ve heard that saltwater burns your lungs and that a body only sinks for a moment and as it fills with water it floats to the top, I don’t want them to find his body, he wouldn’t want them to either. I hope his clothes weigh him down and 80% becomes all of him, that he sinks to Atlantis and the sun never feels him again, we don’t deserve it.

But then he comes home, the wind in his hair, salt clinging to his skin and horribly chapped lips, he kisses me hello and I get a taste of what he feels. He tells me he’s missed the warm water from the shower while I wash his locks, that his land legs haven’t grown back yet so can I hold on just a little tighter ‘to make sure I don’t fall of course’. I tell him our neighbours' gossip and he laugh and gasps when appropriate and says that he’s missed the shop at the end of the street, in the morning he’ll grab groceries and those chocolates he’s loved since he was a kid, and some things never change. When it’s quiet and we lull we watch the sun set, sitting on a linoleum countertop in the kitchen, he glows orange in its light and tells me he’s missed me.

When a whale dies its body sinks to the benthic zone, there where there’s no sun, no blood, no heat, no me, or him the oceans creatures eat on its flesh, their entire life's sustenance reliant on an animal they’ve never seen alive and blobfish get their namesake feature from the rapid shift in pressure, they essentially burst while being pulled up by fishermen. The universe is kept spinning by forces we don’t know and can’t name and one day the sun could burst, and we wouldn’t know until 8 minutes later when its light should touch us and won’t. But it did that day, the light travelled through a solar system to shine on him, and shine on me, and that’s how we met. It was fate. Eight years later it’s still fate when Caspian wakes up beside me, his skin a warm brown, like the terracotta pots he brings back to accommodate my ever-growing garden, and his tousled hair a sun-bleached orange, the roots betray their natural umber colour (the same as the eyes he was currently hiding behind tired palms), men like him are born out of stardust, and they can’t help but to replicate its heat. He’s looking at me now, his warm hands place a stray strand of my own umber hair behind my ear and pauses on my cheek, my bronze skin a slight contrast to his, brown eyes reflecting brown.

‘Let’s go over the plan, alright Leya?’ He breaks the silence, ‘we’ll lock up, give the keys to Theo and Honora, they promised to water our plants and dust the place while we’re gone, we pick up your jumper from the market –Eilidh promised it’ll be done by then- and then it’s me, you and wherever you can land your finger on a map.’

‘Yeah, I can’t wait. Me, you and The Caspian’ the smile I give him falters and my bottom lip trembles. He frowns.

It was my idea to come with him, I was tired of being alone and he was tired of forgetting synonyms of vast for his letters home, I knew he exhausted all the ways to say I love you when he started to transcript theology to me:

‘They believe that next to Christ, that’s what they call him, there was a man that lived in sin, two in fact but only one of them matters. They don’t know anything about this man, not even his name, except for his last words. And they were that of forgiveness and salvation. A man whose entire history is left out of the book that chronicles it. We know nothing of his home, his family, his life, not even his crimes, but we know that he loved and was loved in return. I don’t believe a lick of it but by God these people are good storytellers.’

I did want to go. Maybe the second I see the flickering reflected crescent moon on the ocean waves I’d decide I never wanted to leave, that the past 25 years of living and four years waiting can all be justified by that one experience. But I also couldn’t just leave. He was the one with adventures and loose ties and sea salt, and I’m the one that waits. The diligent partner with a cup of tea and open arms for him, who were we if not that? Who am I without anticipation and loneliness? For years, my life was contingent on feeling and watching a ticking clock, and now I just get to be free? It doesn’t sound real. It doesn’t sound fair on the woman I used to be, the one still waiting. He knows how I feel, he must, from the furrow of an eyebrow I know he’s got me pegged.

‘Remember the night before I left- the first time that is- and I kept going over lists, obligations and checking everything twice, I even meal prepped your food for months in advance. And you told me everything will still be here when I get back...’ He pauses to hold my face in both hands, brown eyes locked on brown eyes to make sure I was listening, ‘everything will still be here when we get back. If you don’t want to go that’s fine, we won’t, I’ll spend the next six months right here with you, and every day after that if you want me to. I’m tired of you being alone. But if you do want to go... We lock up, see the world and come back, it’s that easy.’ With that he kisses my temple -the most delicate part of the head – and climbs out of bed.

Honora and Theo promised to give all the leftover perishable foods to the family around the corner, they have seven kids and not enough to feed them all. They also ensured once a week every plant will be watered, all letters brought in, and the surfaces periodically dusted. The jumper Eilidh had made was beautiful, she told us wool is preferable when wet because it resists water and keeps you warm. She made it green, in case I miss the trees, and Caspian paid her double. I had hoped the air would be electric, brimming with something, as if it knew I’m leaving this time too. Everything was the same, same as it's always been and same as it always will. And I won’t be, I’ll go out there, replace my ships planks and come back me, but not wholly or maybe as more, and if Caspian’s with me the whole time who would notice the change, all of my red strings connect back to his.

It was half a day's journey to the port, and I felt it all. At some point my head was pulled to rest on his shoulder and every time the sun shone particularly bright he held a hand over my eyes to shield them. When we were close to enough to the sea to smell it, the briny tang light in the air, he came into himself, as if he swallowed sunlight, and grinned.

I hate this. Caspian told me I will at first, I haven’t got the familial love he has. A runaway father that was only 19 when he met his future wife at the port. The family was forcibly moved to a landlocked town when opportunities dimmed and Caspian's childhood was spending every holiday possible making the hours long treks to the beach, with just enough time to wiggle his toes in the sand and swallow lungsful of water when learning to swim, and when he was older it was learning how to sail with his father. Finally, it’d get too cold to continue so his mother would swaddle him in towels and place him on her lap, until he eventually grew too big for her, together they’d watch the sun set. He told me once that it was like the water was just a mirror and everything radiated pink and orange and golden hues until finally... darkness, and there was twice as many stars as usual. Then they’d go home and count down till the next summer. His love was intergenerational, it’ll grow on you, trust me. But it won’t, I hate this. I feel sick & disoriented, it’s too loud and quiet at the same time. Like when people move from a bustling city, heavy in smog and movement, to a quaint village, and there they find the crickets and pollen too much to bear. There was none of the sounds I was accustomed to and all too many of ones I wasn’t. I can’t even swim.

How did we plan for weeks and not think that I would need to know how to swim?

Caspian had finished prepping the sails and letting us go in the wind's direction, promising he’ll take us as far East as he can find – and then carry on. He had tried to explain all the terms to me, but words like ‘jib’ and ‘hull’ and ‘tiller’ easily slipped out of my mind like water. Instead, I stood by the helm and just watched him work, focusing on the beads of sweat running down his forehead and pushing supper down as far deep as it goes, as to not ruin this for him. When he had finished, he gave me the tour, showing me the saloon, where to cook, where to rest, where to pray, how to store in such a small space and when I was overwhelmingly exhausted from the information swimming in my head, he grabbed some pillows and blankets and led me back to the cockpit. There he prepped everything like it was our bed at home and laid down, gently pulling me down with him, our knees were bent awkwardly, and we were closer together than usual. That’s when I understood When I was younger my mother would bring me to visit her friends and after the initial gasps and hugs and ‘my how you’ve grown!’ they would largely ignore me to talk to each other. One of her friends, Mariam, had a baby boy that would sleep in a wooden bassinet pushed to the wall closest to where I was sitting, when he did stir, they’d finally address me again and tell me to rock him slightly, let him be lulled back to rest. Here, we were lightly rocked side to side by Poseidon himself and entire galaxies shining down on us, like a sleeping baby in a bassinet. I didn’t know there could be so many stars and still such a vast darkness. Caspian told me about the constellations he knows and the ones he’s made up, his own mythologies mapped out above us. And when I was too tired to listen, eyes drooping and his words bleeding into each other he tenderly held my elbow to help me up, shifting so I could rest my weight on him, and walked me to the bed, trying as best he could to push my dead weight into the cramped space. Leaving only for a moment to bring the pillows back in, before climbing into bed besides me.

The next morning, we stopped on still waters, and he taught me how to swim. In the afternoons, after I showed him my grandmothers' recipes for the cold, he tried to teach me more sailing terms and by the evening I’d read to him under the dimming light, I’d have to stop after a moment, too nauseous to read the words. It was a routine we near perfected in a month. I could tell he was happy; he was drowning in it. Shockingly, I was too, a saloon that smelled like garlic and spice, secured down potted herbs, dry storage spaces filled to the brim with my books, and his slow breaths when I should be asleep, was enough. On days the wind was too bad to pause he’d make me use the knots he taught me and shout what I need to do if we tip over, the exhilaration was more than anything I’d ever known.

Resources would run low, and he’d dock in the port of a country I'd never heard of, a culture unfamiliar and language unknown. With limited communication and lots of points & smiles we’d buy what we need and when our food was restocked, I’d ask to stay a few days more. We’d integrate ourselves in the local community and learn how to say ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ and plan to return in the holiday season. We’d make pocket communities across the world and relish in hot water and write letters to the people back home.

#tw religious themes #tw death mention #tw drowning #writing #writers #writers on tumbr #prose #writeblr #studyblr #white sails #ask to tag

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, moretomhardy!

For @moretomhardy. I hope you enjoy!

Read On AO3

*****

A Life Like That

The notification pings before Derek’s last ride has even reached her door, and he snorts as the app flashes his match. “Head to pick up Mieczyslaw (Stiles) now..”

He’s not surprised when the phone lights up with a call a moment later. He waves goodbye to the woman he’d dropped off as he pulls away, letting the call come through the Bluetooth piece in his ear.

“You know you have to pay for that ride now, right?” he says in lieu of a greeting.

“That’s alright,” Stiles says, and Derek can hear the smirk in his voice. “I just so happen to be sleeping with this guy who is like…obscenely rich. And loves paying for anything I need.”

“Is that so?” Derek snorts in response. “You’ll have to introduce me to him.”

“You’re not stealing my sugar daddy!” Stiles laughs.

He goes into the chorus of Jolene before Derek can stop him, and Derek lets it go on for longer than he really should before butting in.

“Calm down, Dolly,” he says. “Your extravagant lifestyle is safe. You’ll be kept in the finest pizza and hipster beer that Beacon Hills has to offer.”

“I was just getting into it!” Stiles protests, but Derek can tell he’s smiling.

“Where are you going anyway?” Derek asks, keeping his eyes on the moderately busy road in front of him as he heads towards their house.

“Doesn’t your app show you?” Stiles asks, and Derek can hear him huffing as he settles down on the front porch steps to wait.

“Not until I actually pick you up,” Derek says. “How’d you even manage to match with me? I was ten minutes away.”

“I….” Stiles hedges, “I might have cancelled like six other rides until I got you.”

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“Honestly,” Stiles says, “I’m surprised it worked.”

Derek just laughs before pausing as something occurs to him.

“Wait,” he asks, “why aren’t you driving yourself? Did the Jeep break down again?”

“The thing is,” Stiles says, and oh boy, Derek knows that tone.

“What did you do?” he says.

“Always with the lack of question-mark tone,” Stiles says, ignoring the question.

His breath hitches on the last word, and Derek’s mood abruptly goes from teasing to worried.

“Are you hurt? Did somebody get through the wards?”

“I’m ok,” Stiles says quickly, trying to reassure the panicking werewolf. “Nobody attacked, nobody got through the wards. I just had an unfortunate encounter with a rickety chair and the kitchen floor.”

“Shit, babe,” Derek says, turning down the road towards their house, going a little faster than he should, but he can’t be bothered to care. “What did you…”

He asks the question as he pulls up to the house, but it’s answered before he even has to finish it. In his ear, the Bluetooth beeps as Stiles ends the call, dropping his phone into his left pocket, fumbling slightly as he does so. His right arm is tucked close to his chest in what looks like a makeshift sling from a sacrificed t-shirt.

Stiles waves with his good hand, grinning wanly despite the pain Derek can now see on his face.

Sighing, Derek clicks the “ride started” button on his app and leans over to open the door of the Camaro for Stiles. Realizing Stiles won’t be able to shut the door, Derek hops out and goes over to the passenger side, where he’s met with Stiles’ big sad eyes as he too realizes his predicament.

“Come on,” he says to Stiles, getting him settled into the car and buckling the seatbelt across his lap, letting the chest piece stay behind Stiles so he doesn’t hurt him further.

“Why didn’t you just call me normally?” he asks. “I would’ve stopped working and picked you up right away.”

Stiles shrugs one-shouldered. “Mostly wanted to distract you from worrying about me until the last minute. It was dumb.”

“Not dumb,” Derek says, “I thought it was funny, right up until I realized you were hurt.”

Stiles just frowns and doesn’t say anything as Derek closes the door gently.

When they’re settled and back on the road, Stiles gives a deep sigh and looks over at Derek, who is driving as smoothly as possible so as not to jostle the broken bone.

“Well, this sucks,” he says. “I hate the hospital.”

“I know,” Derek says, sympathetically. He stops at a red light and reaches over to clasp Stiles’ broken arm gently, leeching as much of the pain as he can before the light turns green and he needs his hand back to shift gears.

“Ahh,” Stiles sighs, happily this time. “That’s the good stuff right there. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

He rests his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, the tightness of his eyes visibly loosening, much to Derek’s relief.

“There’s also all the pizza and beer,” Derek teases.

“Mmmhm,” Stiles agrees, sleepily. “And also your butt. I love your butt.”

“You’ve made that known many times,” Derek laughs. “Hey, did you hit your head at all? I don’t want you falling asleep if you have a concussion.”

“Nuh-uh,” Stiles says, shaking his head slightly. “My arm broke my fall. And then broke…itself.”

“Were you using one of the chairs your dad gave us that creaks even when tiny Lydia sits on it?”

Stiles says nothing, feigning sleep.

“I can hear your heartbeat and your breathing, asshole,” Derek says, reaching over to smack Stiles’ knee without taking his eyes off the road.

“Ugh,” Stiles says. “Fine. Yes, I was using the chair that’s older than Dad. And yes, it decided my very manly muscled body was just too much for it to bear, and yes, one of the legs snapped and yes I fell victim to gravity and my own damn hubris. Happy?”

“Very manly muscled body?” Derek asks, smirking.

“You love my manly muscled body,” Stiles says without opening his eyes. He does, however, stick his tongue out at Derek as if he was 5 years on, not nearly 27.

“I do,” Derek allows, and he turns his head away from the road for just a moment to shoot a grin to Stiles.

“And of course I’m not happy you got hurt,” he says. “Just trying to keep you distracted until we get to the ER.”

“I know,” Stiles says, softly. “I appreciate it.”

Derek hums in response, only to laugh out loud a moment later.

“What?” Stiles asks, opening his eyes at the sudden outburst and looking over at Derek with wide eyes.

“Melissa is going to lose it when she finds out you were bested by a piece of furniture,” Derek responds, still chuckling to himself slightly.

Stiles groans.

“We’re here,” Derek says, pulling in to park and ending the ride on the Uber app, before signing out of it for the day before he can get another request.

Once they’re parked and ready to get out, Derek takes a little bit more of Stiles’ pain, just enough to get him through the sure to be long wait at the emergency room.

Stiles leans into Derek slightly with his good side and sighs in relief again.

“Definitely giving you a 5 star rating.”

A few hours and one hand-to-elbow cast later, they’re finally on their way home, a prescription for painkillers in the glovebox, and the promise of a delivery dinner on the horizon.

“At least I can still do most things left-handed,” Stiles says, in much better spirits now that his broken arm is set and the mild painkillers the hospital gave him have kicked in.

“And it’s a good thing you can walk to work from the house,” Derek adds.

“You mean my dearest darling wolfy wouldn’t drive me to work?” Stiles asks, batting his eyes over at Derek in an exaggerated motion.

Derek just rolls his eyes.

“It’s a 10 minute walk, Stiles,” he says. “You didn’t break your legs.”

“It’s cold in the mornings!” Stiles protests.

“We live in California,” Derek counters, smirking.

“Northern California!” Stiles objects. “You know very well it gets cold here!”

Derek shrugs, just to annoy him. “It’s not cold to me.”

“We don’t all have magical weather accommodating werewolf bodies!” Stiles huffs, wishing he could cross his arms against his chest.

Derek turns into their driveway and parks before grinning and letting his eyes flash red as he turns to Stiles.

“You could,” he says, flashing red again for dramatic effect before letting his eyes go back to normal.

“Don’t tempt me,” Stiles says, groaning again as he looks down at his arm and thinks about how very annoying the next 6 to 8 weeks are going to be.

“Offer is always open,” Derek says, leaning over to unbuckle Stiles’ seatbelt. He tilts to place his mouth on the juncture of Stile’s throat and shoulder, biting down lightly with blunt teeth.

He smirks internally at the way Stiles’ heartbeat rises, and the smell of arousal that practically sizzles from his suddenly heated skin.

“No fair,” Stiles whines. “Getting me all worked up when I can’t be…vigorous.”

Derek laughs and pulls away before they end up having a wobbly version of car sex in the driveway. Again.

“We’ll just have to go slow then,” Derek says.

“Hell, yeah,” Stiles says, raising his good arm up in a triumphant fist pump. “We’ll Boyz II Men the fuck out of tonight!”

“Please don’t sing,” Derek says, but it’s too late.

“I’ll make love to you!” Stiles belts, “Like you want me to!”

Derek doesn’t know much about music, to be fair, but he can tell that Stiles isn’t remotely in the same neighborhood of the right key.

“I don’t know why I love you,” he says, even as he’s helping Stiles out of the car and into the house.

“My superior singing skills,” Stiles says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Derek says dryly, but he can’t help but smile at Stiles.

“Cash money!” Stiles calls out in delight as their white long-haired cat pads into view, sniffing at the air delicately.

“Meow?” she chirps up at Stiles, swishing her tail softly.

“She says her name isn’t Cash Money,” Derek says, sharing a conspiratorial look with Cashmere.

“You don’t speak cat!” Stiles protests.

“I’m versed in all woodland creatures,” Derek replies, completely straight-faced, only breaking out into laughter when the reference hits Stiles and he starts to laugh.

“Ok, Kronk,” he says, leaning down to give Cashmere scritches.

She arches up into it for a brief moment before trotting off to do whatever she does during the 80% of her life where she wants nothing to do with them.

“Pizza?” he asks Derek, who already has his phone out and is tapping away on one of the delivery apps.

“Soon,” Derek promises, holding up his phone to show the order has been accepted.

“Then careful sex!” Stiles declares, before his mouth cracks open in a huge yawn.

“Or maybe sleep,” Derek says, arching a single eyebrow in amusement.

“Mmm,” Stiles says, reaching out to Derek with his good hand. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Derek laughs and pulls Stiles back against his chest, tucking an arm around his left side and hooking a thumb into the loop on Stiles’ jeans.

“After dinner, we’ll put that super sexy cast bag on your arm so we can shower. I’ll even wash your hair.”

“Ugh,” Stiles says, wrinkling his nose at himself. “That shouldn’t turn me on. And yet.”

“And yet,” Derek agrees. “And then we’ll get into bed and I’ll let you make me watch The Witcher for the tenth time.”

“Don’t be jealous of how sexy Geralt is,” Stiles chides, leaning his head back onto Derek’s shoulder so Derek can rub his cheek along his neck.

“I could take him,” Derek huffs.

“Yes, dear,” Stiles says, eyes closed and swaying gently as Derek rocks them in place.

“Can he full-shift into a wolf?” Derek asks. “No,” he says, answering his own question resolutely.

“Not a werewolf,” Stiles feels compelled to point out.

“He’s not even scary!” Derek continues, huffing again. “And his wig is bad.”

“And he should feel bad,” Stiles agrees. “Now let’s go sit down before I pass out. You can tell me all about your issues with Geralt of Rivia from the couch.”

“Gladly,” Derek says. Stiles just laughs.

Later that night, they’re clean and cozy in bed, watching Yennefer scream out her pain to the world.

“She’s gonna cause so much trouble,” Stiles says happily.

Derek considers it for a moment and nods in agreement.

“Good for her,” he says. “With a life like that, she deserves a happy ending.”

Stiles looks over at Derek from where he’s propped up against the headboard, but Derek’s full attention is still on the screen.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, smiling more than a little dopily at the man he loves. “She sure does.”

THE END

#moretomhardy #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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henqtic · 3 years

Note

ASH. ASH. ASH. GIRLIE.

IMMA NEED U TO DO A RECAP BC I JUST SAW UR POST AND I NEED TO KNOW THE TEAAAAAAAAAAA

MISS GURL HAS A CRUSH AND I NEED DETAILSSSSSSSSSS

FULL DETAILS. FROM THE TOP. RECAP. SUMMARY.

ANYTHING IM INVESTED NOW

OKAY IM RESPONDING SO LATE SORRY

but yeah it was like before covid where i first saw him right ?? and it’s was like before covid so no one was really doing their best but i’m telling you i saw some heavy potential — like he was nice to look at sometimes but that’s it

but then a few months into the year i was like gosh… why is he so smart and not like in a know it all type of way just like — smart. and i already made a post about this but someone being smart is just a major 😩 for me

but like yeah whatever and that was embarrassingly how my crush started and we got grouped together for some assignment and he said the most basic thing “you’re (my name) right?” AND I FOLDED

i have many standards for guys but not having to be corrected on saying my name ( AND LITERALLY JUST SAYING IT ) is so 😮‍💨😮‍💨 to me — like bro some of the ones i’ve liked in the past were extremely questionably but it’s how they said my name 😔😔

anyways covid hits and i don’t really see him because like we don’t live in the same neighborhood and i barely went outside

but now back to school like last week the first period i have him in is… third and LORD OF HAVE MERCY — look bro i love waves and shii,, i don’t discriminate 😩🙌🏽

but he grew his hair out like AHHHHHHHHH DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IVE BEEN WAITINF FOR THIS ??

and mans got like way taller like brooooooo — STEP ON ME IF YOU PLEASE ++ HIS VOICE ,

LIKE JAW ON THE FLOOR, MASK COVERING SMILE, FACE HEATED LIKE I WAS GOING THROUGH IT

and then i realized that it’s just like before and we have 80% of our classes together LIKE THE UNIVERSE HAS TO BE DOING THINGS FOR ME BECAUSE HOW DID HE PICK THE SAME ELECTIVES

and today his hand like touched mine — that’s like nothing but BRO ,, ever his hands are perfect ?? like they’re really soft and not overly hot/warm or cold 😩😩

but like it happened because i was trying to reach someone this stacks of books for their team and i was like “oh these are for you” because i noticed the name on it but my crush thought i was talking to him and reached for them — but like eeeeeeeeee got me squealing over two seconds and shii

and i feel kinda bad because i said “no, not you, him” AND IVE JUST BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT — IT WAS EXTREMELY TOO BLUNT BECAUSE I WAS STILL A LITTLE SHOCKED/ ON THE VERGE OF SMILING MY FACE OFF FROM HIS HAND LITERALLY TOUCHING MINE

like there is no way, even if i was reaching you the books — you had to grab my hand like that 👀 — not complaining tho 🤪🤪 BUT STILL I THINK I SHOULDVE SAID IT BETTER IDK ??

#but i don’t think he felt any way abt because we were supposed to like get in normal partner groups later on and i planned on ‘accidentally’#partnering with him but this random person came to my first and i didn’t wanna be mean — but when i like turned to look at him again it #was giving … bro idek — like he wanted to be my partner just as much as i wanted to be his #idk… like this is the first crush i’ve ever had where the feelings are feeling a little more reciprocated #i can’t believe this boy is making me smile myself to sleep 😕#me; being absolutely love sick.

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chairismaticchair · 4 years

Text

Star Crossed Enemies

Happy Holidays @yellowartistsunshine ! @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Summary: When two rival theatre majors get cast as the leads in "Romeo and Juliet", something blossoms between them. Something beautiful.

This is Roceit, there are some swears. I had lots of fun writing this, especially since this was my first roceit fic!

If Roman despised a single person in the world with all his body and soul, that would be Janus Taylor. He hated how snagging lead roles in plays and musicals always became a fight between them. He hated how smug Janus constantly acted. He hated his stupidly posh accent that was only really obvious when he was on stage performing Shakespeare. He hated how he couldn't have any straight (not that it was possible with Roman any other way) or slightly logical conversation with Janus. He hated him, from the tip of his dumb black beanie, to the soles of his beige loafers. Overall, he hated Janus.

Whenever they passed in the college, there would be a flurry of middle fingers and middle-school-grade insults like "shit head" and "dumbass" thrown about with as much malice as two theatre majors could. They seemed to lose all common sense when in the mere vicinity of each other, instead becoming caricatures of theatre rivals. Arguably, that was exactly what they were.

"Taylor." Roman spat out. "I heard the LGBTQ+ Club's putting up another play soon. Suppose you're going to want the lead role. But it's mine." He declared, as if no one had expected Roman Diaz Santos to want the lead role.

Decei - shit sorry, Janus hissed back. "I heard it's gonna be Shakespeare, and guess who always gets Shakespeare roles? Me. Shithead." He added the “shithead” as an afterthought, as if this was his first rivalry and he had almost forgotten rule #315 of the Rivalry Book of Rivals.

They then tossed each other middle fingers like mutual salutes and marched off, heads held up high and refusing to turn back.

"Man, Janus really is a dick isn't he?" Roman complained to his best friend Virgil Teo, who sighed.

"Yes, Roman. Just like the -" He pulled out a notebook and made a little mark. "534 other times you've told me. This year. I don't even know what's that bad about him."

"Well of course you don't get it. You two dated freshman year. Honestly, I thought you had better taste."

"And I do. That's why we broke up." Virgil slapped Roman's shoulder playfully. "Who are you to insult my dating life? You haven't had a single date since the start of college."

"I've had dates." Roman protested.

"Bad dates, Princey. Those don't count. Maybe you could send it to the Guinness World Records."

Roman gasped in mock annoyance. "How dare you, Virgil.” He gave a wistful sigh. “Anyways, I just want to find my soulmate. They’re out there, I can just feel it. A Juliet or Julien to my Romeo.”

"You're always are full of bullshit, aren't you, Roman?"

---

Patton, a senior, walked up to the front of the leture theatre and tapped the teacher on the shoulder. He whispered something in her ear and the teacher sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose frustratedly. "Hi! The LGBTQ+ Club is putting up two Shakespeare plays for this November! The first one will be a gay Romeo and Juliet, called Romeo and Julien. The other will be a sapphic 'Much Ado about Nothing'. Audition sign ups start next week Monday and end on Friday! Thank you!" Patton was very chirpy for 8 a.m. .

Now, this was when shit hit the fan and our story gets exciting. Roman turned to Virgil enthusiastically. "I'm totally auditioning for Romeo." Meanwhile, all students in the near vicinity who wanted Romeo's role sighed in unison.

Across the lecture theatre, Janus turned to his friend Remus excitedly. "I'm auditioning for Julien! This is gonna be great."

"For fucks sake." Someone in the near vicinity groaned and his friend patted his back sympathetically.

---

Roman sat outside the auditorium, swinging his feet while waiting for his turn to audition. Walking down the corridor, Janus turned to Roman and picked up the chair beside him. He moved 6 feet away and plopped the chair down.

"So, Santos." He started, staring intensely at the auditorium door.

Roman found his shoes absolutely riveting. "Yeah?"

"What role are you auditioning for?"

Tapping the side of his chair, Roman said, "The lead one, obviously."

"Oh." Janus paused and turned to look directly at Roman. Sticking out his hand, he gave him a slight smile. "Well may the best one win."

Roman took the hand hesitantly. "Yeah Janus. Break a leg."

---

The large board outside the auditorium was a crowd favourite among students. It was constantly updated with rehearsal times, casting choices and upcoming performances, you know, the classic cool stuff.

Roman and Janus were the first to arrive at the board and glanced at each other before looking down the corridor with longing.

A boy with big circular wire framed glasses bounded down the corridor, an A4 paper in his hand. He waved excitedly at the two in front of him. "Hi Roman! Hi Janus! Waiting for results?"

The two nodded in synchronisation.

"Oh, well I got them here!" He got out a stapler and stapled the paper to the board, the sleeves of his turquoise hoodie large and dangly.

Romeo: Roman Diaz Santos

Julien: Janus Taylor

The two boys turned to each other in horror.

"Y - you mean -"

"You thought-"

"Julien."

"Romeo."

"WAS THE LEAD ROLE?"

The boy, Patton, looked at them in amusement. "Well, you both got main roles, so congrats! Rehearsals start in two weeks and I'll give you guys your scripts tomorrow. Have fun!"

He patted them both on the back before heading off, skip in his step.

Janus and Roman turned to look at each other in horror once more.

---

There is a moment in one's life, where they will reflect on everything they have done, and wonder what mistakes they had made to lead them down this path. As Roman flipped through the script Patton had handed him, that was exactly what he was doing. "You mean to say, I have to kiss this - this snake 5 times? Outrageous. Unacceptable."

They sat in a circle, everyone who participated in the play knee against knee. It was far too close for comfort and Roman was probably going to vomit onto the rest of the cast.

Virgil, who was in charge of lights and sound and sitting next to him, smirked. "Princey, this is literally a play about you two in love. 5 kisses are the minimum."

"And I am right here, you know." Janus looked slightly offended, leaning over and looking at Roman, who was a Virgil away. "And I'm not that bad at kissing. Ask Virgil. "

Virgil choked.

Before Roman could retort, Patton interrupted them. "Okay guys! Don't forget to practice your lines. Rehearsals start in two weeks so I hope you manage to memorise some of your lines."

As they left the auditorium, Roman whispered to Virgil. "Is Janus actually good at kissing?"

Virgil just shrugged.

Patton called after the leaving group. "Roman? Janus? Please get whatever feud is going on between you two and throw it away. You two need to cooperate so that we can all work together. Go bond over the next few days. Thanks!”

Bond? With Janus? Roman never wanted to hear those words in the same sentence ever again. There was an odd creeping feeling that grew in his stomach and crawled up his throat invasively. It was foreign and weird. Maybe an allergic reaction.

“Oy! Janus! We probably have to - to get to know each other better.” Roman could feel heat spreading from his toes all the way to his cheeks. Why was he blushing? He should not be blushing. “So, do you wanna go grab some food tonight?”

Janus’ eyes widened and he physically stepped back. He pointed at Roman, before pointing back at himself. “You? Offering me? Dinner?”

Roman shot a wink at Janus cheekily, before turning around to hide his blush. What was he doing? He never flirted with his rival. Was that even flirting? Tugging his hair down in a pitiful attempt to hide his burning red ears, he turned to Virgil.

Virgil wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, before elbowing Roman in the side. “Stepping up your game, Santos? Impressive.”

Roman blushed even harder, and looked away.

---

Roman had had his fair share of dates, if that was what you called a dinner like this, and he never knew what to say. He pulled out his best card.

“So...ya like jazz?”

Janus choked on his iced lemon tea. "Fucking Bee Movie?”

“Well, you do wear black and yellow 80% of the time, so you clearly like bees. Ergo, Bee Movie.”

An eyebrow was raised. “Impressive. You almost sound as smart as Logan.”

“I wish. He’s an absolute genius.” Logan was studying law, would probably become the valedictorian, and was dating Patton. Truly a legend.

“What’s your favourite animated movie then?” Janus asked. “Mine certainly is not the Bee Movie. There are loads of better Dreamworks films. I love Megamind."

“Oh, Megamind is really good! Choosing a favourite… that’s so hard though!” Roman bounced in his seat. Another movie lover? Perhaps, Janus wasn't too bad.

Janus laughed and the food must have been tainted or something, because Roman’s heart skipped several beats.

---

“Right! Let’s start at Act 1, Scene 5. You guys are at the party and this is when Romeo meets Julien for the first time. Action.” Patton, perched on the edge of a chair, announced, eyes shining with excitement.

Roman glanced over at Janus, clad in a hoodie and jeans. He was flipping through his script and mumbling lines to himself. It was their first rehearsal so they were still allowed to look at their scripts. It also happened to be their first kiss scene. Pink tinted Roman's cheeks at the thought. Kiss… Janus? The two words seemed so foreign next to each other, yet they felt as though they were meant to be. He couldn't stop his eyes lingering over Janus' light pink lips. He turned away quickly, glancing at his script. Romeo kisses Julien.

Romeo.

Kisses.

Julien.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the people on stage, waiting for his cue. He had to stop thinking so much. Thoughts were dangerous. Who knows where they may lead?

Roman wondered what Janus' lips tasted like.

Oh for fucks sake.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Roman shoved his face back into the script, mumbling his lines under his breath and waiting for his queue to come on stage.

Stepping onto the stage, he channeled Romeo Shakespearean thoughts. It was a little hard in his button up shirt and jeans, but he was a professional. “What lord is that which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?” He gestured towards Janus.

A server bowed politely. “I know not, sir.”

“Oh, he doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems he hangs upon the cheek of night. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear, beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows. As yonder lord o'er his fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch his place of stand. And, touching his, make blessèd my rude hand.” He spoke to the audience, but couldn’t help think about how accurate this was. Janus too, was really hot.

Roman spoke some more about how hot Julien was, and the rest of the rehearsal was a blur. He wasn’t Roman anymore. In front of this audience? He was Romeo, a rich lovestruck teenager.

Then suddenly, he found himself staring into Janus’ eyes, and he was Roman all over again.

Janus’ eyes, a deep, rich brown that gave Roman a steady look, pierced into Roman’s heart. He spoke towards the audience, but he sounded so genuine and sincere as he uttered his lines. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

Roman gave Janus a soft smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned in and brushed Janus’ lips. It was hesitant, and soft, and he could hear Janus' quiet gasp, as if he wasn't expecting it. It was barely a kiss, more like a peck, but Roman could feel heat rushing into his cheeks. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” He said, loud enough for the audience to hear him.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took?” Janus cocked his head to the side, looking far more innocent and coy than Roman had ever seen him behave before.

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” This time, Janus stood on tiptoes and kissed him. A proper kiss that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and Roman wanted to stay like that forever and ever. The scent of Janus' cologne made him giddy and he took Janus' hands, pulling him closer. On one hand, they were playing parts in a play, and on the other hand, everything felt oh so real, from the hoodie toggles that tickled his button up shirt to Janus' soft fingers gripping his hands tightly.

When they finally pulled away, Roman gazed at Janus' shining brown eyes in what must have been a lovestruck expression. He found his Julien.

---

"You BITCH!" Virgil slapped the study table violently.

"What did I do?"

"1 year. 1 fucking year of you making fun of me falling for a white guy and here you are, falling for the exact same white guy." Virgil looked vaguely irritated. "Even my mom was like," He put his hand at his ear like a phone and did an exaggerated Chinese accent. "Aiyah ah boy, I know you like boys, but an angmoh gao is too too much already. But don't worry lah, 4 months is not long, you still can leave him.” Do you even know what that means, you ass?”

He suddenly burst out in laughter. "This is great, it's my turn to poke fun." He rubbed his hands together excitedly. "What was the kiss like? Was it...spicy?"

"Weren't you there?"

"Yeah, but I want a personal recount. Actually, no. Give me the P.E.E.L. format. Point, evidence, example and link on Janus' kissing skills. Go."

"Oh, er. Janus was a… good kisser?" Roman didn't kiss much. "Um, point. His hair is all fluffy and I feel it brushing against my forehead, which gives me butterflies and this warm tingly sensation that ran through my body and gave me goosebumps. And he makes this noise whenever we kiss that is so cute, he honestly sounds genuinely surprised whenever it happens, even though we're following a script. And his cologne smells so good, oh my god I need to get the brand name, it's like kinda ashy, but not quite and it was a bit light, like a nice stroll in a forest. Holy shit it smelled nice. And-"

Virgil raised an eyebrow and paused Roman's tangent. "He wore cologne? He never wears cologne."

"Oh." Roman's eyes widened.

"Maybe…" Virgil wiggled his eyebrows. "He wore it for the kiss scene."

The heat that decided to congregate on Roman's cheeks was undeniable. "Why - why would he do that?"

"He likes you, ya dumbass. And he wanted to impress you, so he decided that hoodie plus beanie plus cologne was a good combo."

Roman stared at his feet. "It was."

Virgil stood up and patted Roman on the head comfortingly. "There, there, it's alright. White guys aren't all that bad."

"Oh fuck off."

Virgil bowed and shot Roman the finger. Truly a man of eloquence and class. Roman opened a picture on his phone from his date with Janus. Janus was smiling, and Roman could feel himself smiling too as he looked at the picture of Janus. Of his Julien.

#secret santa #sanders sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #ts #thomas sanders

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

Text

Love Me Roughly: Letting Her In

Pairing: Snape x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,113

Rating: M for Mature

Plot: Severus can’t believe the state of his new life. In a matter of days all his troubles are able to melt away and stay forgotten, replaced by joy and happiness.

A/N: This is part 4 of 7 for the week 1 schedule for Snape Appreciation Month! @snapeloveposts

DISCLAIMER: I have edited (drawn over the original) the artwork (taken from a 80′s bodice ripper novel) for the purpose of this short series and will post more information about the original work here.

Posted: 6/4/20

Chapter List

<– Last Chapter Next Chapter –>

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

The sun was setting, and the bedroom was getting darker, like the windows were slowly shutting their eyes as night approached, the light grew feinter and less of it could be seen on the opposite wall. The birds were back in their nests and sang soft tunes that could put any insomniac straight to sleep. Softer yet were the slow breaths of the woman in Severus’ arms as she napped.

It had been an hour since they had decided to become intimate – each being each other’s stranger – which had lasted for a good two maybe three hours, he wasn’t sure, in its entirety – foreplay and all. He smiled remembering how it all went down, everything that led to him laying on his back, relaxed, with a beautiful woman in his arms.

The only regret he had was opening the window during the most heated moment because he knew he would eventually need to close it as it got colder. He wanted not to move and just stay in bed with her asleep, even if it was for just one night.

I doubt she’d ever want to see me again… Now that it’s all over and done… He had never allowed himself to go beyond one night with anyone, knowing it just wouldn’t work out with his missions and all the dangers of it… not that anyone had wanted to continue anything afterwards. They normally just got up and left, whether he was asleep or not.

His lids began to droop and he figured he’d give in and close his eyes. If he fell asleep she’d be gone by morning and his new life would simply continue. He was so tired he couldn’t hold on to the moment any longer. He tried turning but his arm was caught under her body, trapping him in an embrace with her as she snoozed with her hands to her cheeks by his ear.

He allowed himself to continue enjoying her company under the sheets and placed his trapped hand on her side and pulled himself closer, closing his eyes and going to sleep.

. . .

Severus turned and realized he was no longer trapped on his back. He turned back and saw the bed was empty and the spot where she had been was as cold as the dungeon floors. He shivered and realized the whole room felt cold. The window. He got up and ran to the window, but it was stuck and a gust of air was now blowing in, making him jump away.

WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES! He was still naked and the room was covered in complete darkness. He reached around the floor until he felt something soft and tugged it closer; it was his long coat. He slid it on and realized it didn’t cover anything below his waist. He growled and shrugged it back off.

He stepped closer to where he knew the bed was and reached out for the bed sheets, pulling them off and wrapping them around his body to shield him from the cold. “Lumos,” he whispered and looked around, hoping his wand would shine in his room. Still downstairs. She could have brought it up for me before she left. He made his way across the room and opened the door.

He could see light down in the kitchen, At least I know my wand’s still here. He gripped the sheets tighter and headed down the wood spiral stairs, but it wasn’t just his wand that was giving off light… it was also dozens of candles.

“Sorry – ”

Severus jumped and turned to the woman walking out of the joint laundry and bathroom behind the stairs, drying her hands. Is that my…?

“I hope you didn’t think I’d just bail after – after everything,” she smiled.

She’s wearing my shirt. That’s my undershirt.

“And as a thank you,” she laughed, “I got us some dinner… if you’d like to share it with me.”

Is she only wearing my undershirt?

She coughed and Severus tore his eyes away from the sheer white undershirt he normally wore under his waistcoat and nodded.

He looked down at himself, “I-er- the window was open and I couldn’t see…”

“Oh! Here,” she picked up several tall thin candles and placed them in his hand. “I summoned them from my basement. You should place them upstairs.”

He nodded a ‘thank you’ and picked up his wand, heading back upstairs into his bedroom. He closed the door and placed candles on the windowsill and nightstand and lit them. He pointed his wand and forced the window shut, stopping the cold breeze from invading, and looked around for his underpants and trousers.

She was wearing his shirt so he couldn’t wear the waistcoat which meant he’d have to settle for the muggle sweater in his trunk. After he was dressed, he made his way back down and noticed there was a small pot with stew in the center.

The woman dried two bowls and placed them on the table. Severus couldn’t help but watch her, eyes gleaming with approval after observing that she was indeed wearing something bright blue and lacey under his shirt. She winked at him as she headed up the stairs, giving him full view of it.

He bit his lip and turned away, paying attention instead to the stew and wondering where she had gotten it and the pot from, though he guessed she could have easily popped into her home and back for what she needed.

He heard a bark and noticed the little dog she carried with her everywhere was still around and by the looks of it happily relaxing in the other room. He waved at him awkwardly and sat down at the table.

She came down, though she had apparently not gotten dressed in her own clothes. Her hair was neater, and he realized she had gone to tidy up for him. He blushed and stood up from his chair until she had sat, and he took his chair again.

“Comfortable?” he smirked.

She gave him a teasing smile, “Very.”

She ladled soup into their bowls and they ate in comfortable silence. He looked around for any clocks in the kitchen, wondering what the time was.

“It’s passed ten if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Severus smiled, “I’m used to clocks everywhere and a schedule.”

“Oh?” She smiled and set down her spoon, “Hmm, what an interesting clue.”

He arched his brow, “What’s the point in guessing? It’s not like we can get to know each other…”

She dropped her eyes to her hands and fidgeted. She gave a quiet laugh and looked back up at him, “I suppose if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

If I don’t want to? He thought over her words and wondered if he was hearing her correctly. Could she want more than a night with him? The dinner afterwards would make more sense if that were the case… though there was a reason wizards weren’t supposed to give out their names to Relocators. The Ministry pays quite handsomely for runaways from Relocators, seeing as it’s illegal to feign death and disappear. Of course, the same applies for Relocators since the whole business is forbidden.

Though she doesn’t seem… He finished his soup and stood up, placing the bowl in the sink.

“I’m not asking for information, I’m sorry… I was joking about that. What I meant was…” she bit her lip and stepped around the table, playing with the collar of his shirt she wore as she walked towards him. “I’d like to find myself in your bed again,” she winked.

He smiled, “Is this how you treat every wizard you relocate?”

She scoffed and moved away, clearly offended.

He shook his head, “I-it came out wrong…” He touched her arm and pulled her back, “I guess I was just wondering if it was something about me or…”

Her face lifted and her eyes smiled once more, “Something about you… I’m not saying I’ve never – ” she laughed and looked away, “But I’ve never with a stranger until now.”

He felt a sort of flutter in his stomach at her words. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let me into your bed tonight?” She stood on her toes and kissed his lips, “And I’ll repay your kindness tomorrow morning.”

She winked again and he laughed. He kissed her back, enjoy the mysterious girl in his arms and her surprising charm. He wasn’t sure what could come of letting a stranger into his life and letting her stay a stranger, but he knew he didn’t have much to worry about at the moment.

The Dark Lord was gone, he was supposed dead, the Ministry would be worried about the school and the Deatheaters who had stayed on the Dark Lord’s side, and he knew he had packed nothing to even hint at his name or who he was.

And unless this girl was better at the dark arts than him, his trunk would remain sealed unless opened by him personally. The only thing he didn’t quite care for was the dog. He looked over at it as he ran around trying to bite at floating dust.

“I don’t see why not… But must your dog come with?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes and led her towards the stairs by her hand. She grabbed her wand on the way and followed him up, giggling as he unbuttoned his pants while climbing the stairs. He opened the door and pulled her through roughly, grabbing her and hoisting her up, pinning her against the wall in one quick and needy motion.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him harder than before. He set her down and moved her towards the bed as he took out his wand and undid all his buttons at once.

“It’s a good thing the stew was fairly light,” she laughed and slid off his shirt.

He stepped out of his trousers and removed his sweater and threw it behind him, mindful of the candles, and pushed her down. He knelt by the bed and leaned over her, biting on the light blue fabric and pulled it down with his teeth.

She moaned as the fabric slid away and he climbed over her, kissing along her body until he reached her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, running her hand along his neck and back, encouraging everything he did.

Severus found it hard not to smile while they kissed. He found it hard to keep composed, because all he wanted to do was laugh and smile at the situation he found himself in. Third day free and he could hardly believe this was his life already. All those years locked away, restricted, imprisoned, under strict orders and vigilance, all those years had just melted away in a matter of days. Everything was done and buried, and he didn’t have to talk about it or think about it. And she wouldn’t ask. His life could just… start.

“Are you ok?”

He realized there were tears rolling down his cheek and he tried pulling away, but she held him close to her. He turned away and cursed himself for just ruining everything with his frustrating emotions and feelings.

“Are you sad?”

He looked back at her, “No… I just…”

She smiled and kissed at a tear, “Let’s continue, then.”

She kissed more of his tears away and he continued enjoying her. She pulled the sheet up to cover their bodies better and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, moaning. He tucked his face in her neck and went slow, enjoying her body and letting his freedom truly sink in.

She held him close and he closed his eyes, glad for her company. He moaned and kissed her neck, biting at her skin, hoping she’d decide to stay the next night as well. He wouldn’t mind her help unpacking and especially not if the next night involved more of this. He felt her nails dig into his back and he let out a deep moan, picking up the pace as her moans got louder.

His tears were replaced by sweat and his strange emotions by sweet and sudden ecstasy. She pulled on his hair hard and the euphoria overtook his body like an enchantment. It crashed on him like a wave and the retreat was slow, and pleasant. He was unable to do anything more than pant and moan as it washed away.

She kissed his neck and wiped his hair from his sweaty face, “You really know how to treat a lady.”

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

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#pro snape #severus snape #severus #snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus x reader #severus x you #snape x reader #snape x you #snape x fem!reader #snapedom #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snapeloveposts #snape appreciation month #snape appreciation month 2020

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verai-marcel · 4 years

Text

The Things That We Could Be (Charles x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+, 1 of 3)

Summary: You’re a freelance writer, trying to bust into the world of journalism. While the local paper gives you a few assignments here and there, you’re looking to catch a big break. When you start sniffing around one of the local motorcycle clubs, you find more than you can handle, and it leads you to discovering secrets about the owner of your favorite cafe, a man with warm brown eyes and the kindest smile.

Author’s Notes: This story has been in my head for a while. Hope you like it. Also disclaimer: I did some light research on motorcycle clubs, but I really don’t know a whole lot about them, so this may come off as pretty generic. That’s fine, we’re here for the Charles smut, amirite? Also, can you guess what song I took the title of this fic from?

Tags: plot, drama, violence, cheesy 80s vibe, bathroom sex, doggy style, smut, romance

AO3 Link is here, sweetie.

Word Count: 2567

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Chapter 1 - New Girl in Town

“C’mere Natasha,” you cooed at the calico cat that had walked towards you as soon as you had entered the cat area of Crafty Cats. This cat café was your haven, your home away from home, ever since you had moved to this area two months ago. Pursuing your career of news journalism, you worked for a local paper, hoping to get enough experience to break news left and right. It was the hunt for the story that drove you; the search for truth kept you going even when your boss cut your articles time and again. You dreamed of one day crafting the words that would move hearts around the world.

But for now, with your crushing student debt, you settled for any job that would keep you afloat. Even though this town was small and relatively quiet, there were still stories to be told. Pulling out your laptop, you started typing away as Natasha leapt into your lap, curled herself into a ball, and purred loudly. Patting her absentmindedly as you hemmed and hawed over your word choices, a soft chime of the bells tied to the door heralded another visitor.

"Your hour is almost up."

You looked up at Charles, the owner of the café. His long black hair was loosely tied up in a queue, but shaved on either side of his head. Tendrils too short to be tied back fell around his face, framing a strong jaw and a gentle smile.

And that voice? Ooh, it was like sinking into a hot bath. You could listen to him talk all day.

Unable to stop yourself, you pouted. "Already? It feels like I just got here."

Charles laughed softly before looking through the large window that separated the cat area from the café. Then he turned to you and placed a finger to his lips, winking at you.

"Maybe you still have another thirty minutes left," he said with a smile. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

You grinned. "You're the best, Charles."

He just shyly shrugged as he began to reach down toward Natasha. He paused, looking at you for permission to get closer. "May I?"

"Of course," you said, leaning back to give him room. He gently pet Natasha's head, a smile on his face as she lifted her head to rub against his palm.

You envied the cat so much at that moment.

With Charles so close, you could see the profile of his face, so beautiful to you, and the lines of scars on his cheek and jawline told a story that filled you with a burning curiosity. You wanted to ask, but you also got the feeling that it would be overstepping some boundary and the warm aura that surrounded him would disappear.

So you swallowed your questions and continued to watch him pet Natasha for a few more moments. When he got up, he looked at you, almost as if he was going to pet you next. Or maybe it was just you projecting your fantasies onto him. He walked away, heading out the door and entering the cafe again. You looked through the window and watched him talk to the barista who was working at the bar, and then he headed through the back door, presumably to do manager things.

You turned back to your laptop. He had given you an extra 30 minutes. Better make them count.

***

“I thought you quit smokin’.”

Charles shrugged as Arthur came up to stand next to him, leaning against the back wall of the cat café. It had been a long day, and even though he rarely smoked anymore, today just seemed like that kind of day. He took a long drag, blowing out the smoke slowly as he looked up at the crimson sky.

“Who’s the girl?”

Charles turned to look at Arthur, an eyebrow raised incredulously. “How’d you know?”

Arthur chuckled. “You used to smoke a lot whenever you had your eye on someone.”

Charles let out a short laugh. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Nah, I’ve just known you long enough.”

Charles smiled as he put out the rest of his cigarette. “She’s a writer. Watching her work in my café… It’s nice.”

“You goin’ to make a move then?”

Charles turned to him, a wry grin on his face. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

***

You were packing up your laptop just as you saw Charles and another man come through the back door. It was sunset on a Saturday, and Charles always shut the cafe down early on Saturday nights to give him and his barista a break. Spotting the barista grin as she saw the other man, you were suddenly intrigued by the way they looked at each other, a heat to their grins as she reached for him, pulling him close. He kissed her forehead gently, his head tilting to one side slightly to gaze at her, and you felt as if you were watching a much more intimate moment. Heat flooded your cheeks as you quickly looked away, continuing to pack.

Once you had everything put away in your laptop bag, you moved to get up, but a small paw attached itself to your leg.

“Sorry Nattie, I can’t stay.”

The calico meowed and dug her claws in.

The door opened and closed. You could hear Charles laughing softly. “She really likes you.”

You managed to pry Natasha’s claws out of your pants and stepped out of the way before she batted at you again. “I’d adopt her if I could, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

Charles nodded. “I understand. Arthur over there is in the same situation,” he said, nodding towards the man who was now holding the door for the barista as they exited the cafe. Arthur looked up and waved goodbye with two fingers as Charles waved back the same way.

He looked back at you. “If you ever move into an apartment that can have pets, you’ll have to fight him for her,” he joked. “Natasha only likes the two of us and Arthur.”

Your shoulders sank. You were stuck in a 6 month lease for the only place you could afford, a dinky studio apartment in the next town over. “It’ll be a long time before I can move,” you lamented.

Charles stepped closer to you. His concern was pouring out in waves; when you had told him during a previous visit about where you lived, he had immediately told you to go home while the sun was still out. You were still trying to figure out what places were safe and what places weren’t, and when he had talked about how the motorcycle club in that area had a tendency to harass new people to the town, you started to keep up your guard and to play it safe, getting home before dark and locking the door. So far, so good.

But you were also curious about this motorcycle club; were they really as bad as Charles said they were? He was just a cafe owner, what would he know about this? Had they threatened him in the past?

Your train of thought stopped when he placed his hand on your shoulder. His warmth was inviting, his touch was gentle. You wondered for a split second how it would feel to have his hands all over your body.

“Charles?”

“Just… stay safe, alright?” He looked away for a moment, thinking over something before looking back at you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Alright,” you said, a little breathy. “Thank you.”

As if your heartbeat wasn’t erratic before, the smile that bloomed on his face made your cheeks warm and your breath quicken. You nodded at him and headed for the door, trying to hide how he was making you feel.

But as you walked past him, his hand brushed the small of your back, and he quickly caught up with you so he could hold the door open like a gentleman. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

***

Back at your place, you took a deep breath. You were going to do this. You were going to start investigating the local motorcycle club.

***

A week had passed. While you were churning out articles for websites and the local paper, you were also asking around about the MC. Most people just knew to steer clear of them, that if you didn’t bother them, they didn’t bother you. Some suggested you stop investigating them, to stop sticking your nose where it shouldn’t go. But of course, you couldn’t do that. You wanted to know what they were about, what was their motive.

Some men wanted power & money. Others just wanted to watch the world burn.

You were hoping it wasn’t the latter.

***

A banging on your door woke you up late at night. Startled, you grabbed the metal baseball bat near your bed and slowly walked towards the door, only for it to suddenly burst open.

Three big, burly men poured into your doorway, the light outside making their silhouettes even larger.

“Heard you been askin’ about us.”

You swallowed.

One of them walked up to you. You swung your bat.

He dodged it and grabbed it, pulling it easily from your grip. “We don’t want to hurt you, baby. Unless you keep asking about us.”

“Why?” you asked. It was the first thing out of your mouth, and once you asked, the rest came out. “Why is this town so afraid of you?”

One of the other men stepped forward and grabbed you by the throat as you tried to step away. You clawed at his arm, but he was strong as steel, his fingers digging into your neck.

“We don’t owe you an explanation, lady,” he said. “Stop askin’ about us.”

“Or else,” the third man threatened.

You hated being told what to do. But you saw the danger in your situation. You clamped down on your urge to question them. It’d be hard to write a news story if you were in a hospital. Or dead.

So you kept your mouth shut and stared them down.

“You goin’ to stop?”

You nodded, just to get him to let you go.

The man let you go, pushing you backwards with a hard shove. You staggered back, but stayed on your feet.

“Don’t think about calling the cops,” the leader said, taking a practice swing with your bat. “They can’t protect you all the time.”

Then he swung the bat into your TV, smashing it into bits. Tossing the bat onto the ground, he and others laughed as they walked out the door and into the cold, dark night. As they left, you caught the symbol on their jackets: in large letters, ODB written across the top, with a green skull inside of a four-leaf clover below it. The letters MC were on the right of the symbol.

It was the O’Driscoll Boys.

You fell to your knees, shaken and scared, but also filled with an all-encompassing anger, burning-hot and laced with frustration.

You had a feeling you weren’t the only one who had dealt with this. And you also had a feeling that you couldn’t stay here while you investigated further. As if this was going to stop you.

You just had to find another way.

***

You stared at apartment listings, trying to figure out a new place to stay. Unfortunately, so many things were outside of your budget. Maybe if you skipped a meal every other day?

“Tell me what happened.”

You blinked and looked at Charles, who had managed to sit next to you without you realizing. You were so deep into your house hunt that you hadn’t paid attention to what was around you. Perhaps it was because you felt safe here.

Perhaps it was because Charles was here that you felt safe.

He slowly reached for you, his fingers touching your shoulder. “Who hurt you?” he asked, gentler this time.

You reached up to your throat; your scarf had slipped down a bit, revealing the bruises around your neck. Looking down, you answered him in a soft voice. “The ODB MC.”

“Fuck.”

You looked up quickly. He had spoken with such hard anger that you were surprised to hear it from him.

You took a deep breath and told him what had happened last night.

At the end of your story, he took your hand in his big ones, making you feel small, but protected in his grasp.

“Do you have a friend you can stay with? You can’t stay there, it isn’t safe.”

You shrugged. “Not really.” The few friends you had lived far away. Family was far away too. You were stuck.

He squeezed your hand. “Stay with me. I can sleep on the couch, but I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

You blinked. He was offering his room for you? “Charles, I couldn't impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Please.”

Looking at his serious face, you nodded, accepting his offer. You had the feeling that if you refused, he was going to pick you up right there and then and keep you in his room anyway. There was an intensity to his protectiveness that stirred your heart, made you want him to lock you away.

He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll help you when you’re done here.”

***

That afternoon, he had his barista hold down the fort while he helped you pack up some of your essentials; you weren’t planning on staying with him for more than a week, but he let you know that you were welcome to stay for as long as you needed to.

You had told your landlord that your place had been broken into and that the lock would need to be fixed. When he saw your bashed-in TV, he said nothing, solidifying your theory that he had turned a blind eye to the MC when they had walked through here. He knew, and he wasn’t going to do anything about it, which pissed you off even more.

***

Charles carried your two duffel bags full of your stuff up the stairs in the back of the cafe to his apartment. On the way to his place, he had told you a little more about the downtown area where he and his friends lived and worked. One of his friends, John, was happily married with a daughter and owned a flower shop close to the clock tower that served as the town center. His other friend, Arthur, worked at the local tattoo shop, but lived elsewhere. A lot of the businesses in the renovated part of downtown were live-work spaces, so Charles had his little loft apartment above his cafe.

“Makes the commute pretty nice,” you remarked as you followed him up the stairs.

“Yup. Have to be sure to at least put a shirt on though, or I get yelled at,” he said with a laugh. He had mentioned his barista was like a little sister to him, and that he was lucky to have her. He mentioned having put the idea in her head to go out with Arthur, and was happy they had gotten together. You wondered at his observation skills, to see to the heart of someone and what would make them happy.

Would you make me happy?

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Chapter 2 is next!

Tagging @mrscharlessmith @fangirl-ramblings @eeeasyguuurl

#Charles Smith #charles x fem!reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #biker au #writing #fanfic #modern au #lemon fanfic #nsft

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tkhoshiwritesanddraws · 4 years

Text

This Is Bad || Levi Ackerman X Reader || AU AOT Fanfiction

Summary: Student (F/n) (L/n)'s sense of admiration soon becomes infatuation for the seemingly cold-hearted Sir Levi Ackerman. And it should have stayed that way until he starts going to her part-time job every night to see the person he assumes her to be. With her entire life in jeopardy, can she keep up these unrequited feelings?

Genre: Eventual Romance, mentions of bullying, traumatic pasts

Warning: This is not a one shot.

____

(F/n) (L/n) - First name Last name

(U/n) - Undercover name

(e/c) - eye color

(h/c) - hair color

The day was as uneventfully thick and bright. He used to long for such light, but seeing it over and over just felt irritating now. He sighed. A deep, long, and heavy exhale lightened the ache in his back. He leaned against his chair and looked over the scene before him.

It was nearly four in the afternoon- a few minutes left before he was free to rest. For half an hour. Then he was going to check on the brats‘ essays, which he hoped was given at least two shits about. Another heavy sigh slipped past his lips at the thought of checking shitty essays. Again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing full well that it was going to happen. Especially with students that knows only how to talk and not write. It was their senior year- you would think that they’d actually pull their heads out of their asses.

“Sir Ackerman, are you alright?” His tired, silver eyes shot up from his desk and met the piercing, kind (e/c) eyes. (F/n) (L/n). She wasn’t a well-known student- rather the opposite.

He remained quiet and stretched out his hand for the paper in her hand. He saw the hesitation in her eyes, but then she reluctantly passed the test to him. Just then the bell rang and one after another, students stood up.

“I can…” Levi paused from his movement to stand up to look at (F/n). His brow raised at the jittering girl. “…take the papers, if you don’t mind, Sir?”

He paused for a brief moment. But he saw the genuine glow in her eyes. “Be my guest.” He waved her off and took a relaxing seat back. He watched her bounce from one empty desk to another, picking up the papers that were left behind.

(F/n) was one of the students he could actually stand. Aside from some others- she just looked true and real to him. He had just transferred last year and knew that he was one of the teachers that students would bet on be the worst, yet she kept trying to get on his good side.

Which luckily for her was working. Her company felt soothing and eased up his stress. He’d rather relax in his seat than go over the same rows of desks for the fifth time of the day.

“(L/n), don’t you prefer being with other students at this time of day? Or resting at your home?”

These were the words that were still stuck in his throat for the past three weeks since the first semester started. He felt the rush of heat spread across his cheeks and he was damned to let a student know that he was affected a bit too much.

So, instead, he prepared a snack for her. He had seen her eat it a few times at the cafeteria- the cursed, germ-filled cafeteria. He pulled the snack out from his bag. It was a (favorite snack). It wasn’t one he loathed, but it wasn’t one he loved either.

Now, if only he can give it to her discretely-

“Sir, what’s that you have over there?” Levi slammed the snack back into his bag and snapped his neck at her. The stack of test papers was laid neatly on his desk and (F/n) was standing just across him.

Why was he acting like an adolescent? It was just a small gift. He gave gifts to people he found likeable.

“I just brought this for you.” He finally caved after five grueling minutes. He placed the snack just beside the papers and watched as the sparkles gleamed in her eyes. A joyful glee branched out from within him at her warm grin.

“Thank you so much, Sir!” She bowed at him. He noticed that she had looked down at her watch. It was 4:30 now. “I better get going. Thank you again, Sir! You should get going too!” She sprinted out before he even said anything.

He should have been irritated, but a chuckle slipped past his lips. He shook his head. (F/n) reminded him of Isabel during his high school days. It would be nice to be 18 again and not 23.

The night was dark and damp. The neon lights provided enough glow for her (e/c) eyes to see the building. It wasn’t as run down as she expected it to be and looked decent and clean enough. In actuality, she shouldn’t even be there but it was her last year anyway- so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?

She swallowed nervously while she glanced around the building. Round wooden tables were scattered about filled with huge burly strangers or press cleaned suited workers. Waltzing around were women who were either showing a lot of their skin or not at all. A single black apron with the name ‘Night Club’ covered their front, mostly enough to show some cleavage.

Standing on the only stage was a man dressed extravagantly who was singing an 80s song she wasn’t really familiar with. Dancing along with him were similar dressed men and women boldly dancing and showing lots and lots of skin.

And there she was, 5”0 and in her pajamas (a random t-shirt that hung over her small body, grey sweat pants, and sandals), standing in the midst of it all. Her fingers nervously tugged the tips of her (h/c) hair as her anxious eyes searched around the room. No one paved way to acknowledge her having their attention focused on the bright colored stage.

“Is that my adorable niece, (F/n) (L/n)?” Hearing her uncle’s nasally drunk voice sent the heaviness on her chest and nervous critters in her stomach away.

“Uncle Oluo, what took you so long?” She asked, placing a strand behind her ear. “And stop saying my name out loud. How would it make you feel if I called you Oluo Bazado with a room filled with strangers?” Her anxious eyes still surveyed the area where she noticed that some began to stare at her after her uncle’s rather loud introduction.

He waved his hand and slurped a beer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my ever-adorable niece! I had to take care of a drunk customer and kick him out the back after assaulting one of my workers.” (F/n) pursed her lips as her uncle’s arm made its way around her neck and began dragging her to the back room of the building.

Why couldn’t she have some of his height huh?

“Huh. No wonder you’re drinking. He got you pretty hard?” She chuckled at his poor excuse of a glare and rolled her eyes. “Am I going to be up front and be taking care of the big guys?” She straightened her back and punched her right palm in a lame attempt of looking tough. Of course, she knew didn’t look at all scary. She was 5”0 with a thin figure and puffy cheeks. She looked far too ‘frail’ and adorable (no quotation marks there because she is adorable. Period.).

Oluo laughed and shook his head. “Oh no, no, no. They’re just going to become more louder with you up front! You’re just going to be working behind the bar with Gunther. He’ll teach you everything you need to know about handing out drinks.”

(F/n) looked over where her uncle was pointing. There was a man handing out drinks from behind the counter. He had a weird tip at the back of his head, which must be his hair, though it looked sort of great on him. He was in a white formal shirt under a black vest from where she could see.

Can she even reach the counter????

“I already placed an extra flooring for you.” Her uncle said right before she could ask.

She scoffed, a light smile spreading across her face. “Of course, you did. If you hadn’t, I’d have no choice but be up front.”

Oluo laughed and patted her head. “I’m sure you can hold your own but I don’t want any more rough- housing than we already have here.”

(F/n) hummed. She knew that. Because of her small figure and all.

The man behind the counter noticed their approach and waved at them. “Good evening, Boss! And this must be my new co-worker.” His voice was thick and deep- much to be expected from his size. He grinned down at her and offered a hand. “My name is Gunther. You are?”

She stretched out her hand and shook his, offering a smile. “(F/n), but I’ll be going with (U/n). ‘Boss’ filled you in about that right?” She tilted her head to her uncle and Gunther nodded.

“Yep, to the brim too. He doesn’t stop chatting about you and your cousin.”

She looked up at her uncle and rolled her eyes to look back at Gunther. “Of course. That’s him. He doesn’t shut up about this place too.” She resisted the urge to glower at Oluo. “No matter how many times I told him to stop.”

Gunther laughed and patted Oluo on the shoulder. “How is she even related to you, Boss?”

Oluo’s face squinted, quite offended at the question and shoved him. “Get back to work and teach this shrimp how things work here.” He shoved (F/n) as well after his statement and stalked off, gulping down his beer.

After a few minutes of staring at the drunken mess of a Boss, her new co-worker coughed. “Right, well. I think it’s time for you to get started. Observe how I do things first and then I’ll let you try.”

Author: Thank you so much for reading. If you like the story- you can find this in Quotev, Wattpad, and Webnovel. Search the title- if not the title, you can simply search TKHoshi in all sites and my username will come up.

The art is mine ^^

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