#I should really finish those fics I’ve been neglecting…

[yeyayeya]

School has been fucking me up, but now I am free

Expect for me to reblog shit and talk about nonsense now since I am going on vacation lol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: we just vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Silence simmers in the meeting room. Lloyd watches you, basking in your defeat. You don’t have to proclaim it, no need for a white flag, it’s all very obvious.

You need this job. Even if Burger King called you that very moment, flipping burgers isn’t going to pay for Pete’s negligence or your children’s lunches. As always, you’re the one who has to do what needs to be done.

You raise your chin and swallow, trying to sit up straight. He watches you, a smirk slanting his mouth as he flutters his fingers over his bristly mustache. He chuckles as he slowly struts closer.

“You look tired, cupcake, so we’ll keep it simple,” he nears, soles scuff with each step as he puts his hands on his belt. “I’ve put up with your mouth more than I should so why don’t you put it to good use?”

He unbuckles his belt and you sniff. Your throat constricts as you stare at the bottom of his shirt as he opens his fly and the tails break out. Your nostrils flare as you tamp down the last of your defiance. Is that pride? You haven’t had use for that in years.

Fed up, done, exhausted, helpless. Whatever it is, you just want it over with. You roll the chair closer and grab the front of his pants. He lets out a grunt as you pull him closer. He catches himself on your shoulder as you tug his pants down to his thighs.

“Wow, sunshine, you that desperate for a gourmet cut–”

He can’t finish his disgusting remark as you stretch the elastic of his briefs and roll them down, angling them past his already hard dick. He perks up as you bare his excitement and you roll your eyes. The arrow shaved into his pelvis pointing to his dick is juvenile.

“Alright, take it easy–”

“I know how to suck a dick,” you hiss and grab him, stroking him to his tip and back down, slow, easing yourself into what you’re about to do. 

Your stomach curdles as you wheel even closer and straighten your spine. This man revolts you. Every man does. Your own husband most of all. Well, consider this revenge. It might be torture for you but vengeance nonetheless.

“Shit,” Lloyd rasps as he pulls his hand away from your shoulder, “don’t be so rough–”

You continue to play with him, less than meanly. You squeeze at his tip so he twitches and groans. You didn’t lie. You know what you’re doing but it does feel like a while since you have. You close your eyes and lean in as you pump your hand back down.

Your breath glosses over him and he shudders. You press your lips to his tip then swipe your tongue around. He lets out a longer drone and spasms. You continue to tease him, delaying the inevitable. You can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. Just like any man, he’s easy.

You take his full tip into your mouth. His voice crackles in his throat and sets his feet. He cradles the side of your head and groans as you make a careful advance down his length. A few inches and back up. A little at a time, wetting him with your saliva.

“Oh, wow, toots, you really…” his voice drifts off as you take him halfway, teetering on the edge of your chair.

The sloppy noise of your task boils in your chest. You shouldn’t do this. Even if Pete betrayed you, it’s wrong. You’re a mother, you’re a wife, you’re better than this. No, you’re old, worn out, and unloved. You don’t want to do this, but you need to.

Keep telling you that and you might not gag.

You get further and further, each time he rumbles in breathless delight. His hand slides around the back of your head, urging you on as he tilts his pelvis forward. He thrusts slightly as you struggle to take him down your throat. Your eyes well and your throat squeezes. You repress a cough and keep going.

You pull back, your hand still on him. You know he’s close. You feel him fighting, shaking, ready to spill over like a kettle on high. You slip your hand down to fondle his sac and he lets out a longer moan, fingertips curling against your scalp. Almost there, weak.

“Wait, wait, wait…” he begs.

You pop your mouth off of him and put your other hand around him. You squeeze his balls as you work him quickly, bracing yourself for the eruption. A peel of thunder rolls through him as he cums, spurting violently so it hits your shirt, your neck, and trails down his slack pants. You circle your thumb around his tip as he quakes and you coax him through the final waves. 

He huffs and braces your shoulders with both hands as he drops his head. He sucks in air and it scratches in his throat. He shifts his feet and trails his touch down to squeeze your tits through your shirt.

“You didn’t even let me have a go at the funbags,” he accuses, his voice silty and low.

You look up at him as you let go and roll back. You look down at yourself and gulp down shame. Worse than his semen on your blouse is the slickness between your legs. You swivel the chair and stand without a word, grabbing kleenex from the middle of the table to wipe your hand and your shirt, then your neck. 

You ball the tissue up and swipe some more. You turn to Lloyd and clean him up quietly, wiping him then his pants, and zipping and buckling them up. You tap his stomach and grab the wadded up kleenex to dump in the bin. You face him as you squirt some sanitizer into your hand and rub them together.

“I’m going back to work, sir,” you declare.

He stares at you, cheeks flushed as he smooths his hair back. He clears his throat and puffs out, chest rising and falling. His jaw squares, “you will go back to work, like a good girl, won’t you?”

You try not to glare at his weak attempt to reclaim his power. He holds all the cards but he doesn’t realise you’ll always have the trump. He’s a man, he’s simple. The simplest thing in your life.

🗄

You’re oddly more alert for the rest of the day. Maybe, just more determined as your work is your singular escape. It’s easier for you to lose yourself in budgets and expense reports rather than think of everything else.

You don’t take your lunch. Your appetite is all but non-existent. The office fades into a blur around you as there is only you and your computer. You only break away from your trance to refill your coffee.

You stretch as you stand, balancing as tiptoes as you try to loosen the muscles of your calves. You roll your shoulders and pass by several empty desks as your coworkers opt to have their lunches.

You enter the lunchroom and find several people sitting around the table, jabbering about sports or Netflix over open containers. They don’t acknowledge you but neither do you. You put your thermos under the spout of the machine and pluck out a medium roast capsule.

As you insert the k-cup and close the lid, a sudden silence settles over the space. A scramble and the click-clacking of lids on tupperware. You don’t bother to look back as you choose your brew strength and cup size. You keep a hand on the machine as you lean into it.

You glance over as the employees at the table stand with their sealed containers and give meek looks towards the door. They file towards it solemnly, ‘sir’, ‘Mr. Hansen’, ‘good afternoon’... they flee back to the safety of their desk at the appearance of the mustachioed manager. You shrug and turn your attention back to your thermos.

He laughs as he struts into the room and goes to the fridge. He opens it, standing only a foot from you as he peruses the contents. He hums as he bends and searches. He tuts as he swings the fridge shut and turns to lean against it. He crosses his arms as he watches you.

“No lunch today?” He wonders.

“Coffee,” you answer and take your thermos from the tray, twisting the lid onto it.

“Ah, yeah, you did start your day out with a big breakfast,” he winks, twitching slightly as the thought arouses him.

“Sir,” you face him and inhale deeply, nostrils flaring.

He tilts his head and looks you up and down, “we need to get a few things straight, babycakes.”

“Do we? I thought everything was pretty clear… Mr. Hansen.”

He snickers into a growl and runs his fingertips down his throat, “I don’t think it was.” He arches a brow, “you don’t dismiss me, I dismiss you. That’s your one. No more.”

You look at him dully and pop up the tab on the lid of your thermos, “got it, sir. Won’t happen again.”

He doesn’t seem happy with your acquiescence. He squints and recrosses his arms. His cheek dimples as he sucks his teeth.

“Right,” he pushes himself straight, stretching his neck side to side, “number.”

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone. You frown.

“You have my extension, sir–”

“Fuck that noise, give me your number.”

You recite your phone number as he keys it in. He winks and taps the screen one last time before slipping it back into his pocket. He steps closer, looming before you.

“This doesn’t make you special. You still work for me, you do what I say, what I want…” his timbre edges hotly, “and if you don’t, you can go home to your sad husband and your bratty kids and tell them how mommy got canned for being a stubborn bitch.”

“Sir,” you tense, “I haven’t–”

“I’m laying out the terms of our contract,” he interrupts, “so listen.”

You snap your mouth shut, the scent of coffee rising from your thermos, tempting you to sip. You don’t dare as you keep your eyes on the man before you. Victory glints in his eyes. This is ego, fine, you’ll feed it.

“I don’t ever care if you're busy. When I say jump, you jump right onto my dick. When I say swallow, you drink it the fuck down,” he wags his finger at you.

“I…” you look away, “I’ll try, but sir, I have kids–”

“That little princess isn’t old enough to rule the castle?” He snorts.

“Don’t,” you warn him, “sir, with respect, that's my daughter.”

“And you want to take care of her. I know, you're a martyr, so let's talk sainthood.”

You press your lips together. It's not quite a threat, more a reminder of what you could lose. You flick your brow up.

“Fine, I'll pay for the babysitter. How much can that be, anyway?”

You nod, “alright.” You'll take what little he'll give. Prostituting yourself for childcare, wow.

“Don't look so fucking pathetic, babe, you just got promoted,” he sneers, “you get your very own throne.”

He shamelessly gropes the front of his pants. You keep your lip from curling and clutch your thermos tighter. Somehow, you hoped your boardroom antics would sate him. You should've guessed it's not that easy.

“Is there something you need right now?” You force the words out crisply.

He chuckles and sighs, “no, you enjoy your coffee. You're going to need that boost.”

You stare at him. What does he mean? If not now, he surely has something else planned. You have enough work without trying to untangle his riddles.

“Can I go back to my desk now, Mr. Hansen?”

“Aw, look at you, asking for permission,” he coos, “go.”

You step around him, moving cautiously. You sense him turn to watch your departure, his knuckles snapping against your ass. You flinch and stop just by the door.

“Ooo, squishy,” he remarks.

You cringe and fall back into step. You're entirely certain he's used to a different type. Maybe that squishness might just change his mind.

🗄

The rest of your day passes without disturbance. The calm has you on edge. Trepidation in every glance over your desk and every trip to the bathroom. When you pack up, you don't expect to leave on time. But you don't see Hansen and you hope whatever's distracted him keeps him that way.

The kids are chaotic as you get them onto the car. It takes a lot to get Malik still enough to strap into his seat. You get on the road and follow the slog of traffic through the school zone.

Closer to home, you feel your phone buzzing but don't answer. Malik and Simone are arguing about something, you can't focus between them and the cars around you. The pressure builds and builds as your phone starts again.

You're not mad at them. You're mad at Pete. Mad that he never does this, that he can't even bother to be with you so he can help. The hard stuff if never his responsibility.

You finally get home and mediate between your children. As you enter the house, you're met with the unexpected aroma of cooking. Simone gives you a look as Malik doesn't notice.

You help your son with his shoes as Simone hangs her coat and puts her bag on the chest beside the rack. You take Malik’s jacket and put it on a hook, forgetting about your own as he sprints into the front room. You hover in the doorway as Simone takes out her book and flops onto the couch.

“You're home,” Pete emerges from the kitchen, “I got dinner on.”

He's proud but you're not impressed. You don't say a word as Malik races over to his dad and reaches up. Pete scoops him up and shakes him in a bear hug until he's giggling wildly. This is what he does, he's the good guy and you're just the maid.

Your pocket vibrates again. You huff and pull your phone out, not checking to call display as you put it face down on the end table. Sure, he's cooking but you'll be the one cleaning up and doing bathtime and bed time. Same as it ever was.

You go back to the entry way and strip off your jacket, plunking your work bag veside Simone's. You return and cross the room, brushing by Pete to enter the kitchen. Oh god. It's already a fucking mess.

He puts Malik down and tells him to find his tablet. Your husband follows and you face his eager grin. You scowl.

“You used my ceramic pan?” You hiss.

His face falls. “I… I'm trying…”

“You're a joke,” you scoff and go to the stove, the chicken is burning. “Well, I guess we can scrape off the black parts.”

He comes over to stand beside you, “do you gotta rain on everything?” He keeps his voice down.

“Take a look in the mirror,” you retort and turn on your heel, “let me know when you need me to come make something edible.”

[angelnumber1]

Scum Villain Self Saving System mini fic for the Himbo in SVSSS AU I’ve been discussing with @rarepears

Contains vaguely NSFW content and features OCs (Original Characters)

(The NSFW is comedic in nature)

I... was really really lost. Like. I don’t even know the language lost.

Calls don’t work lost.

Weird animals and plants lost.

Some other thing that shows how lost I am lost.

But I still have Wi-Fi? But maps don’t work. It’s all in Chinese right now. Weird.

It’s just. Like.

I know I’m from America, melting pot and all, but this is just weird!

There’s no way crazy cult villages are THAT close to college right?!

Well… at least all this running makes for a good workout. Though I’ll need some fuel soon, track team’ll kill me if I pull a Devon.

Oh right! I’ve got some of those off-brand meat sticks one of the clubs were selling!

They really fucked up the shape though.

Well. It’s nearly sunset so I can use the stars or something to find my way back. There were these three stars by the campus that looked kind of like a short dick if you looked at it from the science building.

We named it Peen-ience.

I followed Peen-ience to get back to the campus once, did walk in on a ‘bros group project’ first though. We named Peen-ience really well.

Welp. Gotta get some grub now. Wish I could just order pizza or something… I’m even wearing pizza pinks right now! Nice fuzzy robe one of the seniors bought me after he showed me this cool club.

Wait! Gotta get food. Um. Ok. You can do this.

Shit.

There’s nothing here!

And I need to piss too…

Sorry trees… and bushes… and random vines that keep trying to trip me…

I’m answering nature’s call right now and they don’t take no for an answer.

So sorry plants!

…oh yeah, plants like this actually.

Wow these plants are weird! They’re grabbing my legs and kind of feel like those octopus suckers? Feels super tingly too!

I’ll just brush them off. Carefully though! I’m not going to harm the environment.

As I finished up my… business the world suddenly… changed, it’s got this pink tint too it! Ah. This is fine :) It happens.

Well I’ll just pull my pants back up and-

Mmh. My legs feel weird again… Why the fuck is someone grabbing my legs?!

Oh my gosh they’re covered in piss.

Pervert!?

Where did they come from!?

Or someone was sleeping where I pissed?!

And I didn’t notice!?

I’m not sure which is worse T-T can people get diseases from piss?

So. Um.

There’s just some guy? They’re kind of pretty with all that long hair so they could be a girl, or what if they identify as something else and I misgendered them!

But they keep trying to get more… of my… out of my… by. Mhn!

“S-Stop. C’mon that’s-that’s my. St-“ They keep. They’re. Stop it!

Should I punch them? Stranger danger?

But they look so skrunkly like a poor little green meow meow ;( so thin! And their hair is all messy! And they’re face is all… weird looking, in a pretty way, but that’s not the point!

They’re licking the piss off now.

Wait.

Were they drinking my! My!

I though they were trying to do something else…

…

Imma just…

Imma just leave.

This is getting weird!

…

With a quick few steps backward I easily get away. Glad I didn’t break any of those weird octopus vines though. Respect nature and all that right!

That guy must be super weak though- there was like, no strength to his grip at all. He must skip all the days. Smh I swear. If you skip leg day your glutes are being neglected but if you skip all the days you’ll fall down and break your hip or something.

But man! The sunset and this pink glow looks super cool! It’s like a scene in a web novel!

Oh? What’s that noise?

I heard some singing coming from my right. Some ultra-feminine high pitched voice piercing my ears, it feels… maybe I could head over and check it out?

Nah. Might be one of the people that chased me earlier.

As I headed away I felt almost like something inside of me increased? And when I concentrated on it I felt resistant to the singing? Weird.

Well I’ll just keep moving!

Some of the trees are blocking the sky over here. So I’ll have to find a clearing or something, oh right! Maybe I’ll be able to use my phone over there too!

…

The sun is nearly completely set by now. But look at this!

It’s so cool!

Wow this really is like a novel! There’s this huge clearing here and a little lake with a waterfall and tons of pretty plants!

Oh hey! It’s the green perv from before… maybe I’ll just stay at the edge of the clearing… this place has tons of other guys(? Weird cosplaying ten feet tall dudes? Oh silly! I’m probably hallucinating, I’m laying in a bunch of flowery bushes!)

The green perv looks a lot more human compared to the other dudes in the clearing, maybe he couldn’t get enough stuff to make his costume, well at least it doesn’t look like he’s covered in piss anymore.

In fact he looks tons better than earlier! Maybe it’s a different dude?

Suddenly my vision blurs. Or. A rectangle of my sight?

It’s really staticky though…

…Poison Resistance lv up!

Stealth lv up!

Experience Pasting Activated! Additional Experience added to%#&…

Retry…

Error. Error. Transmigration System. Prince Raising System not detected.

Additional.al.al eXp will be sent to storage.

Error. Invennnnnnnnnn.-

Nnntory does not exist.

Contacting world consciousness…

Errrrrr.

Con#+} {3wards t0 i.t3mized f0rm

.

.

.

I-

.

.

.

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck! What the ever-loving holy shit is this bucket of crap?! This ain’t cosplay anymore!

With that. I felt weird. Empty. Likes there supposed to be something inside that really cool and I’m seriously missing out.

I feel really weird now… but stronger. And I have this Chinese style bag now. Some kind of pouch?

I don’t wanna think right now!… This is a killer headache…

.

.

.

Then another carfucking voice popped up.

And then a THIRD carfucker decided to bulldoze my head…

Carfuckers…

I got some new shit from that though. One of those hair crowns from Chinese movies. It looks like something a MC would wear!

I don’t think I can put it in my pockets with it poking me. But my hairs way too short and I have no idea how to wear it either.

Maybe ponytail style? I was supposed to get my hair cut next week so it should be long enough for a mini ponytail.

It’s really hard to put on without actually knowing how it supposed to go. And also that I’m not even trying to put it on the right way either.

But still, after a few more attempts and the help of a paper clip, I actually manage to put it on! Yay!

…

… it felt weird. Like my whole body was lighter. Still have that headache though.

Damn.

I must look like a cosplayer too now! My hair has a crown and I’m wearing a sleeping robe with a pouch hanging from the belt.

Suddenly another object appeared.

It fell on my head! Owwww…

It’s…

A jade hairpin with a little accessory dangling off it. The pin matches the crown! It looks super pretty. Maybe that guy from earlier needs one of these. His hair looked like tree vines from how messy it was.

I think I have to do something around now though?

Oh right. The stars. Why I came here and stuff.

I look up to the. The now night sky. Middle of the night kind of night sky.

Wait!

How long have I been laying here! It’s the middle of the night! And there are like- a bajillion stars. And my phone still can’t call anyone! But I still have service! And full charge too! Nice.

Huh. Wonder if the cosplayers are still here.

Peeking from the bushes I see most of them have already left. The perv and a few others are the only ones left. I hope they leave soon. I’m super thirsty! Can wait to guzzle up some of that life-liquid.

The other bros in the frat said not to say that out loud now that I think about it. They looked super red when I said that. Maybe it’s some slang I didn’t learn yet?

Hey! That big guy in the middle just hit the perv! It could be because he’s a perv though…

But he can’t keep doing it! And why are the other guys?… OH MY GOSH! Are they eating him!?

Um! Uh! I’ll throw this rock at them!

Picking up the rock I- crush it with my bare hands!? When did I get enough gains for that!

And! Oh. Shit. I’m standing in the middle of the clearing after making tons of noise by crushing a rock.

…Are they going to eat me too?

Frozen in place I stare them down, okay, just back up slowly… if a wall of clearly carnivorous plants weren’t trying to eat my ass!

I’ll fight them then!

Just have to brace my self and-

Oh. Oh wow these guys are weak.

Within moments I’m standing on top of a group of cosplayers. Well. Not anymore considering how broken the outfits are.

Walking over to the other guy I reach down, offering him my hand, I’m feeling a little like a hero. Though all I did was beat some guys up.

The perv though, he definitely doesn’t have manners! He just started licking the tree sap off my hands.

I pull my hands away. Seriously! This is why I’m calling you a perv in my head!

“You know what! Here eat this instead!” I knew they didn’t speak the same language but by anime if he wants something in his mouth at least have it be food!

He gingerly takes the offered food, for some reason he drapes some vines over it first, weird dude.

He seems to be inspecting the length of meat.

His eyes are trailing every inch as the vines tighten and greed sets into his eyes.

After letting the vines rest on the meat a bit longer he hungrily consumes it, shoving half of its length in.

It’s rather long and thick compared to most now that I think about it.

I can see something that I think is his tongue wrapping around fruitlessly trying to cover the entirety of its length.

It isn’t soon before his body starts to shudder at the unexpected gain, liquid flowing down his chin as he couldn’t even close his mouth.

The noises he’s making… wet, sticky sounding gags coming out as he’s forcing the meat into himself. And with a final shudder, he’s completely consumed the offered meat.

Well, while he did that I got some water to drink and started eating some fruit nearby. If you only eat meat you’ll get indigestion!

The rest of the group crawls over to me, I think they want some of it? I do clearly still have a few more and that guy really seemed to like it.

Or maybe not.

The group is just staring at me, the big one who I think was the leader, offers his head to me? No, he’s gesturing to the flower on top.

It’s a… sturdy flower. The color is really dense and the edges are spiked.

I wonder what kinds of plants these are? And if any can get rid of my headache. It hurts ;(

The other guy comes rushing over once he sees us, I can see the outline of my meat in his throat.

He gestured to the flower bud on his head, where did that come from?

It looks super soft though, maybe I’ll just touch it a little?

The bud trembles the moment I touch it, as I lightly run my finger on the light pink sides, he’s shivering as I slowly inspect it.

I lean down towards it, it’s actually kind of cute, and it seems like he doesn’t mind me touching him like this.

It looks really… delicious in all honesty, I want to bite it.

As I play with the bud it suddenly opens up!

Pale petals fill my visions and- oh my gosh it’s so soft!

I give the flower a little kiss for flowering for me.

I might not be able to find my way back but this is fun!

.

.

.

And that was an incredibly long snippet from my self indulgence. It was supposed to be short which is why it isn’t on ao3 instead.

Well anyways I hope whoever read it enjoyed it and feel free to direct any questions to my askbox though most of this AU will probably end up on @rarepears blog if they’re okay with it.

Also some of the little things in here like Devon and carfucker are from his fraternity.

Devon is a guy who forgot to eat or drink anything several practices in a row while another person decided to start saying swears differently as to not disrespect mothers.

The ‘people’ in the fic are plants based monsters and beasts whose hierarchy is based on size and traits.

Thicker, rougher and sharper flowers are seen as the stronger and better fed while softer ones are seen as weaker.

These creatures can reproduce asexually or by deflowering another and it works like crossbreeding.

It works with most species though humans need an extra push for it to work with them.

Our MC has abilities from three systems that are needed because he’s not supposed to have them unless he transmigrated to that world.

[voiddrop]

❝  don’t be ridiculous,  there’s enough room on this bed for both of us. ❞  for the Stay scenario. Adrian Chase. 😊

In A Shitty Motel Room...

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Tags: Only one bed trope, fluff, kissing, sharing a bed, Adrian being Adrian, cursing, nothing there's just fluff - like this is all fluff.

Summary: When the 11th Street Kids stop at a motel on the way back from a mission, you find yourself sharing a room with Adrian. That would be all fine, if it weren't for the fact there's only one bed.

Word Count: 1.3k

Gif belongs to dcmultiverse

Notes: A big thank you to Shan (@bvcksmurdock) for proofreading this for me when I just couldn't be assed to look at it any longer, this fic got rewritten twice because for some reason it just wouldn't play nice, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy.

You really hadn’t expected much from the shitty motel your team had managed to find, and you were right not to. When you managed to shoulder open the door, Adrian talking your ear off, you were met with a very dismal sight. The carpet was a mix of orange and blues, crossing in geometric patterns, stained from years of god-knows-what; and the walls were no better off, beige wallpaper that was peeling in several places, though calling the wallpaper beige was being generous, it had been yellowed from years of cigarette smoke and neglect. There was a door that hung open, showing a dismally small bathroom with just enough space for a sink, toilet, and shower. An ancient TV sat atop an even older stand against a wall, with a lumpy couch across from it. The defining feature of the room was the bed. The bed.

Singular.

“Oh, fuck me,” You mutter, glaring at the offending piece of furniture. The smug look on Leota’s face as she handed you the key made so much sense now. No doubt she and Emilia had schemed together to get you and Adrian in the only room with a single bed - because you found it incredibly un-fucking-likely that John and Chris were spooning right now. Those two had been teasing you about your growing crush on Adrian for the past few weeks.

“I mean, we can, if you want to?” Adrian said, breaking you from your train of thought. He’d already set his bag down on the single bed - you still weren’t over that - and had turned to give you an eager look. “I’d like to- I’d really like to actually, I mean you’re hot, really hot, incredibly hot, so it won’t be the first time I’ve thought about-”

“Adrian!” You bark, cutting him off and trying to stop your poor face from growing any warmer, “I wasn’t being- it was an expression, I was being sarcastic.” His face fell, his previous eager look replaced by what looked like disappointment as he stared at you.

“Oh, well you should tell people before you’re going to be sarcastic so there’s no confusion.”

You nod slowly, turning to walk towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna go shower,” You mutter quickly, desperate to get out of the situation and avoid dealing with this for a few extra minutes. Really, you were just putting off the inevitable.

The motel didn’t have the budget for hot water - no surprise there - so the shower was cold, it did its job regardless and you were able to wash off the blood, grime, and dirt clinging to your skin. You finished your shower quickly, drying off and changing into the spare clothes you’d brought in your bag.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and walked back out into the bedroom, passing Adrian as he slipped past to get cleaned up himself. His bag was still on the bed, so you decided to claim the couch for the night. It wasn’t comfy at all, but you’ve slept in worse conditions. Sprawling out on the couch, you can feel old springs digging into your back but you shift around until you’re comfortable and listen. The sound of the shower stops and in the silence of the room you can hear as Adrian steps out, humming to himself.

Several minutes later, the door opens once more and Adrian comes back in, only to pause several steps into the room. “Uh, what are you doing?” You crane your head at his question, catching sight of him stood there in a loose white top and grey sweatpants.

“Trying to go to sleep?”

“On the couch? Why?” Adrian asked, moving over to the bed to grab his bag and dump it on the floor.

You stare at him. He stares right back. “Because… you’ve claimed the bed?” You respond slowly, trying to figure out what Adrian could possibly be implying. Surely he didn’t want to share the bed with you, did he? No, that was just the ridiculous, childish crush you had on him speaking. That was all.

Yet, despite your attempts to tell yourself that, Adrian laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, there’s enough room on this bed for both of us,” He said, pulling back the covers and claiming in. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, beating so hard it was at risk of jumping right out and running away. You swallowed thickly as you pushed yourself up, stiffly making your way over to the bed.

Slowly, you crawled into the space next to Adrian on the bed. There was barely any room between you. Despite the cold shower he had just taken, warmth still rolled off of Adrian’s skin, and you were close enough to feel it as you lay there. “See, I told you there was enough room,” Adria chirped, sounding very happy.

“Yeah, guess there is,” You murmured, turning over to lay with your back to him and try to calm your racing heart. This was no big deal, you’d slept in close proximity to Adrian before, and you trusted him not to be a creep. It was fine. Totally fine. ”Good night, Adrian.”

“Night,” Adrian replied, wriggling around to get comfortable behind you. The room fell silent and for a moment you thought you might actually get some sleep, only to pause as Adrian brushed closer. He whispered your name and asked, “Are you cold?”

“What?”

“You’re shivering.” Huh, so you were. You hadn’t noticed until that point, so focused on trying not to combust at the fact you were sharing a bed with Adrian, but the bedsheets were pitifully thin, paired with your cold shower, well… You were left shivering slightly, goosebumps covering your arms and legs.

You sighed, trying to curl up into yourself and press deeper into the bed. “Guess I am, sorry,” You murmured, only to squeak as Adrian shifted closer. His warm body pressing against your back, the weight of his arm curling around your waist.

“Don’t apologise, here, I’m warm,” He hummed, pulling you back against him and suddenly he was everywhere. Smelling like the sandalwood deodorant he used excessively, and the green apple shampoo he’d been using since he was a teenager. “They always cuddle for warmth in movies right? I watched one just the other day, it was about this man and woman who got stranded in the wilderness, and-” You turned around in his arms, cutting off his ramble as you tilted your head to look up at him, “-oh, hi!” He chirped, smiling down at you.

You stared at him, at his dimples, his bright smile, that curly hair; and finally, you felt something in you shift, urging you to reach up and place a hand against his cheek. “Hey, Adrian.” Your voice hung softly in the air between you. “Can I kiss you?” You weren’t sure where this confidence had come from, and it vanished as soon as it arrived. Just saying the words made you want to throw up from nervousness.

Adrian’s eyes widened. “Is this more sarcasm?” He asked.

“No, no sarcasm.”

“Oh,” Adrian gaped, “then fuck yes, absolutely, you can kiss me whenever you want. I would love it if you kissed me all the time, actually, because I think about kissing you all the time, but Chris says that’s weird. Is that weird?” You don’t answer him, just surge up to press your mouth over his. Adrian makes a sound in the back of his throat, his arm around you tightening, pulling you closer. You sigh and he takes the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He still tasted like the mint gum he’d been chewing in John’s van earlier.

As you push him onto his back and nibble on his bottom lip, adoring the way he whines, you make a mental note to thank Leota and Emilia tomorrow.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A different kind of education; Doctor Strange x teen reader

*Author’s note*

I would've posted it up earlier but this week we had a bad storm and my power's been out for a few days (fams okay now we kept ourselves warm as best as we could mainly staying in our beds covered up in our hoodies and winter hats).  But now that my power's back on I can finally start posting things up.

Now there's some hints of Shang-Chi and the 10 Rings in this fic (No spoilers don't worry to those that haven't watched it yet) but I wanted to kinda combine those worlds with the reader. Not really any warnings just some father figure Strange, fluff, and minor swearing.

Also this is kinda like what my dad does for me, he's always up for giving me either a movie-cation or musication by letting me listen or watch movies/music I have not seen. Anyways I'll stop rambling and allow you guys to read on :) Until next time.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@psychosupernatural​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@austynparksandpizza​

@bisexualdragongirl​​

_______________________________________________________

I was in the training grounds practicing my forms and combinations that Wong had asked me to do before my next test. Using my relic the Fangs of Ta Lo two 10in blades made from the actual fangs of the Guardian of Ta Lo and the handles protected in dragon skin.

Twirling and spinning the daggers skillfully in my hands before doing my kicks and leaps before finishing off with a lunge.  I counted my steps with my breathing before conjuring a shield with the daggers.  The blades glowing a bright orange and yellow light as I traced the shield and pushed it forward before tracing in the air the shape of a dragon which circled around me roaring and flapping it’s great wings.  

I ended my form by bringing my arms inward before extending them back out slowly until they came together at my stomach and I bowed (at the same time the dragon’s upper body stood tall and it’s wings unfurled and extended back out the same time as I moved my arms) before it let out one last roar and then disappeared.

“You never cease to amaze me with your forms and combinations. Even when I was still learning under the previous Sorcerer Supreme.” I grinned and looked up to see Stephen Strange standing along the corridor of the training grounds.

“Magic has been in my family for 3000 years. Even some of my family members live in the realm of Ta Lo guarding it’s sacred lands.”

“Remind me again why you couldn’t have been Sorcerer Supreme while I was away? You could’ve prevented the shared blizzard Wong so wonderfully neglected to close off from Mt. Everest.”

“Because like you and half of the other Sorcerers here, I too was blipped away. I should be 21 years old by now. Do you know how long I have been dying to drink Wong’s secret stash of sake?” Strange chuckled as he walked up to me.

“I think you’ve done enough training for the day. Why not take a break for a bit?”

“Thank you Stephen but unlike you I do not have the privilege to fool around. If I want to finally get up to be the Head Guardian of the Hong Kong Sanctum, I’ve got to continue my training. I would’ve managed it five years ago but well you know what happened.” He nodded.

I’m betting your wondering just how the Sorcerer Supreme Dr. Stephen Strange and I can talk to each other like we’re old friends (even with him being well over my age).  Well it all started back in 2016; when he had came to Kamar-Taj after he had experienced his accident.

He was just about to get mugged for his watch until I stepped in and saved his ass.  When I revealed my face to him he was of course surprised that a kid had to save him but I retorted back to him that it was because of a kid that his white ass got saved.  I took him to Kamar-Taj where he met the Ancient One, the previous Sorceress Supreme.

During his training he did struggle and of course it was all because of his arrogance so after a few sass riff-offs between the two of us, I gained his respect and offered to help him out (and also gain access to the books without Wong ever knowing. Yep I taught him that trick). And through our training, we also opened up to each other about our personal lives.

He told me about his partner? Ex-partner? Christine Palmer and that she was the reason he didn’t want to give up the watch. He shared with me that the real reason he had wanted to become a neurosurgeon is that he had a younger sister who had suffered a stage 3 brain tumor.  She fought for as long as she could and they had even managed to take out most of the tumor but then suddenly it came back with a vengeance and she died three days later.

In return I shared with him a story that only the Ancient One and Wong only knew of me.  In Ta Lo where I was born and raised for a brief moment of my childhood, there was a deadly disease carried by the Malarias (to normal people they would look like mosquitoes if they were 10x bigger. About the size of an English bulldog) that suddenly began to sweep throughout all of Ta Lo.  My parents desperately wanting to save me, sent me through the forests and out into the real world so that I wouldn’t get infected while they fought bravely to keep them from entering this world.

Wandering alone on the streets a lowly orphan, I was found by the Ancient One herself who knew of my birthplace and where I had come from.  Her and Wong both tutored me on the ways of the Mystic arts, both from their perspective and from my own arts that came from my land.  

When I was 10 years old I was given permission to finally return and see what had became of my homeland.  When I arrived and passed the tests in order to gain entrance, I found my grandmother and grandfather who had survived the Malarias invasion, however they told me the sad truth that my parents died defending the exit in which I had escaped.  And the last thing they ever spoke was my name and sending a prayer of protection and guidance to me.

From there my training was split between my homeland and Kamar-Taj until I felt like I was destined to remain by the Ancient Ones side.  For a great evil would soon come to Earth and I felt like I could help stop it (if I could). My grandparents accepted my fate and gave me my relic before bidding me farewell.  Fast forward 2 years later and that’s when I found Strange just shortly after my 14th birthday.

From then on Strange and I developed what you may consider a mentor-mentoree relationship that tips on the scale of being like a father-daughter type relationship.  Don’t get me wrong Strange still has his ego moments that I have to deflate (Wong gets a little wishy-washy when it comes to Strange’s recklessness behavior).  And I’ll admit sometimes I have my moments of pushing myself to the limit and Strange has to step in and sometimes force me to rest.

“Come on, as Sorcerer Supreme I command that you take the rest of the day off.”

“Just because your Sorcerer Supreme does not make you a king.” I sassed at him.  “But if it’ll get you off my back I’ll take a break.” I placed my blades in their sheaths that crossed behind my lower back.

“I was thinking about maybe doing some different kind of training with you.” He offered.

“And just what other kind of training is there?”

“Well I’ve been going through your music playlist.”

“You took my computer? How’d you get my password?” I snapped.

“Next time you create a password, don’t make it a gag to a joke.”

“Damn. And I would’ve though ‘I don’t remember’ was the perfect one.”

“Anyway, figure I help expand on your music taste.”

“I’ve got good music.”

“All you have is K-Pop and maybe one or two classic rock bands on your playlist.”

“I also got some female artists here in America. Can’t deny Pink she’s my girl.”

“Well at least you’re not into Nicki Minaj or Cardi B.”

“Oh gods no. Those girls sing only one key. Autotune.” I said.

“Well you’re on your way. Now come on, there’s lots to educate you on in the ways of music.” He extended his hand for me to take. I smirked at him and we walked side by side with his arm around my shoulders.

So out into New York City we went.  I’ll admit it’s always a bit weird to see Strange in normal civilian clothes, I’m just used to him in his Sorcerer Supreme attire (all we pretty much wear is our sorcerer robes whether in public or within the sanctums).

“You know we went shopping for a reason.” He told me gesturing to my sorcerer robes.

“I know but you also gotta admit these robes are super comfy. It’s like they’re not even there.” I told him.  He opened his mouth but closed it and lightly shrugged.

“Alright, but don’t take out your knives otherwise people will think you’re crazy.”

“It’s New York. Everyone is crazy.” At that statement he shrugged a nod again agreeing with me as we kept on walking until we reached our destination.  Marko’s Record Shop.

“A record shop? Seriously? You do know there’s a new thing called streaming.”

“Yes but there’s nothing that beats than old fashion vinyl records. Plus I found an old record player in the sanctum that I’ve been polishing it and fixing it up for weeks. Now come on.” He gently pushed me forward before following behind me as we both entered the store.

“Welcome to Marko’s how can I—Stephen? Stephen Strange?” an elderly man spoke up from behind the counter.

“Hello Marko, glad to see again.” He greeted the man.

“And good to see you too son, been a long time. I was almost beginning to think that being a hero would make you forget about all the little people you knew.”

“Please Marko forget you? Never. I brought along one of my top students, (Y/n) (L/n) figured I’d let her get out of the streaming train and see how we got our music back in the day.” Stephen said placing an arm around me.

“Well, welcome, welcome, welcome to Marko’s Record shop young lady.” He extended his hand out to me and I gratefully took it. “It’s always a pleasure to see young folks like you coming into my store these days. No one really cares for records like they used to.”

“Is it really because of the streaming services?” I asked.

“That and there was also the phase of illegal music downloading like Napster and Frostbite. Glad those sons of bitches got terminated or at least filled with so many viruses that no one downloads things from there.” Marko said.

“Indeed.” Stephen agreed.

“Well feel free to browse around for as long as you want and if you find something either of you like, it’s on me.”

“Oh no Marko we couldn’t possibly.” Stephen argued.

“Take it Stephen. You—you brought my wife back to me as well as our children from the Blip. Please.” Stephen looked at Marko with solemn eyes and he nodded before guiding me over to some of the records.

“So—how is it you know this guy? You talk as if you’re old friends.”

“he is. An old family friend of my mother’s. And he’s the reason for my supreme music-cation which I shall now bestow onto you.” He said fiddling through some records till he came to on. “Ah-ha yes! Oh Marko I still can’t believe you have this one!” he pulled out a Beatles record.

“Pure mint condition as the day I bought it. And it still sounds great too.” Marko said from his desk as he was cleaning it up.

“A Beatles record?” I asked.

“Oh not just any record, this my dear girl is the very first record The Beatles ever released.” I looked at him wide-eyed.

“And a record can stay that fresh for as long as Marko said?”

“If kept in the right hands, yes. And Marko is the Master of preserving music history.”

“If there’s nothing out here to your liking, I’ve got more in the back. Mostly stuff that I grew up on like Jazz and Swing.”

“No thanks Marko I think we’ll—”

“I’d like to see what you’ve got.” Stephen looked at me questioningly.  “What? I’ve got a guilty pleasure for old school swing and Jazz.”

“Ha-ha that’s a girl. Hang on let me just get the box from the back.” He got up from his chair and waddled his way to the back room. “Do you need any help?” I asked him.

“No, no thank you little missy. I maybe old but I still got a spring in my step.” He said giddily.

“But you also gotta be careful, Ellie warned you about throwing your hip again.” Stephen said.

“Oh poppycock!” Marko waved Stephen off as he set the box down and opened it up.  He turned to me and took out the first record which was an Elle Fitzgerald one. “Now this record here was what gave Ella Fitzgerald her true name. The moment this record dropped, her name was all over the billboards.”

“Have you got any instrumental swing music? I can only really find those one youtube and maybe a few on Amazon music.”

“Oh hang onto your toga there little miss.” It’s not really a toga but I wasn’t gonna correct him on that.  He soon pulled out over 10 records of swing music. “Now these here, these were the records that always played during and after the war. Why this record right here is very special to me.” He pulled out a Bing Crosby record and handed it to me. “This right here, especially track 4 is the song that played in the Jazz club where I first met my Ellie.”

“Aww that’s so sweet.”

“She loves herself some Bing Crosby. I think she said if I could sing like him she’d be a happy camper, unfortunately for her I just got the looks of him and not the voice.” He softly laughed.  I softly smiled.

“Guess streaming services don’t really hold the special memories and moments that a record can have.”

“Indeed not.” Marko said.  I turned to Stephen who quirked his brow at me knowingly before giving me a wink.  I nodded to him and turned back to Marko and asked him what other records he had such fond memories of.

For who knows how long we stayed in Marko’s shop talking about records and we even purchased some of our favorite ones before heading back to the sanctum.  Strange and I now sat in his room going over some scrolls while playing in the background was Charlie Feather’s ‘I can’t hardly stand it’.

“I don’t normally say this Strange but—you were right.” He looked up at me.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I scoffed lightly at him.  “I-I really hope I just heard you right did you just say that I was right?” he said with a cocky grin.

“Alright then I take it back.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. You already cashed it in, can’t take it back now.” He teased.

“You are such as cocky asshole.”

“The cocky asshole that’s also your Sorcerer Supreme but I’ll let you get a pass just this once. Because it seemed to me you were really invested in Marko’s teachings.”

“It’s not really about the music itself but the history that the songs can have in a person’s life. That’s why music is so Universal, even more powerful than magic. Because it connects us all and binds us as one. No matter the race, gender or sexuality, music is Universal. It’s not just for one group, it’s for everyone. And for some it’s a comfort, an escape from our reality into one that the songs create.”

“Must you make everything into a philosophy lecture?” he teased.  I stuck my tongue at him and said to him.

“It’s just how I am. Plus another thing you and I have in common. We’re both music nerds.”

“Not quite yet, my young padawan.” He teased in a really bad Yoda impression before walking up to the record and turning off Charlie Feathers and picked up another record and played it next.  An opening came up and he said to me. “Name that song!”

“Oh come on Strange really!?”

“Come on you know this song now tell me what it is!”

“No I don’t know what it is.” I argued.

“If you don’t tell me what this song is, I’m gonna take your card away. Now come on tell me what it is!”

“Gods I hate you so much right now. Will you just tell me what it is?”

“September by Earth, Wind and Fire!” I groaned as I fell back against his bed.

“Oh come on! I’ve only ever heard the chorus to that song how am I supposed to know there were words you could briefly understand for a bit?”

“Doesn’t matter, give me your Earth, Wind and Fire card right now.” His fingers snapped at me gesturing me to give him that card. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a make believe Earth, Wind and Fire card as he began to rip it up.  “You’ll get a new one after I educate you on all their best hits and you can name each and every one of them.”

“This is gonna take all night.” I grumbled.

“Well thankfully we don’t have to be anywhere, nor is the timestream in any danger. Now—shall we begin?”

[ophelia-writes]

//INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS BELOW!!

a/n: ok so the scaramouche brainrot has been REAL, i’m so glad that i finally got to meet him in game (i joined after 1.1 sobs so i didn’t get to see him in unreconciled stars) but uh basically i’ve been thinking about him nonstop all week. he’s been in my dreams. he will not leave me alone. so i’ve decided to write more self indulgent fanfiction of him adjsjskhgfh enjoy <3

brave or stupid - scaramouche x gn!reader

warnings: slight violence, mentions of death

he had always been like this— callous, unfeeling, and cruel. after all, when you’re created as a toy that’s designed to be discarded, you’re bound to have a bit of bitterness.

but, to be honest, scaramouche wasn’t sure if he was even capable of kindness. sure, he could be polite to people from time to time if he wanted something from them, and he always showed respect towards the tsaritsa. but he would never show kindness for kindness’s sake. that just wasn’t his style.

besides, he wasn’t even human himself, so why should he care for human lives or emotions? they would be dead before he knew it, there was no point in trying to consider their feelings. he was a superior being, above the needs and trials of mortals. he should be able to do as he pleased.

so why, why did you intrigue him so much?

just a lowly, powerless human, with no vision or delusion, no special abilities to set you apart. and yet, you’d put your life on the line for just about anyone, despite not having the power or means to defend yourself, caring not for your own safety. what kind of idiot were you, exactly?

here you were, throwing yourself in front of the merchant scaramouche had been planning to fry for neglecting his debts. you were small, perhaps even smaller than him, with nothing but a stick in your hands. the sight was hardly threatening, and he would have killed you in an instant if it weren’t for the unwavering look of determination in your eyes. there was something different about you, he realized. something he rarely ever had the chance to see.

you weren’t afraid of him.

you, a weak, powerless mortal without even a sword to protect yourself, showed no fear in the presence of the sixth fatui harbinger himself. and scaramouche couldn’t decide if that made you incredibly brave, or incredibly moronic.

probably the latter.

rolling his eyes, scaramouche lowered his electro-infused hands and placed them firmly on his hips. “get lost, rat, before i kill you too,” he ordered, looking you straight in those big, determined eyes. but you refused to back down.

“do it, then,” you replied, gritting your teeth. you gripped the stick tighter in your hands and pulled your scarf down from your head, letting your hair flow freely. if you were going to die today, so be it, but you wouldn’t stand by and let this man terrorize your village.

scaramouche blinked. he had never seen someone with such a blatant disregard for their own life. in a way, you were like the opposite of himself— weak, kind, and selfless. looking at your small, bundled up form, gripping the stick like it was a mystical polearm forged by the gods, glaring daggers at him, he couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“hahaha! ahahahaha! god, i can’t tell if you’re bold or just stupid!” the harbinger took a step forward, the psychotic grin on his face never fading. but you stand your ground. “you know, i really don’t understand why you would risk your life for someone like this. i mean, you’re a pretty little thing,” he began, his violet eyes tracing over your features, “surely you must have more to live for?”

you frowned. “it’s not about me, it’s about the people i’m trying to protect,” you replied, casting a glance to the merchant and his family behind you. out of the corner of your eye, you could see him huddled against the wall, his small daughter gripping his arm while his wife held two other children to her chest. you weren’t about to let him kill these innocent people!

“why bother?” scaramouche asked, waving his hand dismissively. “they’re going to die anyways, it’s not like you can stop me.”

you bit your lip. he was right, of course— you had no vision, no sword. and even if you did… you would be nothing compared to a harbinger. but that wouldn’t stop you from trying. “i won’t leave them,” you finally replied.

scaramouche wasn’t laughing anymore. in fact, he himself wasn’t quite sure when his amusement turned into annoyance, but what he did know was that you were making him angry. “why…. why? this is a pointless waste of life, a worthless sacrifice— you know you can’t stop me, so WHY?” the air around him was now crackling with electro energy, and you could feel it.

still, you showed no fear.

“because, unlike you, i actually care about other people! i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i just stood by and did nothing while those around me are struck down by the tsaritsa’s stupid lapdogs!” you were shouting now. you kind of had to, the electricity in the air making your ears ring and your head fill with static.

that was the last straw.

scaramouche let out an irritated growl, sending a wave of electric shock towards you with a sweeping motion of his hand. the impact threw you backwards, your petite form landing limply in the snow.

the harbinger looked down on you, heaving with rage. how had he let such a stupid mortal get him riled up like this? he should have just killed you when you had first gotten in his way. eyes narrowing, he crouched down and took your wrist to check your pulse.

then your knee collided with his face.

“agh, you—!” scaramouche raised his hand to his jaw, holding the spot where you had struck him. it was definitely going to leave a bruise, and scaramouche did not like looking weak. you quickly picked yourself up out of the snow, scrambling to your feet. you frantically looked around for your stick (not that it would do you much good), but it had flown far out of reach when scaramouche’s attack hit you. “how…. how dare you assault a harbinger?” he asked, his voice laced with anger.

you shrugged. “you assaulted me first.”

scaramouche’s eyes flashed bright violet, another surge of electro gathering in his hands. “alright, enough playing around. it’s time i finish you, for real this time.” your eyes settled on the sadistic smile that had formed on his pale face, likely the last face you would ever see.

still, you showed no fear. “go ahead,” you replied. “i’ll gladly die the hero who managed to kick a harbinger in the face.”

scaramouche narrowed his eyes. you were the most audacious mortal he had ever met.

you raised your head and looked the balladeer right in the face and said one last prayer to the archons. please protect this village when i’m gone.

and with that, a flash of purple filled your vision, casting a brilliant lilac glow over the snowy sneznayan terrain.

ahh! sorry for the cliffhanger/bleak ending but rest assured there will be more parts hehehe <3 hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!

taglist: @kazuhasbiggestsimp @mrsugawara @xiaos-wife @xiaoslilpogchamp

if you want to be added to my scara taglist or specifically just the taglist for this fic, comment and i’ll make sure to add you <3

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part II

Summary: Working for Lily is going well for Sy, but he wants her to meet a special lady in his life, and manages to get her out of the house.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 5,698

Rating: PG - Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Angst

Inspiration: An old fic I wrote and wanting to write a Sy fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you to @wondersofdreaming​

“You've been getting here more early than usual.” Lily commented, handing Sy his usual morning coffee as he arrived on the property. “You fly here like Superman or something?”

She teased him as she sat down on the brand new porch swing that Sy had built with the scrap lumber from the porch and siding.

Sy laughed and leaned back against the porch railing. “No, I've been staying at the Sunway Motel in Celina.” He confessed, crossing his ankles. “I've been too tired to drive back to Austin most days, I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel or anything. So, I've been crashing there to keep it safe, and it just makes getting back here a sight easier, than a three-hour drive.” He told her, shaking his head.

“One-way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily frowned, offended to hear it.

“Well, I don't want you paying that out of your pocket.” He replied, frowning back at her. “It's not a big deal for me.”

“I do technically pay you to stay there, Sy.” Lily answered, shaking her head at him.

“True.” He nodded, staring at the tips of his boots. “But, I also have a Military paycheck.” He informed her. “Again,” He sighed, pressing his lips together. “I didn't want you paying for something I can pay myself. You buy enough things as is.”

“Well, I would have offered to pay for it.” She started, folding her legs. “But, I also would have offered you one of my guest rooms.”

Sy blinked at her, he hadn't expected that from her, it seemed a bit toward. That thought made him paused, blinking at himself. Did Austin 'Fuck and eat you out til you can't walk' Syverson just have an abstinent thought.

Holy fuck, I did! He thought, staring at her.

And it wasn't because Sy wasn't attracted to her, because he very much was.

She was a beautiful young lady. The way her eyes lit up, every time she smiled, even when she was being shy. She came just to his shoulder. Her hair looks so silk and soft, that it took everything in Sy's power not to reach out and caress his fingers through it to find out just how pillow-y soft it was. She was dainty, but had curves in all the right places, for Sy to hold onto her. He bit the inside corner of his lip, thinking about gripping those hips of hers and kneading them in his big mitts, to rub up against that plump, heart shaped ass, to grab or bury his face in those matching breasts.

Sy cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his cooling coffee, praying his growing erection wasn't too obvious to her.

What a way to ruin it, Syverson. He berated himself, trying to rein himself back in.

“Anyway,” She said, breaking the silence and getting up off the swing. “The offer stands, if you want it.” She told him, and went back inside.

He stayed there long after she had gone upstairs to her office to start her own workday, even after his coffee cup was empty. He turned around, setting the empty cup on the railing and watched the sun slowly climb higher into the sky, before sighing and getting back to work, siding the back portion of the house; thinking he might start working on the roof next. Since Spring was due soon and the weatherman said it would be a cold and rainy one.

“I'm going to be late tomorrow.” Sy said, that afternoon.

“Okay.” Lily smiled, taking up his empty lunch plate and turned towards the sink. “Everything okay?” She asked, turning the faucet on to do them and the ones from breakfast.

“Everything's great.” Sy smiled, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

“I've never seen you smile so big, since we met.” She teased him, chuckling.

“I made a friend in Baghdad.” He explained, giddy. “She's finally over here in the States, so I need to pick her up at the airport.” He was excited about getting Aika again, even more so for Lily to meet her.

“I want you to meet her.” He added.

Lily's stomach clenched hearing him talk about whoever she was, a bit down to find out he apparently had someone special in his life. “I look forward to it.” She said, focusing on the plate in her hand.

“Great!” He beamed, getting up from the table. “I'm sure the two of you will be two peas in a pod!” He said, heading out the back door to finish his work.

“Totally.” Lily sighed, frowning to herself.

The next day, Lily was a complete wreck about meeting Sy's friend.

She had tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep as she kept thinking about the meet. She knew the woman was going to be gorgeous, why wouldn't she be, if Sy had been so excited about her being in the States and she was able to capture the attention of his ocean blues. Eventually, Lily got out of bed, tired of not finding a comfortable position and peace of mind to fall asleep. Besides, knowing her luck, she'd be subjected to dreaming about meeting the lady and all her, super model glory.

So, she padded down to her office and flipped on her computer, deciding to get her day started early and finish the few projects she had going on with a couple of clients. But, not even that helped her forget about the situation, if anything it made it worse, her leg impatiently bouncing to the tune of her agitation and self-pity. Running a hand through her hair for the hundredth time, before putting it back up, yet again, she huffed and stood up, pacing the floor of her office, from the window to the door, and back, biting her fingernails and mumbling to herself.

“Why would you even have the remotest chance with a guy like Austin Syverson?” She berated herself, yet again. “Good lord, look at the man! He's an actual man and you've never even kissed a boy. He's the whole package and you're just full of baggage. This is definition of friend zoned, and you bloody well know it!”

Sy had driven back to Austin after leaving Lily's place the night before. He was so excited to retrieve Aika from quarantine. It felt like an age since they last saw each other, but not as long as it might have felt, if he hadn't had Lily for company and the work on the farm to do, day in and day out.

“Fuck,” He huffed, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I really hope the two of them get along.” He mumbled to himself, fidgeting in his seat. “Maybe, I should have told her about Aika. What if she's allergic to dogs, or doesn't even like them?” He questioned, suddenly doubting himself. “I know she likes horses, but a dog isn't a horse, and the horse isn't on her property.” He glanced at his mobile phone in the passenger seat, questioning if he should just call Lily and tell her he's bringing his dog to the farm, for her to meet.

“No.” Sy shook his head, brushing it off. “It'll be fine. This will be great! They'll get along perfectly and it'll be a happily ever after.” He nodded, pushing himself to be positive as he pulled into the facility to pick Aika up. “Captain Austin Syverson, here for my dog, Aika.” He told the lady at the front desk, then signed the release paperwork, while they brought her out to him.

“Hey, girl!” Sy called, as Aika charged for him. “Oh, I've missed you so much, bug!” He said, rubbing her erect ears and scratched down her back, making her back leg go wild. “I've got someone special I want you to meet.” He said, getting the German Shepherd into his truck. “You're going to love her.” He smiled at Aika, who licked his scruffy cheek.

“And she's probably going to spoil you rotten.” He chuckled, pulling out of the parking space.

“Oh shit.”

Lily gulped seeing the kicked up dust cloud on the driveway, as Sy's truck approached the house and felt her heart stop, knowing at any moment, she would be meeting his special lady in a matter of minutes. She had been trying all morning to put on a brave and supportive face, not wanting to make herself look like a fool in front of them. “I can't do this.” She gulped, running into the bathroom upstairs and vomited into the bowel several times, before quickly brushing and rinsing her mouth out.

“Afternoon, Lily!” Sy yelled, getting out and giving her a wave as she stepped out onto the porch, he was positively beaming. “You ready to meet her?” He asked, gripping the handle of the passenger door.

“Yep!” She called back, forcing a smile. “As I can be.” She mumbled under her breath as Sy opened the door.

A bark filled the humid air and a big German Shepherd jumped out of the truck, jumping on Sy a few times, before noticing Lily and bee-lining for her.

“Oh.” Lily gasped, surprised that Sy's special lady, was a dog. “Hey.” She grinned at Aika, bracing herself has Aika put her paws on her chest. “Aren't you a beauty.” She said, scratching her erect ears and relieved beyond all belief.

“See, I told you the two of you would get along.” Sy said, stepping up on the porch, relieved as well.

“That you did.” Lily agreed. “What's her name?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Aika.” He replied, scratching Aika all over. “I found her as a stray during my last deployment, she was just a pup. So, I took her in and took care of her. She's been stuck in Quarantine since before I got back, and they just released her today.” He explained as Aika bolted off the porch and zoomed around the front yard.

“You don't mind me having her here, do you?” He asked, biting the corner of his lip.

“Are you kidding?” Lily laughed, watching Aika disappear in the tall grass. “She's more than welcomed here.” She assured him, with a sweet smile. “Any time.”

“She's not really used to grass.” Sy laughed, as Aika attempted to pee on every blade she could. “You might get a few holes as well.” He added, knowing the Shepherd's like to dig.

“Please, I doubt anyone will notice.” Lily giggled, looking around the neglected yard.

Sy went to work on his latest project on the property and Aika spent most of the day running around the land, investigating what Sy was up to or lounging on the floor in Lily's office upstairs. Lily sighed and rubbed her face as the phone downstairs in the kitchen rang. She pushed back in her office chair and carefully stepped over Aika, to pad down the small set of stairs that led directly into the kitchen from the upstairs.

“Hello?” She chimed, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, waving at Sy as he passed the kitchen window and rounded the side of the house, then frowned, when no one answered her greeting. “Hello?” She repeated, a little bit louder. “Are you there?” She asked, checking to make sure the call was connected properly.

“What's wrong?” Sy frowned, stepping into the kitchen as the receiver fell to the floor at their feet.

“Nothing.” She squeaked, quickly bending to pick it up. “Just being clumsy.” She told him, hanging the phone up.

“Well, who was it?” He asked, tilting his head at her strange behavior.

“I don't know.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, not turning around to look at him. “They never said anything. Must have been a wrong number or something.” She told him, heart thundering in her chest. “I need to finish my work.” She said, then rushed upstairs, leaving Sy staring up after her.

“I talked to your neighbor, Billie Marlowe.” Sy said, tugging a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face and head with it.

“Oh?” Lily replied, stirring a bit of honey into her tea.

“Yeah, he said, his daughter, Skylar, would be competing in a barrel racing competition this Sunday, in Dallas.” He told her, studying her carefully. “I was wondering, if you had thought about, maybe, going with me?” He asked, licking his lips.

Lily froze, the container of liquid creamer hovering over her steaming cup as she stared across the table at him, eyes wide. “I-”

“Oh, come on.” Sy pressed, brow creasing. “It's my treat. I'll drive and everything. It'll do you some good to leave the house.” He tried coaxing her. “Just for an hour or two.”

Lily continued to stare at Sy, her hand growing sweaty around the plastic container, before she set it down, her shoulders slumping as she did. “All right. Only for a few hours, then we come back. I have a deadline.”

Sy burst into a grin, his blue eyes bright. “Great.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “It doesn't start until eight and her competition doesn't start until eight-thirty. So, we'll have plenty of time.” He told her, excited to go to the fair with her.

Three days later, Sy got Lily in the car and they drove forty-five minutes from Celina to Dallas. The first few minutes in the car was quiet, until Luna's nerves got the best of her.

“When was the last time you went to a fair?” She asked, looking at him.

“Oh, man.” Sy huffed, frowning out the windshield as he considered it. “I think I was sixteen, it was an end of the year thing for my Junior year at high school. I didn't go to my Senior one, since I was getting ready for basic training.” He told her.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Never.”

“You've never been to one?” Sy snapped, shocked.

“Nope.” She shook her head at him.

“Not even for school?”

“I was home schooled.” She explained. “My dad thought they were a suck and waste of money.”

“That's the point.” Sy laughed, shaking his head. “Wasting money on artery clogging food and probably unsafe rides. It's a rush, but mostly from all the sugar.” He grinned at her, amused.

“You'll love it, I swear.”

“I'll take your word for it, Captain.” Lily smiled back, hoping he didn't see how freaked out she was.

They finally reached the fair grounds and a place to park, Sy got them all access bracelets, so giddy as they entered the fair grounds. Lily took several deep breaths as the crowd around them thickened and stuck close to Sy. She really didn't want to ruin Sy's fun at the fair, he had been jabbering about it since she agreed to go with him, telling her about the all fun rides and food. He was like a little boy, reliving his first fair experience, and she knew it had been over ten years since he had been to one. So, she put on a brave face and tried to smile, every time he glanced at her.

Which was every few seconds.

Sy and Lily got on several rides to kill the half hour until the barrel-racing competition started under one of the big tents set up in the huge field. She rather enjoyed the Ferris wheel, just her and Sy in one seat, spaced out from everyone else on the ride. She did think she was going to throw up on the sudden drop ride, but managed to keep it down, making Sy laugh at her as he saw her face from the corner of his eye as the two of them got off the ride.

“You all right?” He chuckled, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“I think, my stomach is somewhere between my brain and my toes.” She chuckled, despite herself.

“It'll even out again.” Sy laughed with her, rubbing her back.

“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls,” the fair announcer came over the intercom system throughout the fair. “The Barrel-Racing Competition is due to start in ten minutes, in tent number six! So, find your seats now!” He informed the herd of fair-goers.

“Oh, we should head out that way.” Sy said, pulling out the little fair map and directed them towards the tent. “Why don't you find us a place to sit and I'll go get us something to munch and sip on.” He told her, at the tent's entrance.

“Sy..”

“It'll take two minutes.” He told her, squeezing her shoulder, then disappearing into the crowd that was trying to funnel into the tent.

“Fuck, Austin.” Lily gulped, starting to tremble as she turned into the tent and looked for somewhere to sit, before finding a place in the second row, near the exit.

Sy weaved around the countless people in the main walkway of the fair, before spotting a food vendor with something he thought Lily would love to try out and headed that direction, to standing in line. He was only in the line for a moment, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see who it was, breaking out into a smile.

“Mr. Marlowe.” He greeted the farmer, sticking his hand out to the other man.

“Please, just call me Billie.” Marlowe replied, smiling up at Sy and shook his hand.

“Sy.” Sy answered. “You must be excited to see your little girl compete.” He said, as they stood side by side and progressed through the line.

“That I am.” Billie beamed, like the proud papa he was. “I am surprised at you though.” He added, pulling off his John Deere hat, ran his hand through his short, salt and pepper hair, and rubbed the over-tanned skin of his neck.

“Why's that?” Sy frowned, shaking his head.

“I saw Ms. Lily with you.” Billie replied as they got to the counter. “My farm has been in my family for four generations. I knew the couple that lived at Ms. Lily's place, when I was a lad. They passed away and their kids didn't want to be farmers, so they sold the place and Ms. Lily bought it a few years back. In that time, I have never seen her leave the property. The closest I've ever seen was when she fetches the mail, and she does that in a jiffy.” He laughed, stepping up to one of the two cashiers, while Sy went to the other.

“What do you mean?” Sy frowned, then gave the cashier an order for two elephant ears, a coke for himself and a Dr. Pepper for Lily.

“Oh.” Billie frowned, realizing Sy had no clue.

“'Oh', what?” Sy pressed, annoyed.

“You don't know about Ms. Lily being Agoraphobic?” Billie asked slowly, blinking at Sy with a shocked look. “I thought you knew. Practically everyone in Celina knows about it. My boy, Travis, who works at the Celina supermarket, even gets her groceries for her and delivers them, and everything.”

Sy floundered, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I didn't.” He sighed, clearing his throat. “I just thought she was a home-body.” He said, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose she is a home-body, it's just a bit more complicated than that.”

He felt silly, all of the signs were there, right in front of his oblivious face. He had never seen her leave the property in the weeks he was there working. She was always, either, in the house or on the porch, the furthest from the house he had ever seen her was the mailbox. She got clearly anxious about any mention of leaving to go anywhere, and her car hadn't moved since the first time he saw it in the dirt driveway. Everything made so much sense to him now, with the sudden realization he had left her, alone, in a tent full of complete strangers.

“Shit!” He barked, taking the food and drinks and rushing back to the tent. “Are you okay?” He asked, as soon as he found her in the crowded stands.

“Other than starving, I'm all right.” She replied, looking up at him.

“You're sure?” He asked and sat down beside her, he could see the tremble in her shoulders. “You're shaking.” He pointed out, his brow creasing with concern.

Why did I push her into this! He berated himself mentally.

“I'm just cold.” She frowned back, which wasn't a complete lie, it was rather nippy out and she had left her jacket in the truck.

“Oh.” Sy gulped at her, setting their snacks down on the empty bench in front of them and peeled off his Five Finger Death Punch hoodie. “Here.” He said, handing her the toasty warm garment.

“Thanks.” She blushed, pulling it on.

The comforting warmth of the fabric settled around her, wrapping her up in Sy's scent of dark vanilla, the fresh cut pine boards he had been working with, fresh air and patchouli, from his beard oil. The tremor vibrating through her body instantly subsided as she huddled herself up inside Sy's hoodie, suddenly feeling safe, safer than she had ever felt in her life before, the murmur of the crowd vanished and everyone melted away, but Sy.

Sy smiled at her, watching as she stopped shaking. “Are you still hungry?” He asked her, picking up the heavy paper plate with the lumpy and sweet pastry dough on it, covered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar.

“What in the world is that?” She frowned down at it.

“It's called an Elephant Ear.” He chuckled, letting her take the plate from him and picked up his own. “It's delicious.”

“It's as big as one!” She chuckled, balancing it in her lap and pushed up the oversized sleeves of Sy's hoodie, not wanting to get it messy as she tore a piece of the dough off and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.” She melted, licking her coated lips. “That is sinful.” She moaned, smiling over at Sy, who simply folded his and took a massive bite out of it.

“I told you!” He mumbled around his mouthful, grinning ear to ear.

“I might have to learn how to make these.” Lily said, tearing off a bigger piece and licked her fingers clean of the cinnamon and sugar combination.

“Oh, don't threaten to spoil a man!” Sy laughed, gently touching his shoulder to hers.

“Hey, here she is!” Lily called out, pointing to the girl entering the center of the tent atop a horse. “They look so good together!” She grinned, beaming with her own dose of pride in Skylar and Juniper.

Lily lifted her hand and waved as Skylar looked out over the crowd, she spotted Lily and waved back at her, smiling. Skylar got herself and Juniper into position, taking deep breaths to try and settle her jittery nerves and focus on her task ahead. Skylar was given the signal and she was off, speeding as fast as she and Juniper could go towards the first barrel in front of them. Lily scooted towards the edge of her seat, her half eaten elephant ear forgotten in her excitement. Skylar seemingly sailed through the cloverleaf pattern she had to make around the barrels and back to her mark.

The crowd clapped as she went out, letting the next rider and their horse take their turn at the competition. Lily finished off her elephant ear and sipped at her Dr. Pepper, eyes glued to the beautiful horses and focused riders as they went around and around the barrels, kicking up dirt as they went.

“I really hope she wins.” Lily said, looking at Sy, only to realize he had been watching her the whole time, and not the racers. “What?” She squeaked, eyes wide. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” He smiled back, then chuckled. “Well..” He picked up the paper napkin he was given with the elephant ears and gently brushed off a line of brown sugar and cinnamon that Lily had on her cheek. “Just a little sugar.” He told her, softly.

“But, other than that, you're...” He paused for a moment. “Perfect.” He whispered, breathlessly.

Lily gulped and her cheeks warmed, biting the inside of her lip and fidgeted inside Sy's hoodie. “Thank you.” She mumbled back. “For the..” She motioned to her cheek, shyly.

“Of course.” Sy nodded, a tender smile on his lips. “But, I hope she wins too.” He added, turning back to the event.

“All right everybody, it's time to announce the winners for first, second and third place!” The announcer said, standing in the middle of the racing area, a microphone in his hand and a big cowboy hat on his head, as his boots shined with their spurs.

Lily crossed her fingers, making Sy chuckle at her.

“In third place is,” the announcer said, lifting a clipboard he was holding. “Paige Whitley with thirty-four seconds!”

The crowd clapped and whistled as the girl came up and took her ribbon for third place, then stood to one side of the announcer.

“In second place is, Ainsley Ortega with twenty-eight seconds!”

Another round of claps, whistling and yells from the crowd as she took her place beside Paige. There was a moment of pause and the suspense was starting to drive Lily stir crazy as they waited for him to announce the first place winner.

“and the first place winner of the Dallas Heritage Fair is,” He paused for a dramatic affect. “Skylar Marlowe with twenty-one seconds!”

“Yes!” Lily shouted, her arms flying up as she bounced in her seat, overjoyed. “She did it, Sy.” She grinned at him, throwing her arms around his neck, in her moment of overzealous excitement, forgetting herself.

“She did.” Sy grinned, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back.

He unconsciously turned his face into her hair and took a deep breath, smelling her Lavender and Rosemary shampoo in it. They stayed like that, in a timeless bubble, before they recalled themselves and pulled apart again.

“I'm sorry, I was excited.” Lily blushed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Same.” Sy replied, clearing his throat. “I should get you back home now, it's been two hours.” He said, picking up their empty plates, napkins and soda cans, standing.

“I-” Lily froze, watching him dump them into a trash bin nearby. “I don't—mind—staying another hour, if you're not.” She told him, a hard lump in her throat. “I mean, there's so much of the fair I haven't seen, since it's my first time, and you spent a pretty penny on our access bracelets.” She said, lifting her arm, the sleeve of his hoodie slipped down her arm, revealing her red bracelet.

“Be rude and a shame to waste it, don't you think?” She asked, staring at him, shyly.

Sy studied her for a moment, weighing what he knew of her now, but she looked and seemed all right, for the most part, just her usual shy and withdrawn self. “If you want too, Lily. Then, I'm more than all right with staying and showing you the rest of the booths.” He said, his voice soft and—protective.

“I would like that.”

Sy smiled at her, gently, then offered her his arm, which she took. He escorted them out of the tent, with the rest of the fair-goers. Sy took her around the fair ground, stopping at booths that Lily showed interest in. He paused at one booth, seeing all the stuffed animals that were hanging around it and pressed his lips together, before glancing at her and deciding to give it a shot, wanting to win something for her, so when she saw it, she'd remember the fun she had at the fair; and think of him.

It was a shooting game booth, giving the player a minute to hit as many targets as they could, each target was worth a certain amount of points and moved quickly. But, Sy wasn't at all worried, this was his element, his military career made something like this easy. So, he took up the bee-bee rifle that the booth runner gave him, slotted it against his shoulder and held it through pure muscle memory. He patiently waited for the signal for him to start, watching the painted metal targets move on their tracks.

“Ready!” the booth runner called, standing to the side. “Set! Go!”

Sy's body instantly tensed and he started firing, his movement was sharp, quick and calculated, hips and shoulders pivoting as he hit each of the targets, only missing two in the full minute he had. Lily stood beside him, fully impressed by his skill.

“Seven hundred and forty-nine points.” the booth runner read off the scoreboard at the back of the booth. “That's the highest score yet!” He said, impressed himself. “You have a pick of whatever you want, sir.” He told Sy, motioning around to the stuffed animals, some were super teeny, while others were nearly Lily's size.

Sy surveyed the selection of stuffed animals, before a certain one caught his attention and smiled at it, it was perfect for why he wanted it. “That's the one.” He said, pointing out the medium sized, curly furred and light tan, teddy bear.

“A perfect choice, sir.” the booth runner praised him, taking it down and handing it over to Sy.

“Here.” Sy smiled, turning and holding it out to Lily. ���He's for you.” He told her, gently, as his heart thundered in his chest.

Lily slowly took the bear from him, it was silk soft and plush, it felt nice under her hands, making her instantly smile as she stared down at it. She was touched that Sy had gone through the trouble of winning the game to get her a prize, no one had ever done something so kind, sweet and thoughtful for her before, it made her a bit emotional.

“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging it to her chest and looked up at Sy. “I love it.” She assured him, seeing the concern in his blue eyes that she wouldn't.

“Good.” He beamed, his heart still thundering, but it felt light and hopeful. “I'm glad.”

It was nearly dark by the time Lily and Sy finished their tour of the fair grounds and headed back to the house. Lily convinced Sy to stay for dinner before he headed back home, wanting to thank him in someway for taking her to the fair and showing her such a good time, something she hadn't had in as long as she could remember.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze me.” Sy chuckled, popping the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth. “It's the definition of a great home cooked meal.” He praised her, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his lean tummy through the fabric of his shirt.

“Well, you have the appetite of a Viking.” She giggled back, blushing at her plate.

Sy laughed again, his own bearded cheeks coloring. “True enough.” He agreed, smiling brightly at her.

“Thank you for taking me today.” Lily said, speaking softly. “I really did have a lot of fun.” She confessed, shyly twisting her napkin in her hands, and thinking of the teddy bear that now took up a prized spot on her bed, upstairs.

“I did too, I'm glad you agreed to go with me.” Sy nodded, tilting his head at her. “Did us both a great deal of good to get out and do something fun.”

“I should let you take off, before it gets too late.” She answered, after a brief moment of silence. “I know it's a long drive.”

Sy cleared his throat, biting the inside of his lip, he didn’t want to bring up staying at the motel down in Celina, so the drive was easier to make and gave him more hours in the day to work on the seemingly endless list of projects that needed to be done, to get the farm back into running order, again. He didn’t want them to argue after such an amazing day.

But, he knew she was right.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said, taking his plate to the sink, wanting a reason to linger a second longer. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He smiled at her, as they stepped out onto the porch. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“I'll be here, with coffee and breakfast waiting, as always.” She replied, standing barefoot on the smooth and solid board of the porch.

He chuckled, bidding her good night again and got into his truck. As he drove to the motel, he recalled all the smiles she had given him throughout the day and the sound of her victorious laugh, when she beat him at the ring toss game, but sweetly gave him the bracelet she won, making him glance at the macrame, blue and gold turquoise beads weaved with black thread and tied with a slip knot, that hugged his thick wrist. His skin tingled as it remembered the gentle touch of her dainty fingers as she slipped it over his hand to his wrist and tugged it secure.

Sy wasn't a jewelry person, other than his watch and his dog-tags, but for as long as he lived, he vowed to never take that bracelet off.

[seriouslysam8]

Hi I’m new here. I finished Brontide, Kalopsia, entombed, and Im currently reading Legerdemain. I’ve been told those are your big fics. All very well written stories by the way. But can I ask why your favorite ship is Hinny? There seems to be a lot of, how can I it, issues in their relationship. Especially ones that involve Harry not communicating with Ginny and them having a lot of disagreements over problems that are usually caused by the same thing every time: Harry being the way he is and it causing problems with him and Ginny. It seems like Harry can’t even function without Ginny and needs her to live, whereas Ginny seems to have trouble being married to him and having to mother him a lot. I’m not saying their a bad couple! I really love the ship in itself. It’s just that they seem to struggle a lot in your stories so I’m just wondering why/how they’re your favorite. You also seem to like Ron more than Harry so I’m curious as to why you prefer Harry and Ginny fics over Ron fics?

I’m just curious. Anyway, I really love your fics and I find them super interesting to read. Your angst is very well done and I’m excited to read the rest of your stories :-)

Harry and Ginny are my favorite ship because they’re perfect for one another. They have the same sense of humor, the same urge to protect their friends and loved ones, the same sense of bravery, and they understand some of each other’s trauma.

I write Hinny as a realistic couple. I’m not here to write them lovey dovey and have no issues. Everyone has baggage. Everyone has their issues. Every couple has their issues. You want to find someone who loves you despite your baggage. You want to find someone who loves you in the bad times AND the good times. That’s Hinny.

Harry was abused and neglected by the people who were supposed to love him the most. He was beaten and starved. All this happened at a very critical age. That kind of trauma and abuse stays with a person. They can have issues as an adult. They need that reassurance. They analyze things people say looking for the next blow to happen because that’s how they were raised. Harry’s made leaps and bounds in his life to overcome that abuse and the effects it’s had on him, but it rears it’s ugly head when things are bad.

Ginny never had that trauma. She never was abused. She came from a big and wonderful family. She was loved unconditionally. It breaks her heart when Harry is doubting himself because she loves him and wants him to see himself the way she sees him. But Ginny did have trauma with the diary. Sure, Ginny was popular but I headcanon she was never really close with any of her friends. She didn’t spill her biggest secrets to just anyone. She never felt safe with anyone. Harry makes her feel safe.

Harry would burn down a fucking village to save Ginny and the kids. He’s kind and funny and gentle and brave and he loves so fiercely. Ginny loves Harry for all those qualities. When things are good, things are really fucking good. But when things are bad, Harry can have some issues from his past trauma. Ginny loves him enough to help him work out those issues and reassure him.

I don’t see Ginny as mothering him. I see her as supporting her husband and loved one. Life isn’t roses and daisies. We all have issues we deal with and trauma always crops up when you don’t need it to. Helping each other through the bad times is a sign of a good fucking couple. It’s the kind of relationship everyone should want and strive for. They love each other so fucking much that it hurts.

I love Ron. He’s funny and engaging and a good fucking friend. But, like Ginny, he came from a loving and wonderful family. While he’s seen some stuff, he doesn’t have as much traumas as Hinny. So while I love Ron, he’s not interesting enough to write an entire story about. There’s not enough internal conflict with him to satisfy my angst-craving heart.

[fanmoose12]

a small thing i've written, a companion piece to the devil you know. doesn't really takes place during the timeline of that fic, but i just liked the idea so much (thanks @unrelenting-jazz-hands smh) that still decided to write it! slight nsfw ahead!

If that was one of Armin's jokes, it was a terrible one.

Watch over him while I figure out what to do, he said, as though Levi could look at that monster without feeling like running through something - or better yet, someone- with a sword.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Captain?" the beast asked from his place inside the cell. Levi answered him with a deadly glare that Zeke simply ignored. He was getting too comfortable around him, the bastard.

"I know you and Professor Hange had quite a history, but I’ve always wondered…" the fucker smirked, and Levi's hands instinctively curled into fists. "Was it strictly platonic? If so, I must say it’s quite a loss on your part. She’s very good in bed."

Levi reacted instantly.

The asshole stood too close to the bars that separated them. Big mistake. Levi grabbed him by the collar, bringing the beast down to his eye level. Zeke choked, his eyes open wide.

"You think our so called alliance means something to me? I’ve agreed to keep you alive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you. And if I hear her name coming out of your shitty mouth one more time, beast, you'll be gathering your bones all over this cell. I hope I made myself clear enough. I hate repeating the obvious."

He threw him on the ground, and the sight of Zeke looking so miserable with his ass on the floor almost lifted his sour mood.

Almost because the fucker's words were still ringing in his ears.

He had no reason to care, she certainly didn't, but god, did Zeke's words strike a chord. He needed... he needed to take a deep breath. Clear his head, get his thoughts into order.

He marched out of the murky dungeon, leaving Zeke's cell behind.

Subconsciously, because his mind was his biggest offender, so very soon Levi found himself standing in front of another cell.

Jean was inside, discussing something with her in hushed tones.

This almost made him stop - the hell Kirshtein was doing there? Didn't he use to despise her? Wasn't he the one who shouted 'fucking betrayer' the loudest?

Didn't matter, not now. Now the only thing that mattered—

"Get out, Kirshtein," he yanked the boy upwards, his eyes never leaving those deep brown ones.

"Captain—"

"Get. Out." he growled. "And make sure no one comes in here. I need to have a chat with our prisoner. A very long one. "

"Captain, I—"

"Hurry up, Kirshtein," he reminded, shifting his gaze for a second to glare at him.

Jean seemed unsure, Jean seemed scared, but he didn't dare to disobey.

He threw a cautious look to Hange, and she gave him a kind smile, silently telling him that she had everything under control.

It was cute of her to think this way. It was also very wrong.

All thirty two seconds it took Jean to leave the dungeons, Levi didn't take his eyes of her. Hange stared right back, completely unsuspecting. Or, maybe - more probably - daring beyond realms of sanity.

As soon as he heard the door closed, Levi moved. He lifted her from the chair she was sitting on, slamming her hips against the table. The old wood creaked, and somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered if the shitty furniture would break under their weight. Even if it did, it wasn't enough to make him stop.

He grabbed the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. The kiss was rough, aggressive and deep. Hange answered with the same vigor, pulling him even closer.

It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. But having her back in his arms made him feel whole.

The place, where she had put her hands, burned. Her touch was just as intoxicating, just as invigorating as he remembered. It almost made him forget. It made pretending almost possible.

If he just turned off the sensible part of his brain, he could pretend that everything was fine. They weren't making out on a rackety table in a dusty dungeon inside a prison cell where Hange was put for betraying them.

No, they were in her room, and he had come to distract Hange away from work and catch up on all the time they’ve been too busy to see each other.

Gripping her waist tighter, he could almost pretend that he was angry at her for making him feel neglected, not betraying him and having his heart ripped out and smashed into million pieces.

"Does he make you feel so good?" he demanded to know, moving down to bite at the spot he knew made her tremble.

"Wh- what-"

She was already stuttering, already breathing hard against him. Good, he was almost satisfied.

But after four years of trying to hate and despise her, after four years of yearning for her, he needed more.

"Does he?" he repeated, taking his lips of her for a second to stare into her eyes.

"No," Hange breathed out. With fingers that had no right to be so gentle, she cradled his face. "No one made me feel as good as you did, Levi."

Fuck.

He wanted to hate her, he thought he did, but just the sound of his voice on her lips, and he was coming undone.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. He meant for it to come out as an order. It sounded more like a plea instead.

"What?" she asked, her fingers softly playing with his hair.

"My name," he closed his eyes. Her scent, her touch, her voice - it was all too much. "Say it again."

"Levi," Hange kissed him, starting with his lips then moving lower, forcing him to throw back his head and press his lips together. "Levi," she murmured against the skin of his neck. "Le-"

He didn't let her finish. His lips on hers prevented it. It was time to take some of the control back.

He straddled her hips, making a slight rocking motion.

Hange reacted to it instantly. "Levi."

The way she moaned it - it was enough to make him moan too.

"God, I missed this," she hummed, as he nipped at her neck.

Levi froze, moving up to look her in the eyes. "You did?" the question stumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

He knew Hange most certainly didn't mean it. People tended to say stupid things during heat of the moment. It wasn't love that put those words out, it was lust. And as a child of a prostitute, raised in underground brothel, he knew very well that those things didn't always overlap.

Certainly not in their case.

"Of course, I did," Hange answered. She tugged at his hair, stopping him from sucking a hickey on her collarbone. She made him look at her, and what he saw on her face was enough to break his heart for the thousandth times. Hange looked... Hange looked sincere. Hange looked like she meant it. Hange looked... Like she cared about him. "I missed you, Levi," she murmured, curving her lips in a smile.

It was the first smile he had seen on her face ever since she had left. The sight of it left him more breathless than their previous activities.

And they call us devils, he thought.

If he was the devil, then she was a witch.

How else to explain her ability to bewitch him like this?

He pushed her down onto the table, pressing her to the hard surface. Hange didn't seem to mind the rough treatment, if her moans and whimpers were any indication.

His hands roamed over her body, touching in all the right places, spots that made her even more desperate.

His name tumbled from her lips over and over again, making him dizzy.

He left bruises and bite marks whenever he touched. She wasn't his, never was, but, god, pretending that she was was extremely addicting.

Hange wasn't gentle as well. She grabbed, bit and sucked whatever part of skin Levi had allowed her to.

"Tell me, Levi," she left a wet kiss on his cheek, moving to his ear. "Did you do it with someone else while I was away?"

Witch.

He pushed her down again, flipping her over and pressing her face into the table.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Hange," he growled, covering her body with his. He grabbed her wrists, keeping them together. "Don't you dare to move."

Hange, like a fucking psycho she always pretended to be, started laughing.

"Levi!" she moaned, as he bit down on her shoulder. "We should do this more often!"

"This is the last time, four-eyes," he promised, subconsciously using the old, affectionate nickname.

Hange laughed again, turning her head around to give him a sly, knowing look.

"The last fucking time," he repeated.

He came back the very next day.

[feliix]

Crush Culture ✦ KTH (18+)

✦ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

✦ Rating: M ✦ Word Count: 14k (screams)

✦ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fake dating!au

✦ Summary:  Once summer hits and you return to work at the local ice cream shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of relationships and love, but it’s Taehyung’s mission to make you reconsider by the end of the summer.

✦ Warnings: childhood friends 2 lovers, idiots 2 lovers unprotected sex, fingering, pining, soft sex, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships, Tae is kinda a player but he turns out alright

✦ A/N: a big big thank you to the lovely @hobiance​​ for helping me plan yet another fic and @jinned​ for giving me the much needed support and hyping me up until I finished my first long boi ilysm ♡ also thank you to my lovely beta @jinterlude​ who I would be completely illiterate without! the most beautiful banner you’ve ever seen is made by none other than my baby @koophoriia​ ily bunbunbun

Written for the BHQ Bangtan Boardwalk Collaboration

Taglist: @krystle1990​ @imluckybitches​

“Gross”

Another couple. Probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this evening alone. The shop is packed full of them on warm nights like this.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t far from the truth. Relationships suck. Been there, done that.

You always keep the same theory; relationships either end in heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage can still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being dramatic,” Taehyung laughs after catching your snide remark from around the corner. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy, to say the least. The sun is setting, and it’s the perfect time for families and couples alike to come in and get a cold and tasty treat, especially on a day as hot as this one. It’s over 100º, and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Taehyung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath.

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss is kind of an asshole, leaving 2 ‘kids’ in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. Probably at the bar across the street, since his car is still parked in the back, but he’s nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than having him loom over your shoulder and critique your scooping texture the whole shift.

“Whatever you say,” Taehyung shakes his head.

Unlike yourself, Taehyung is a hopeless romantic, always looking for love in the wrong places. It always seems that his relationships never work out though, which has always confused you – Taehyung is a great guy.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left.

“Just under an hour, we should start the closing checklist so we can get outta here,” Tae responds as he reaches for the rag and sanitation bucket.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave at 8 o’clock on the dot. You’ll be damned if a customer comes in at 7:58, but there's always one Karen that comes as you’re about to lock the doors. You hate those Karens.

Lucky for you, closing tonight went as smoothly as it can go. You and Taehyung are ready to go at 8 on the dot, clocking out and locking up behind you.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Taehyung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was gonna go home and sleep…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. You know his eyes are much too convincing to look into, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Booooo you’re boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, turning around to meet his suggestive smirk. He knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to argue back with him. So you tilt your head, waiting for him to explain what he has in mind.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

And with that, you’re starting the ignition to your car and racing home, carefully, of course.

Taehyung is always spontaneous like this.

After making it home and rushing to get ready, Taehyung was there to pick you up, a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course. When you end up at your favorite boba spot, you know Taehyung wants to talk about something. He never wants to sit down at a place like this just for small talk, you’ve picked up on his signs and can read him like a book.

But when you finally get your drink and sit at your favorite table in the back corner, he doesn’t say much. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up. His eyes staring down at his drink instead of sipping it, hands rested in his lap with his lip caught between his teeth. It’s puzzling, slightly, you thought he wanted to hang out tonight and do something adventurous…

The awkward silence and lack of gestures from Taehyung is starting to make you uncomfortable, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“How are things going with that girl,” you ask before bringing the straw of your tea to your lips, sipping nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “it didn’t really work out.”

When it comes to Taehyung, relationships never really seem to work out. To say it lightly, he is extremely picky. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh,  and then the one before that bit her nails.

Eventually, his pickiness has become a trend to the point that Taehyung will entertain a girl for a month or so. Then, he'll find something so minuscule within the said girl and turn it into a dealbreaker. The nit-picking things are way too much to move past for Taehyung. It’s clear that he is in search of the ‘perfect woman,’ like that even exists.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, is it really worth it to put all your effort into something like that? There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s taken back by your statement, his eyebrows furrowing in response as he waits for your answer.

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway?”

His question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Taehyung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and answer his question.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your boba once again.

“Not all guys are dead-beats, you know.”

His words come out harsh, almost as if he finds your words offensive. Like you are meaning to group him in with all the guys you’ve dated in the past. Which is strange, Taehyung knows that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You can’t talk to guys, or most people like you talk to Taehyung. He’s the one you rant about the dead-beats to, along with everything else under the sun. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence Taehyung’s expression changes, his eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you see often, and you couldn’t say that you would ever be used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Taehyung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words leave his lips, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle leaves his lips. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do?”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Taehyung. And Taehyung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your tea from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“So you’re like dating dating?” Lainey’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on her face as you spill about your night with Taehyung.

Lainey is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Taehyung of course. Not that she shares the hatred herself, she just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know how you felt.

Along with Taehyung, Lainey is your best friend. And she’s the only person in this world that you can bear to work a double with on a Saturday.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the scoops behind you. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday afternoon, not many customers have come in since you opened up at 11.

That’s the thing about working at an ice cream shop – it sucks when it's slow, and it sucks when it's busy. Though it isn't a miserable job, you at least have Tae and Lainey to keep you company.

The smirk on Lainey’s face hasn’t disappeared since you told her about Taehyung’s deal. She’s shocked that you actually agreed to something like this, especially since it’s with Taehyung. The same Taehyung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled like peaches.’ It’s only a matter of time until Taehyung finds your own deal-breaking trait.

“For the record,” you turn to look at Lainey, a grin still evident on her face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind.”

“Y/N,” Lainey whines as she draws out the last syllable of your name, plopping herself down in a chair to pout. “Stop being so…so…”

“So?”

Her face crinkles as she racks her brain for the word, rubbing her temples in hopes that it will come to her. Your eyebrow crooks in response, a slight chuckle leaving your lips as you wait.

“Pessimistic!” Lainey’s face lights up as it finally comes to her. She does have a point. It’s been a while since you actually let anyone in

“You know Taehyung, you never know, maybe something could happen,” her eyebrows lift at the end of her sentence, too suggestively for your own comfort.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. I know Taehyung, he’ll be over it in 2 weeks.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of her voice is raised teasingly. She doesn’t believe this will be a two-week thing.

Lainey has been friends with you and Taehyung for 4 summers now. Once she started working at the ice cream shop with you two it was an automatic connection. Letting her into your little clique with no hesitation, you quickly became 3 peas in a pod.

But Lainey sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You had grown up with Taehyung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Lainey, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

She sees the way Taehyung looks at you and how he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth. How he longs to make you laugh, watching you with a growing grin each time a chuckle passes through your lips. She notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is she to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in her mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the glass cover of the freezer beneath you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Taehyung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

“He’s picking me up after work”

“Oooh he’s picking you up?”

“Shut up,” your eyes roll at her teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy it’s making you. It’s just Taehyung, and you are just hanging out like you do every other night.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Lainey. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Taehyung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Taehyung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8pm.  What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Taehyung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Taehyung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Taehyung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a manageable sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his own to light up and beam across the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the coffee ice cream stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth.

He dressed a lot nicer than usual attire; a dress shirt with a loose pair of slacks dressing his slim figure. His hair is light too, much different than the dark brown curls that frame his face. He’s really going all out for this – and you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and an ice cream stained t-shirt.

Lainey is just as stunned as you are, frozen in her spot with her jaw practically on the floor. She looks at you with wide eyes, her eyebrows raising as a smug expression crosses her face. You look in her direction, about to ask if she’s alright to finish closing on her own, but before you’re able to say anything she’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, he hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“As do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

An interesting yet on-brand response from Taehyung. He’s a big fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination seems long. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between the agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time All you know is that you’ve been driving through backroads for at least 15 minutes, and the destination doesn’t seem anywhere near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing such a great job illuminating things. Your eyebrow crooks unintentionally – this was it?

Your eyes wander outward as Taehyung parks the car, unable to see anything further than a 10-foot radius.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Taehyung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Taehyung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that  leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Taehyung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Taehyung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Taehyung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Taehyung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

Woah woah woah. It’s just Taehyung. Taehyung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Tae and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Taehyung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Taehyung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Taehyung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the ice cream shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Lainey teases, her chin falling into her palm as she leans on the freezer before her, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Taehyung chuckles at her nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told her all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Taehyung felt like the odd man out around you both.

“It was good.”

Taehyung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to her imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell or to not kiss and tell either. Things are better that way.

“Just good?” Lainey challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. Her eyes narrow as she waits for his response. You haven’t told her anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end.

Taehyung glances back at her, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans.It would be nice to have someone else to confide in since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this is the one secret that you can't know.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Lainey. Not that Taehyung is looking to pry, he just has no indication to how you feel about last night, or about him.

Before Taehyung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Lainey’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – she knows something.

“You like her,” she muses, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now, and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but clear as day to Lainey – and that is more than enough to make Taehyung worry.

“I don’t,” He denies her claim, his willpower too strong to give into her.

“Oh yeah? Why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

Her words catch Taehyung off guard, his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny her claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Lainey is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Taehyung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know?”

Was he really that obvious? Did it show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Taehyung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Lainey is just joking around. That she doesn’t actually know the one thing he’s been holding onto for so long.

She doesn’t have to respond for him to know the answer. The quirk of her eyebrow and knowing expression on her face says enough.

“Well you can’t tell her,” he sighs, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered floors. Lainey turns to look at him staring down in distress, a sympathetic glance directed at him. He’s worried you’ll find out.

You can’t find out. If you do, then all bets will be off. Once you know Taehyung’s feelings for you there is no way that you’ll let your little arrangement continue. He knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, or at least as far as you know.

Lainey bears her weight on the cooler behind her, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “I want her to be done with this ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” her fingers mock air quotes as she continues, “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Taehyung’s heart skips a beat as the words leave her mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers what she just said. He’s confused as to what she means. You agreed to fake-date him, but you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Lainey watching him as his lips roll between his teeth as he’s deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in his mind like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, for the right reasons; so that you won’t be so miserable. But behind those selfless reasons come with smaller selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too.

“Like you think…” he gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Lainey gives is ominous, but the raise of her eyebrows and toothy grin forming on her face needs no words to tell. If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Taehyung.

That night Taehyung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you can recall it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Taehyung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped 2 cones on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave them there without cleaning anything up. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Taehyung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Taehyung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got. 

It’s been 12 days since you became Taehyung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night two when ice cream cones landed on the shop floor face down, sprinkles and all. Spending time with Taehyung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Taehyung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Taehyung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Taehyung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Taehyung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Taehyung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N” Lainey says waving a hand in your face. You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Tae?”

“What,” she catches you off guard, straightening your posture and brushing yourself off before responding to her, “no…just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from her lips, turning away from you as she wipes off a table in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Lainey out of the loop during this whole fake-boyfriend Taehyung thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Lainey the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. What if you are just in the honeymoon-phase? If these feelings for Taehyung are only because he’s trying his best to woo you, and then they’ll just fade away as things return back to normal.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Lainey for her to know. Every time Tae picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide she’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Lainey’s eyes. She knows you too well to look over things like this, she just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Lainey has decided to take matters into her own hands, asking you about it herself.

“Lainey,” you start, waiting for her attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for her to follow suit. She does, a questioning but knowing look evident on her face as she joins you. “You know how this thing between Taehyung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

She nods in response, her hand quickly falling into her palm as she listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

Her question is more for clarification, she wants to hear you say it herself. She knows that you’re gonna tell her you caught feelings. She sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the ice cream cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at her. You can feel the grin on her face. You know she's smirking at you right now, doing her best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you got over your ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face her.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Lainey hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on her face can't grow any larger, but it does. She jumps up from her chair in victory, doing a funny dance with her arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Lainey smiles, her happy dance subsiding as she sits back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.”

Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring outlining each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the girl sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Lainey’s your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Taehyung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be.

Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face, falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles. 

A sympathetic sigh leaves Lainey’s lips as she tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face her – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank God it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like  

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Taehyung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something. 

It’s not until Lainey is rising from her seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Taehyung,” she starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-What’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Lainey is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. She doesn’t want to speak for you; but she’s scared of saying something that can make this situation worse.

Her mouth gapes as she searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing and she hums to find the right words. They don’t come.

The umbrella hanging from Taehyung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Lainey as she jumps at the sudden sound. But before she is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Taehyung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Taehyung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Lainey. She’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an ice cream shop. 

After Taehyung left she came back and let you know; she almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let her in. She told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Taehyung; to think about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Taehyung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Taehyung. He’s your personal diary, the one who knows all the shit that nobody else knows and listens to all the shit that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Taehyung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Taehyung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Taehyung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Taehyung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Taehyung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Lainey standing there with an umbrella in her hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

She pushes past you and to your living room, plopping down on your couch and making herself comfortable as she waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to her, plopping down beside her.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as she hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Taehyung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves her lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was she giving it to you, why was she here, and why did she have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” She says sternly, her eyes locked on you as she waits for you to look back at her. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Taehyung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Taehyung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves her mouth gently, a sigh following it before she reached for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Lainey,” you let out an annoyed sigh, “you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to him. If you could, you would, but you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” she sighs, this time more forceful, she’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.”

Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” she mumbles, her eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped.

Eyes wide with confusion, they’re begging her to go on, but if she does then Taehyung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. You can’t know what she knows.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” she stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Lainey is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Taehyung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces. 

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Taehyung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are  no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Taehyung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind. 

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Taehyung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times. 

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand. 

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Taehyung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way. 

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story. 

Taehyung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Taehyung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never pries.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him. 

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen. 

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely. 

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate. 

“Taehyung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say. 

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape. 

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Taehyung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop. 

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price. 

“Y/N, I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Taehyung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Taehyung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips. 

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration. 

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Taehyung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Taehyung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten. 

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this. 

Slowly, Taehyung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh. 

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts. 

In a leisurely motion, Taehyung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Taehyung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his. 

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Taehyung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body.  Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Taehyung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him. 

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen each other naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Taehyung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.” 

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?” 

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Taehyung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Taehyung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Luckily, Taehyung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down. 

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Taehyung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more. 

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. 

In one swift motion, Taehyung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction. 

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else. 

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Taehyung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Taehyung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it. 

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips. 

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched. 

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Taehyung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out. 

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Taehyung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Taehyung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Taehyung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Taehyung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full. 

You’ve always felt close to Taehyung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Taehyung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still confident. His tone doesn’t falter.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

Crush culture once made you want to spill your guts. Every guy sucked, relationships were stupid and love was a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Taehyung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right in front of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

‘Crush Culture’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[strangeradventuresofp]

neglect (five x reader)

requested by : @stitched-mouth - Hi! I'm not sure if requests are open but if they are, can I request a slight angst fic for Five X Reader? They've been married a while but the reader accidentally admits that she doesn't feel much love from Five, and he needs to reassure her? Maybe being caught up in trying to stop the apocalypse from happening and looking for his siblings made Five unknowingly neglect his wife 👀? Could it even be a little bit of a jealous reader 👀? Thank you!

a/n : ty for the request love!! hope u enjoy<333

Your sullen eyes watched the pouring rain through the misty windows as your siblings mumbled between each other. All their words seemed to turn to white noise in your ears and as you looked through the glass pane, the water droplets on the outside mirrored those falling down your face, racing to land on the fabric of your clothes.

Klaus watched you from the other side of the room, a drink in one of his hands. He sighed, not bothering to listen to your siblings and instead coming to sit beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, earning a small smile from your lips.

“Hey, sis. You okay?” His voice was quiet, which you appreciated. You didn’t want anyone else to know that you had been crying, there were more important things to be worrying about right now, like the apocalypse.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Turning your head slightly to smile at him, he ruffled the top of your hair before subtly swiping away the tear stains down your cheeks.

“All this talk about the end of all times really gets ya down, huh?” You chuckled at his words, glancing over to the rest of your siblings for a moment before turning away.

“Yeah, something like that.” Klaus frowned when you spoke, noticing the longing in your eyes when you looked over at Five.

“Ah, trouble in paradise?”

“Not exactly. Five hasn’t exactly been the most talkative since we got back, unless it involves the apocalypse. I guess I just wish he made some time for me, even a few minutes. It sounds ridiculous, I know.”

“No, no, not at all. I get it, totally.” Klaus took a large gulp from his glass after he reassured you, deeply sighing afterwards. “Can’t imagine that him ignoring you makes you feel the greatest.”

“No, not ignoring me, just… He has other priorities right now and for good reason. I just wish he could, you know, balance his time a little better.”

“Y/N, you’re his wife. You should be his top priority.”

“I guess I am, in the long run. He’s so focused on the apocalypse because he wants to save me. He wants to save all of us.”

“Can you guys stop the mindless chit-chat and actually help us with this?” You and Klaus whipped your heads around to find the rest of your siblings staring at you, and Five looked particularly angry. Muttering a sorry, you joined the others, standing beside Diego and he gently clapped your shoulder a couple of times in comfort and you smiled slightly, zoning out again while the conversation continued. You watched the window from across the room now, the droplets turning blurry as your eyes puddled with tears once more. Once you noticed, you quickly blinked them away, looking down at your feet to avoid eye contact with anyone.

After a while, everyone seemed to disperse from the living room, and you trudged your feet up the stairs behind Five, moving up to join him in his bedroom. Taking a seat on his bed, listening to him as he thought out loud. The sound of his voice proving what you had said earlier to Klaus made you all the more upset and eventually, you fell into a fit of tears, sobbing greatly as you sat cross-legged on his bed. Five frowned, moving over to sit beside you, taking your hand in his gently. He let you cry, placing your hand on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. It had been something that you had always done for comfort. It allowed you to take control back over you breathing, and you did just that, taking steady breaths, letting out a few sobs and sniffles before he finally looked at you, opening his mouth to speak.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Just feeling down is all.”

“Do you want to go to Griddy’s?” He smiled when you gave him a nod, intertwining your fingers with his until you got to the door of the doughnut shop, unlinking his hand from yours as he opened the door for you. You waited for Five to catch up with you, walking to the counter. You were about to take your seat beside him when a pretty girl took it before you could, scooting her stool closer to him.

“Um, excuse me, miss, I—“

“So, do you come here often?” The girl batted her long eyelashes at your husband, resting her hand on her hand as she puckered up her lips slightly. Your face fell, watching as she tried so desperately to spark Five’s interest, but he continued as usual until she ordered a black coffee. His eyes flickered over to her and he cleared his throat, sipping his own before speaking.

“Uh, no. Not really. Oh, and good choice, by the way.” The two continued to talk in front of you and you sighed, moving towards the door and leaving, making your way back to the academy. When the bell tingled, Five turned, watching you through the window. He finished his coffee before hastily walking back to the academy. When he arrived, he shot straight up the stairs and into your bedroom, where he found you, snuggled up in your bed, hiding under the blanket. Your heart felt perfectly shattered, as if it was just fragments in your chest. But the complete heartache remained, tiring your whole body with the sensation.

“What the hell was that for?”

“What?”

“Leaving me there alone. I thought we were gonna have a good time, but apparently not. Y’know, it would’ve been nice to have a good time and get away from everything just for a few minutes, but I guess not.” He gesticulated while he spoke and you frowned, pulling the blanket off of yourself and pushing yourself up with your elbow, frowning at him.

“I would’ve liked it too. That’s what I was hoping for. You don’t understand how desperate I am to spend some time with you. Even two minutes I’d be happy with. I didn’t expect us to turn up at Griddy’s and have some girl deliberately sit where I was going to just so that she could talk to you.”

“So, what? You’re jealous, is that it?”

“I—“

“You have nothing to be jealous of.”

“I know that—“

“I hardly even spoke to her.”

“You spoke to her more than me.” Tears welled in your eyes and Five’s demeanor seemed to soften at the sight. “Like I said, I just want to spend some time with you.”

“We’re spending time together now.”

“I don’t mean like this. I don’t mean when we’re sat together while you’re focusing on equations and I sit and watch the weather change out of your window. I don’t mean when we’re focusing on the apocalypse. It’s all we do, Five. I know it’s important, of course I do. I just want to spend some time with the person that I married.” Your chest heaved up and down and you sighed, in floods of tears again. “It feels like you have no time for me anymore. Like we’re drifting and eventually… we’re gonna be strangers.” Five lunged towards you, pulling your chest against his as he wrapped his arms around you, sighing shakily. Weakly, you snaked your arms around his torso, gripping onto him for dear life. He stroked your hair gently and your breaths matched his whilst your heart rate returned to normal. Slowly, he pulled away, taking both of your cheeks into his hands and drilling his eyes into yours.

“Y/N, I married you for a reason. I love you, and I will only ever love you. I’m sorry I’ve been so tied up in the apocalypse recently, I just… I want to stop it. I don’t want to be responsible for the deaths of billions of people when I could’ve stopped it. The point is, I’m sorry. And I love you so much. More than anything. I suppose I have been working a little too hard, and it wouldn’t hurt to take a break every now and again.”

“Five, you don’t have to. I know how important this is to you, and I want to help, and—“

“Y/N, I want to. I want you to know that I love you and I always will love you.”

“I love you.” You desperately pressed your lips against his, pouring your emotions into the kiss. Your lips danced fiercely with each other, moving together in such wildness and yet at the same time, it was all so flawlessly innocent. He leaned his forehead against yours, releasing his lips from yours, trying to catch his breath. You were breathless for a second before you stood and took his hands, pulling him up beside you.

“C’mon, Five. Let’s go save the world.”

my masterlist

[alwaysmychoices]

Landry Olsen Finding Out About Ethan and f!MC (Charlie) - Headcanon

for a long time, I’ve been meaning to make a fic about Landry finding out about Ethan and MC, and after reading @utterlyinevitable​‘s amazing HC, I was encouraged and inspired to finally write my HC out. Her characterization was incredible - truly wanted to punch Landry. 

Also, for me, MC is Charlie. I kept writing Charlie by accident, so MC is just Charlie now. 

It had been 10 years since Landry Olsen moved to Boston – and 7 years since he left.

Landry Olsen finished his residency at Mass Kenmore successfully but quietly. He did well but never distinguished himself. He was, at best, an upper middle candidate – good but never as good as the greats who walked the hall beside him.

Never as good as Charlie.

Charlie ended her residency at the helm of Edenbrook with a permanent position on the bolstered diagnostics team. Within a month of her completed residency, she had dozens of research offers, job opportunities, and even a handful of speaking invitations. She was the face of medicine.

It wasn’t fair, of course.

She was just lucky. She caught all the right breaks.

She didn’t work for it like Landry did.

At 29, Landry took a job in Chicago, determined to make a name for himself.

He worked hard. He did research. He stayed late, missing big events and dates. He neglected everything but his work. He was his job.

He wasn’t always the best. Sometimes, a star protégé would step in and outshine him, and he grit his teeth through every second. Usually, he tried to win favor by staying later that night or taking on bigger and better cases. Occasionally, he dipped back into old habits of sabotage, but he promised himself it would be the last time.

He earned his place. He earned this career. Hell, he deserved more!

It wasn’t his fault that he had missed all the biggest breaks.

Landry didn’t like being back in Boston – too many bad memories of disappointment and disgust.

He wanted to limit his time in Boston as much as possible. He was here for a conference, and as soon as it was over, he would be on a plane back to Chicago.

But he couldn’t help himself.

He had to see Edenbrook.

It looked… the same.

Even with a new sign and a new name, it was the same place.

A place of disappointment – of regret.

As Landry bought a cup of coffee from a nearby bodega, he imagined running into Charlie. He wondered what she looked like. He wondered if she still hated him.

Landry tried his hardest to stay away from the rumors about Charlie.

When he worked at Mass Kenmore, they were inescapable. She was magic back then. She cured a senator, survived a deadly bioweapon, and saved the hospital while she was at it. She even earned Ethan Ramsey’s friendship in the process.

Landry knew the rumors about them. According to all the best informants, they were always together, curing unknown diseases and steering medicine’s future. Occasionally, Landry heard hints of affection on Dr. Ramsey’s side. Once, he heard that she had been seen carpooling to work in the early hours of the morning.

As much as Landry wanted to know everything, he gagged when he heard about their partnership.

Landry should have been Ethan’s partner, not her.

And their friendship? Disgusting. Unethical, even. He never paid much mind to the rumors of romance. He knew Dr. Ramsey would never break so many rules. Nonetheless, Landry hated hearing about it.

But did any of that matter now?

It had been 7 years.

With a twinge of satisfaction, Landry liked to think that Charlie’s magic had worn off. A magical intern wasn’t a magical attending.

Maybe she ran out of luck.

As Landry walked the familiar path from Edenbrook to the nearest train station, he let himself daydream about Charlie struggling like he did. It made him feel more accomplished and self-assured.

It was during these musings that Landry Olsen saw Dr. Ramsey, his idol, for the first time in nearly a decade.

Ethan Ramsey sat outside at a nearby coffee shop, a medical journal in one hand and espresso in the other. He was older now, probably close to 50. His hair had greyed, and he wore a pair of glasses on his nose.

Landry lost his breath.

Even after Landry left Edenbrook, Ethan had been Landry’s hero. Landry read all of his research, even if he hated occasionally seeing Charlie’s name next to his under the title.

And Landry wanted to talk to him.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to say.

All he really knew was that he needed to clear his name. He needed to prove to Dr. Ramsey that, despite his transgressions during his intern year, he was a successful, competent doctor. He wasn’t just a dumb kid who jeopardized a whole hospital for his vengeance.

He imagined approaching Dr. Ramsey with a respectful yet cordial greeting. Maybe Ethan would remember him. Maybe Ethan would invite him to sit so they could discuss his career. Perhaps Landry could convince Ethan to join his latest research venture.

Maybe, after all this time, Landry could still make a good impression.

Maybe, one day, he could be Dr. Ramsey’s right-hand man.

Landry jammed the crosswalk button frantically, hoping to get to Ethan Ramsey as soon as possible.

Then, he saw her.

Charlie.

She looked the same, just a little older.

And with her, she carried two children. The first, a girl, was old enough to walk alongside her mother. She looked exactly like Charlie, same hair and same nose. The little girl giggled the entire time, making the small boy in the stroller laugh with glee.

Charlie had a… family.

Landry hesitated at the crosswalk and stared as the small family crossed his path.

He was so busy being astonished that Charlie had children that he missed all the clues.

Well, that was until the little girl broke free of Charlie’s grip and ran across the sidewalk a screaming, “Daddy!”

She ran to Ethan.

Ethan left his chair and kneeled on the sidewalk just in time to catch his daughter as she flew into his arms. Ethan exclaimed something about how happy he was to see his little Lori, and he spun the little girl around to make her laugh.

That’s… his daughter, Landry felt frozen.

Charlie followed her daughter, chastising her for running away from her in such a busy place. She approached Ethan with ease. She stood next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then…

And then, she kissed him.

Landry watched from across the street.

Ethan accepted the tender kiss happily before greeting the baby in the stroller, who cooed his approval.

When Ethan put Lori down, he wrapped his free arm around Charlie’s waist and pulled her close.

They were…

They’re together, Landry realized.

Now, he could see the glitter of their wedding bands and the comfort they shared in each other’s arms. Ethan whispered something to make Charlie laugh.

They settled into the café chairs and kept a close eye on their children.

Ethan held Charlie’s hand across the table.

They were happy.

Landry felt a rush of shock and horror.

How could they be romantically involved?

Was that why Charlie did so well? Had Dr. Ramsey really just favored her because he hoped to secure her affection? Had Charlie just gotten ahead because she was willing to pursue her boss? How many ethical lines had they crossed?

Had they exchanged favors in exchange for Charlie’s burgeoning success?

Landry fumed.

He had to work his ass off, and all this time, Charlie got the easy route because a respected diagnostician wanted to father her children.

Landry hated them. He hated the entire system that let them exist. He hated that they got to win and be happy.

Everything clicked together in the worst of ways.

He wanted to confront them. He wanted to tell them precisely what they did wrong and what it had cost him.

He imagined how they would react. They wouldn’t understand. They would think he was crazy and vindictive. Walking away, he would seem like he was wrong when he was really the injured party. Later that night, while Landry was alone in a hotel room, the couple would probably talk about him at dinner, sharing complaints and theories about his behavior.

They would be on each other’s side, and Landry would be alone.

In fact, Ethan would always be on Charlie’s side…

Landry paused, watching as the crowd around him peacefully crossed the road. He didn’t join them.

Because Dr. Ramsey picked a side.

No matter what Landry did, Dr. Ramsey would never be his friend. He would never honor Landry with accolades or collaboration.

To Dr. Ramsey, Landry was just the asshole who betrayed his wife nearly a decade ago. At best, he was a forgotten memory. At worst, he was a representation of disappointment and pain.

Landry might look at Dr. Ramsey as a hero, but Ethan looked at Landry like he was a rat.

The streetlights changed, and the crosswalk closed to Landry. Across the street, the innocent family ordered two coffees and a hot chocolate for their young daughter, who was now in her mother’s lap and scribbling in a coloring book.

They had no idea Landry Olsen watched them, and they had no idea when he looked away and left.

And wasn’t that better?

If Landry Olsen was always going to be the rat, he might as well be a rat out of sight.

He couldn’t stomach watching Ethan’s eyes widen with recognition and then harden with hatred. He couldn’t fathom being his idol’s enemy.

It’s what he deserved.

Deep down, beyond all his whining and entitlement, he knew that they were right about him.

He was just a mediocre doctor bullying someone else for being better than him. But he hid it well. Strangers never suspected him, and he was so skilled that he even fooled himself.

But he still knew… In those quiet moments when he reflected on his mistakes, he knew.

Landry Olsen was a rat – and a lonely, hated one, at that.

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[procrastinatorproject]

Fic writer review, thank you to @thelaithlyworm  for the tag <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Ten? Oh no, it’s actualy 12 now!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

86,468

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Grand total of 1: Star Trek: Picard - although my latest offering might branch a bit into other Trek as well.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

“Passengers”

“And a Barrel of Gagh”

“CMO’s Log”

“Preparations”

“Game Night”

Which is actually kinda interesting. I wrote Passengers, Preparations, and Game Night while the fandom was still a lot more active (especially in the Aramis in Space corner), so that makes sense. The CMO’s log has had chapters added every few months, giving it probably the most exposure of any of my fics. Barrel of Gagh, though? I think I’m gonna attribute that to Thimblerig turning it into a truly, TRULY brilliant piece of podfic. Also the fact that it’s whump involving a character played by Santiago Cabrera. ‘tis A Thing..... :D

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! I love talking with people in the comments and just... thanking the people who found the time and energy to leave comments. But especially in the last few months I have gotten very bad at keeping up with the comments and now there’s about two dozen that I have neglected to reply to for a painfully long time 🙈

But I will get there! Because I love that kind of interaction!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

So far, none of them have had angsty endings. Angsty middles, yes, but not endings. I’m just a sucker for everyone being happy in the end. Or at least on the way to being better, and supported and cared for on that way.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t yet, but I’m definitely not opposed. One of the threads of my 200k unpublishable whump scenes takes place in a continuity that has existed in my daydreams for... I wanna say six years at the very least, probably longer. It’s mostly straight-up Star Trek, but with the twist that it involves the Wraith, the telepathic, hive-minded alien race from Stargate: Atlantis that suck the life force out of you with their hands? Or, well, at least a variation thereof.

I once typed up the world building for that particular setting and it took me three hours to try and make it all make sense. So it’s... involved. But not necessarily “crazy”. And I’m not sure I’m ever actually going to publish any of the stories I have set in it (not least because that would envolve finishing any of them and bringing them into a form that is interesting to read for anyone but me...)

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Hm, not yet. I do enjoy reading smut, but only under very specific circumstances. I think I may eventually try my hand at smut, but the inner prude is still very strong. Writing about Rios and Xyr making out (which, honestly, was really tame, all things considered) made me melt in a puddle of blushing embarrassment, so full-on smut is probably beyond me at the moment. One day!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Though litigating that in a fandom like ours would be... tricky. ST:Pic is way too small to steal stories outright. But similar or the same ideas pop up all the time. And it’s a complete coincidence. Reading the book that recently came out and that has a kinda similar setting to a lot of my stories (pre-season 1, early in Rios’s history as captain of Sirena, dealing with original characters, holo shenanigans, friendship with Raffi, etc.), I was struck by just how many elements, both scenes or story beats and little details, were similar to things that have cropped up in my writing. And it is entirely coincidental, because I am beyond certain that the author doesn’t read fanfic. Just... for legal reasons. Not to mention I wrote a bunch of the things I saw parallels to while the book was already in production, and some of them are only in my drafts.

So there is a ton of convergent evolution going on in this particular section of the fandom, and trying to litigate who came up with certain plot ideas or character beats when would be a sysiphean disaster. Some things are clear and whenever I use any of them I give credit where I can, but people will have very similar ideas. It just happens. So no, I haven’t had either a full-on story or “an idea” stolen, and I might change my tune if it ever does happen, but so far, I’m trying to practice equanimity, so I’ll be better at it should I ever need it.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Sadly no. My dad keeps complaining that all my fic is in English so he can’t read any of it, but honestly? I’m kinda glad for this very convenient excuse. Maybe if I ever feel like I want to practice my interpreting skills, I will give translating the stories into German a shot. We’ll see. Otherwise, if anyone feels inspired: Have at it! Just let me know, okay?

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not quite. I have a draft of off-the-cuff worldbuilding that I wrote on Discord with @curator-on-ao3 and that I would love to turn into an actual short fic (letters from a conference on holo-ethics), but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

I don’t really do shipping.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I WILL NEVER ACCEPT DEFEAT!!!! One day, I will write the next installment of Star Trek: La Sirena! I have so many ideas for that continuity and those characters. I’m not going to abandon them!

what are your writing strengths?

Hmmmmm. Probably detailed worldbuilding? Ask me something about, say, a technological or cultural aspect of Star Trek and chances are, I have thought about it in the past or will come up with three different sets of intricate lore within half an hour. (Things like... the architecture of San Francisco, or Will there still be taxi drivers? or the treaty between IKEA Intergalactic and the Borg Collective, or the Universal Translator, or Emergency Services or Why There Are Very Few Ambulances On Earth Anymore etceterah etceterah...)

I’m also good at slapping together off-the-cuff plot ideas (if, say, you need an explanation for how Seven and Agnes ended up stranded on a desert island, I could probably give you three different scenarios pretty quickly. Just don’t ask me to make them poignant or actually write them.

I’m also very, very good at beginnings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Everything that isn’t a beginning. Especially endings, or rather: finishing something, but also just... keeping momentum.

I think my dialogue is somewhat samey and not distinct enough between characters. (Also my witty banter is... let’s just say it doesn’t come to me naturally...)

And I also struggle with keeping things brief and to the point. I can write you 30k of whump covering a span of three hours, but fitting a whole story in the same space? Much more difficult!

I have also avoided writing full-on action so far, but where it has crept in it has always been a struggle and been workshopped a lot with the indefatigable beta.

Otherwise, I don’t know. My self-perception is always a little warped, so I’m not sure what other people would say my weaknesses are.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Oof. Well. I have used Spanish sentences in my fic and done the thing where they’re translated in the end note, but I’ve mostly done it sparingly. I’ve also done the ‘“What do you want?” he said in Spanish.’ It’s tricky. But I will likely keep doing it in some instances, even if it’s a bit annoying.

(It also really helps to have a native speaker of Spanish as a beta, even if it’s Spanish from a different region than you’re character.)

Speaking of regional: I’m also torn about the whole “phonetically writing out accents” issue. Some people love it, some people hate it, I’m really unsure because I’m not a native speaker of English, so I’m not even sure I’m consistent in my narrative voice’s regional quirks. So far, I’ve mostly gone with describing that an accent is happening, and only writing out when phrasing actually differs from standard English. Like Ian (Scottish) saying “dinnae” but not writing “I” as “ah” as you’d see on, say, Scottish twitter.

Though it can be a very useful tool if, for instance, you want to indicate a characters accent getting stronger as they get tired or upset. 🧐

Anyway, I don’t think there is one right or wrong answer here and everyones milage will vary.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? ST:PIC

Actually first? Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Pretty much simultaneously, though I did write more for LotR. On graph paper, mind, with my fountain pen turned upside down so I could write smaller. I still have folders worth of those stories that I urgently need to digitize before they fade and I lose them forever...

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’m going to quote @thelaithlyworm here: I Love All My Children Equally! I honestly couldn’t say. They are different and I love them for different reasons but I love them all.

Thank you for the tag! ��� I’ve kinda lost track of who all has done this already or has already been tagged, so feel free to ignore me! But I tink I’m tagging @curator-on-ao3, @aini-nufire, @29-pieces, @flowers-creativity, @highfunctioningflailgirl, @cristobalrios and @the-goofball. And anyone else whom I forgot or who feels inspired to do this!

[mercurysnitch]

1976 Guitar (200 follower celebration)

Summary: An Australian runaway walks into a London pub... and finds herself having a drink with the one and only Roger Taylor.

A/N: As promised, my little celebration piece. I actually started this after I hit 150 followers, but I put it aside because I wanted to work on other things, and then decided to keep it for my next follower milestone. Which ended up taking a lot longer than I was anticipating, but hey, we got here in the end. 

Just fyi for clarity, the reader here is Australian, but living in London after finishing journalism training. Yes, even in the 70s London was full of runaway Aussies. But it must have seemed a lot further away in the days before instant messaging and video chat and free phone calls over the internet.

Title is from a Skyhooks song, recorded well after the 70s, incidentally. The bits in italics are lyrics from the song. This isn’t a song fic, and I honestly can’t remember why this is set in 1976 (I think it just sort of popped into my head like that) but those particular lyrics seemed quite fitting.

Warnings: Drinking, light swearing

*********************************************************

...one night I met a girl at the Sebel bar

And she taught me how to play that 1976 guitar

London, 1976

You decided you liked English pubs soon after you moved to London. They were cosier than the airy places you were used to back home, and the clientele were a lot less rough. Most of the time.

Your favourite pub was your local, just around the corner from your poky little second-floor flat. Decent food, good drinks, and interesting people. The bands playing on Saturday nights were always worth a listen too. Tonight, though, was a weeknight, which meant you were there for a stiff drink and maybe a nice greasy pub meal.

You hardly looked at the bartender as you flopped onto a stool. He floated over almost instantly anyway. "What can I get yer?" "Whiskey please" you ordered, attempting to be polite but mostly sounding tired. The barman smiled. "Coming up." It was fairly empty in the pub, so he returned with your drink almost immediately. You smiled gratefully and wasted no time taking your first sip. But you'd barely swallowed it, still dealing with the afterburn, when you heard a huff of surprise from a neighbouring stool.

You turned in the direction of the noise to discover the source: a youngish bloke with shaggy, pale blonde hair and big blue eyes. He looked strangely familiar, but you couldn't think where you recognised him from. If you weren't so annoyed you would've been taken aback by how attractive he was. Instead you glared at him. "What's your problem, mate?" He flashed you an annoyingly pretty smile. "Nothing. Just don't see many girls drinking whiskey like that." "Like what?" you shot back. "Like they do it all the time. Suits you, though." He flashed the smile again, and you felt your anger ebbing away.

Seeing the smile again seemed to jolt your memory. "Fucking hell," you gasped, "you're Roger-" "Don't say it" Roger hissed, cutting off your exclamation. "You'll tell the whole pub and then I won't get a moment's peace all night." You immediately looked downcast. "Sorry." Roger smiled reassuringly. "It's alright."

You eyed Roger curiously. "So tell me, what's the drummer from Queen doing in a place like this?" He broke into a cheeky grin. "I could ask you the same question" he said flirtatiously. "I've had a very long day and I live around the corner" you told him. "What about you?" "We used to play here, in the early days" he explained. "I always liked the atmosphere, and the people are always… interesting."

Suddenly you noticed him eyeing you up with curiosity. "I like your accent but I don't recognise it. Where're you from?" he asked casually. "Australia" you told him cheerfully. You noticed his expression fall slightly. "Not from Sunbury, I hope" he joked. You grinned cheekily. "Melbourne, actually. But I don’t blame you for not liking Sunbury." Roger was shocked. "You know about that?" You nodded. "I was there. It was a great day, actually, for me at least." Suddenly you smiled. "Anyway, whoever thought booking Queen to play at Sunbury was a good idea clearly knew nothing about bloody Sunbury. Or Australians, frankly." Roger smiled grimly at the memory. "God that was a shit gig. Might be the worst reception we've ever had." "If it makes you feel any better I enjoyed your set" you told him softly. "Queen's just a bit too sophisticated for most Aussies, I think." "But not you?" he asked, smiling. "But not me" you agreed.

"So what brought you to London anyway?" Roger asked. "I got sick of Australia" you told him. "It's so… behind, culturally. Anyone who's a serious artist or writer or whatever buggers off to London or somewhere first chance they get. So when you're still there you feel so far away from everything, it really feels like you're at the arse-end of the world sometimes." Roger grinned. "Arse-end of the world. I like that" he mused. "But I don't think you've come to the other side of the world just because you thought Australia was boring." You stared at him crossly. "Oh yeah? Why d'you reckon I'm here then?" you asked, challenging him with a look. "I think you ran away from something" Roger declared softly. "As far away as it was possible to get, just about."

You stared at him in shock. Now you thought about it, he wasn't exactly wrong. Suddenly your expression darkened. "Well, I suppose I'm running away from my mother and her bloody expectations of how I should live my own bloody life" you grumbled. He quirked an eyebrow. "Expectations?" "She wants me to be like her" you explained. "Find a nice bloke with a ‘suitable’ job, get married, buy a house, pop out a few kids, be a bloody housewife for the rest of my days." 

"And you don't want that" Roger said quietly. He understood how it felt to choose a life different from the one your parents wanted for you. "No, I bloody well don't" you agreed. "I want to achieve things with my life, have a proper career." Your mother had told you several times that there was no point trying to advance in your job since you were just going to quit when you got married anyway. The recent feminist revolutions seemed to have entirely passed her by, but then Australian society in general did have a tendency to run a bit behind on things like that.

Roger's gravelly voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "And what might that career be?" You smiled. "I'm a music journalist. Well, I'm a researcher right now, but I'm trying to freelance a bit on the side." Roger nearly laughed. "Y'know, most music writers seem not to like us for some reason" he observed wryly. "But I get the impression you might be an exception." You grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” "Maybe I would" Roger quipped.

You both drank quietly for a while, Roger gazing at you curiously. "Y'know, you never did tell me what's driven you to drink on a Wednesday night" he commented, casually as could be. "You really want to know?" you asked incredulously. Roger nodded. "Wouldn't ask if I didn't, love." You sighed. "Well, I was supposed to have a date last night, but he stood me up, which was just a delightful way to spend an evening" you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then this morning my boss was even more of an arsehole than usual, and I found out my article that was supposed to be published next week got pulled from the issue, so god knows if it'll ever see the light of day now. And then when I got home the disappearing date had the nerve to ring with a pathetic excuse that I'm almost certain he made up, and apparently he was blind to the possibility I wouldn’t want to reschedule the date he missed until I spelled it out to him."

Roger winced in sympathy. "Christ, that is a shitty day." “Well, it seems to have improved since I got here” you observed, flashing a sly smile. Suddenly he grinned, not bothering to be subtle about eyeing you up again, almost appraisingly this time. “You know, I could make it even better, if you’re interested” he said smoothly. You cocked an eyebrow in interest. “Oh, really? And how exactly would you do that?” “Have dinner with you” he replied, not missing a beat.

You blinked, shocked. “You want to-to what, take me out to dinner? Why?” “You seem interesting” Roger said, shrugging. “Besides, I like having company when I’m out, being alone’s not as fun.” You had to agree with him there. “So is it a date, then?” you asked, still a little uncertain about the turn your evening was taking. Roger smiled cheekily. “If you want it to be” he said. He seemed nonchalant, but you thought you detected a flicker of uncertainty under the rock-star swagger. You grinned. “You know what, bugger it. Take me on a dinner date, Roger.”

******

There were some decisions in your life you would live to regret, but going on that first impulsive date with Roger wasn’t one of them. One date very quickly became many, and before you knew it Roger was a fixture in your life. Well, as much as a touring rock star could be, anyway. You found it oddly satisfying writing a postcard telling your mother you were going out with a shaggy-haired rock’n’roll drummer, knowing he was almost the complete opposite of the sort of person she wanted you to pair up with. You’d also finally managed to get an article published in the paper, but, predictably, your mother’s response to your postcard entirely neglected that achievement in favour of detailing every reason she thought you should leave Roger and return home immediately. None of them really held much weight, and the suggestion your actions would damage your reputation back home was in your view rather forcefully disproven by the enormous quantity of messages you received from both friends and relatives congratulating you on both the article and your choice of boyfriend.

You did eventually find the things your mother wanted for you with Roger, in a way. Technically you never actually got legally married, but you were deeply committed to each other. And you did end up with the big house and the family of your own, alongside a flourishing career in rock journalism. It wasn’t always easy, juggling everything and getting people to take you seriously as a journalist, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes, just sometimes, you were just a tiny bit grateful for that shitty day in 1976.

In '74 we got tight, in '75 we starred

Then we learned to play that 1976 guitar

**************************

A/N: I don’t think there’s too many Australianisms in here, but feel free to ask if you’re confused!

Taglist: (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed/think you should be on here but aren’t - it’s been so long some tags have changed since I added them) @wandering-at-midnight @royal-avengers @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @wineandwanderings @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224 @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr @mercurycrowley

[writing-fool]

mlqc | like it’s a bad thing pt. 1

I think these are ‘fighting’ scenarios, but I’m not 100% sure at this point. It’s like a ‘relationship on the cliffs’ thing. Pt. 1 for Victor and Shaw because I noticed these were getting a tad long. And they kind of carry the same theme, I guess. Wanted to include Lucien, but I ended up not being able to finish his for now...so if I make the next part, he’ll probably be on there.

I’m still working on a hp!au for Victor, but that may take a while since the inspiration doesn’t seem to be arriving anytime soon. It’s all been a bit tough, sorry. I say this all the time, but I apologise for the lack of fics; my writing pace’s been slow.

As always, enjoy the read!

Love,

R.

Warning(s): slight angst, profanity, mention of mature content.

Victor

You love Victor. You really do. But sometimes, just sometimes you wonder why you put up with this man and his bullshit. A great downside to being involved both romantically and professionally is that those types of relationships tend to bleed into one another. This could be in the form of an office quickie...or something a lot less fun. 

On the outside, Victor may seem put together, but you know him well enough by now that this month has been incredibly stressful for him. But so has it been for you. Safe to say, it’s been tense, even at home. Victor’s constant nagging about work performance and his snide comments at your so-called slacking off have pushed you to the breaking point, and you’re really not going to sit there and take it today.

“Do you even understand what I’m saying? LFG can’t move forward with your company if you continue working at this inefficient pace. You, as the head of a company, should know how to improve the quality and efficiency of your work.”

You sigh, not taking your eyes off of the laptop in front of you as Victor exasperatedly throws another one of your proposals on the coffee table. “I get it. Just give me some time.” You rub your temples, getting back to your own work.

“Do you? It doesn’t seem like you get the point here. You. Do. Not. Have. Time,” he harshly points out.

“You know you’re able to manipulate time, right?” You raise an eyebrow and look up at his unamused face. 

“I can’t favour you like this. Did you really think I was going to stop time to solve your inefficiency problem? You can’t rely on others all the time. A company that can’t pull itself up is use—” 

Something in you snaps at that very moment. “I get it. We’re useless, inefficient, and we’re so lucky LFG is even willing to support this failing company. I’m a useless boss, I can’t do anything right, I’m leeching off of my rich, CEO boyfriend to get ahead, I fucked my way to the top, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know,” you snarl, slamming your laptop shut with a resounding snap.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Victor’s glaring now, sharp, stormy eyes boring into yours.

“Oh, do I?” you mimic his words, narrowing your eyes, “Because you sure don’t seem to tell me otherwise. I can’t read minds, Victor, and all I hear from your mouth are insults telling me how incapable I am as a boss. So pray tell, how am I supposed to think I deserve my job when not only the entire business world, but also my own fucking boyfriend tells me I don’t?”

Victor’s clearly taking aback by your sudden outburst, but his need to get his point across in this argument seems to win over the instinct to lighten your mood at this very moment. “First of all, I don’t know why you care what others say—”

“Because I’m human! Maybe you don’t think of people calling you names anymore because they’re lost in the sea of people literally grovelling at your feet, but I’m not you,” you rub your temples again, voice lowering as the mental exhaustion kicks in.

“I don’t know if I can live like this anymore. Fuck Victor, you make me feel like a failure and you just don’t seem to care.” You push past his stunned form and head to the bedroom.

“Sleep in your office if all you care about is work.” You glance back at him for the last time before slamming the bedroom door shut.

Victor messed up. Royally. He didn’t mean to take his stress and anger out on you and he definitely didn’t mean to act like your boss at home. 

He’s been trying to get back to work for the past two hours while giving you some space, but the lingering guilt and worry in the back of his mind prevent him from actually doing anything productive. What if you really meant it? What if this is it? He can’t lose you just because he acted like an idiot. Victor’s always assumed you knew he cherished you more than anything in the world...but maybe he’s been neglecting you as a partner.

With a steel resolve to make it right, Victor leaves his home office and walks to your shared bedroom. The light from the hallway streams in as he opens the door, illuminating your sleeping figure. You’re curled in on yourself in a protective, almost guarded way, something you never do (you’re usually the kind of sleeper that has their limbs flopping everywhere on the bed). Victor feels a sharp pang in his heart at the notion of seeing you look this broken...because of him.

Gently, as to not wake you, he shuffles to the dresser, carefully taking off his shirt and folding it over a chair. After sufficiently (un)dressing himself, he slides under the sheets. 

Victor tentatively reaches a hand over to touch your arm, only to feel you turn away from his touch. Instead of pulling his hand back, Victor brings his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against his bare chest.

You’re awoken by the sudden movement, and in your sleepy state, you lean back into the warmth surrounding you.

Victor’s breath grazes your ear as he whispers. “I’m sorry.” Hm?

Your mind slowly registers that the warmth is, in fact, caused by Victor’s body heat, and more importantly, that you’re still very much upset with him. You struggle to get out of his grip, but that only seems to tighten the hold Victor has on you.

“Don’t. Stay with me,” he pleads, voice tinged with despair. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You still your actions, instead opting to turn around to face Victor.

“I don’t know if this is what I want,” you speak up after a long moment of silence, “I love you, but I don’t want to be stuck in a relationship where I’m not welcomed.”

“Do you feel like you’re stuck here?” Victor asks.

You avoid his gaze. “I’m not sure. It’s not all your fault, but I do wonder whether you stopped caring about me sometimes. You’ve been so harsh to me, lately.”

“I didn’t, I never stopped caring,” Victor takes your hand in his left one, interlacing your fingers, “But I understand that I’ve made you feel insecure and uncared for. I never wanted to make you feel worthless, but I’ve gone too far this time, haven’t I?”

A mirthless chuckle escapes your mouth. “That’s an understatement,” you quip.

You expect Victor to retort back with something mean, revert to his distant self (at least, to the distant person he’s become this month), but instead, he gently cups your cheek with his right hand, raising your face up to look at him again.

A soft kiss is placed on your forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be less harsh, and I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me. I’ll fix it all, your insecurities, your anxiousness. So give me one more chance, please. Let me fix it.” Victor’s beautiful grey eyes look into yours, sadness apparent on his face. You lie there for a long while, staring into his sombre eyes in silence.

“You’ll do anything?” you finally ask in curiosity. A resolute nod is your answer. “Even stop talking about work at home?” Victor nods again. You pause for a while, contemplating your next request. “...And take me to Souvenir and make me pudding every day?”

Victor snorts. “That’s the least I can do, dummy,” he chuckles lightly. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “I don’t mean you’re dumb. I just—”

Your soft giggle breaks his anxious ramble, and Victor feels like he’s just won the biggest prize at the lottery. “Just this is fine,” you whisper, “I thought it’d take longer for me to forgive you. But for some reason...I’m just happy to see your old self again.”

Victor sighs, pulling you closer. He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, inhaling deeply. “Dummy, don’t be so kind to me. I won’t know what to do,” he mumbles, relishing in the dark quiet of your bedroom. Truth is, he probably never knows what to do when it comes to you.

“You just have to love me, that’s all,” you pull your hand out of his, instead hooking your pinkies together, “No take-backsies.”

He rolls his eyes at your antics, a fond expression betraying the lack of annoyance behind the gesture. His pinky finger curls around yours ever so slightly, as if it’s desperate to hold onto yours. As if he’s desperate to hold onto you. 

“No take-backsies.”

Shaw

“Not again,” you growl under your breath.

Shaw’s always been popular with the ladies, the gents, and the non-binary friends. Which is fine, it’s fine. You’re not a jealous person. You’ve dealt with people asking him out, people asking him if he was a celebrity and making you take pictures of him and some other person on a date, older ladies in your family groping him whenever you bring him to a family function (which really, isn’t about jealousy. You got mad, rightfully so, because they were harassing him). You can’t even remember how many times one of his campus students has confessed to him. With you right next to him at the table! Is it that unbelievable that I’m his significant other?

But too far is too far.

You walked into the fancy nightclub tonight, expecting to get a drink or two in your system, let loose with Shaw for a couple of hours, drag his drunk ass home and cuddle in bed. Not this. 

The moment you walk in, you spot Shaw’s lavender coloured mop of hair sticking out over one of the booths. But he’s not alone, oh no. He’s surrounded by young men and women fawning over him like he’s some kind of celebrity or host club guest. And even though he looks a little bored, he’s not exactly bothered by the attention he’s getting. Because of course he isn’t. The moment his eyes land on you though, he looks you up and down appreciatively before shooting you a challenging smirk. He reaches over to a long-haired girl next to him, lazily fingering a lock of her hair. She looks up at him with a coy smile, but his amber eyes are fixed on yours, gauging your reaction. Oh, so he wants me to come over? Play the little jealous significant other? Hah! Not today, boy. I didn’t come here to play games. 

You raise an eyebrow, a visibly annoyed expression showing on your face. Instead of heading in his direction, you strut to the bar, shoes tapping rhythmically on the floor. I look hot, I feel hot, and I need a fucking drink. 

You order a bourbon on the rocks, gulping down a large sip of the beverage a soon as it gets to you. Bourbon is made to be savoured. You hear Victor’s voice resounding in your mind from the time he taught you how to judge alcohol for a production. So am I, but nobody’s been thinking of that, apparently. You turn around with a scowl, leaning against the bar. You feel horrible, and the fact that Shaw’s back to his childish antics isn’t making that any better. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. The flashing lights are blurry, but still noticeable through your closed eyelids. But what you don’t notice, is the man heading over to you from his side of the bar. 

Shaw notices. How could he not? The moment you walked in the room, all he could see was you. And he knows he’s being a little shit, trying to make you jealous like that, but he can’t help wanting to play with you. It’s just a game of push and pull, and maybe he just wanted to see how hard you’d pull for him.

He didn’t expect you to react like that, though.

So here he is, so uncharacteristically walking (or strutting, because he is still sort of himself, after all) away from the admiring crowd of people around him and towards his clearly pissed off lover. And the man who’s clearly trying to chat you up.

“—buy you a drink?” he overhears. Shaw halts and watches the blinding spotlights in the club illuminate the sight in front of him.

He sees you lean closer to the man, foreheads almost touching in a conspiring way, before you shrug and the two of you turn to the bar. The man flags down the bartender, holding two fingers up. He’s just ordering two drinks for himself. That’s it.

His gait picks up again as he sees the bartender slide your favourite drink across the counter. Before you can even take a sip of bourbon, the textured glass is ripped out of your hand. Shaw downs the amber liquid, the burning sensation washing away the bitter taste of jealousy. 

“Thanks for ordering me a drink, honey,” he emphasizes the pet name, grinning at you before turning his head to the man with a fierce glare. The man raises his hands in defense, shakes his head at you with a smile, and promptly heads back to the other side of the bar. Shaw turns to you, the grin slipping back on his face momentarily.

“Already cheating on me?” he asks, masking the slight hurt behind a teasing façade. Shaw plops down on the stool next to you, watching your face. You look slightly guilty at first, but then your expression morphs back into one of anger...and exhaustion. You aren’t actually cheating on me, are you?

“Funny thing for you to say,” you ground out. 

“...So you were jealous.”

“That’s what you take from that?” You stare at him incredulously, his smug grin slowly sliding off of his face. I’m making it worse. Why did I make it worse?

“Jesus, you’re a prick,” you sigh, “No drink can fix this evening. I’m just going to go home. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” You climb out of your seat, making a beeline for the exit. Shaw is quick to follow you outside, grabbing your wrist before you can flag down a cab.

“Let me go, Shaw.”

“Hey, hey, it was a joke. You know that, right?” His ears are ringing from the loud music back in the club, but the sudden quiet’s more deafening than any song booming from the speakers. It feels sad, and Shaw hates it.

“I said, let me go.” You’re refusing to look at him. Why is it turning out like this?

“It was a joke. If I let go, you’re going to leave. Don’t leave me,” the slight pleading of his voice makes you turn around to look at his face. He tentatively releases your wrist, and you make no move to leave...yet.

“I don’t want to play these games anymore.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows. “I don’t understand,” he says.

“Is it fun, to try and make me jealous? To remind me of the fact that I’m somehow not suited for you, that after this amount of time, I’m still not enough for you?” you poke a finger into his lithe chest, “Because guess what, you succeeded. I’m jealous. I admit it, you won.”

 “I didn’t—And you took that guy’s offer for a drink! You’re not better!” Shaw suddenly raises his voice, his stance akin to that of a wolf on guard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend! And you know why he bought me a drink? Because he said I looked like I needed a pick me up. And you didn’t even notice! Even worse, you’re the fucking reason I needed one in the first place!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were going to throw a hissy fit over me hanging out with some friends?” he spits out.

“Friends? They were hanging onto you, Shaw! One of those girls had her tits so close to you, she almost suffocated you with them. And you know it,” a humourless laugh escapes your lips, “You love the attention. And we both know I was never enough to provide that for you. So I quit.”

Shaw deflates. “What do you mean, you quit?” 

“I don’t want to be vying for your affection with the rest of them, I guess. It’s selfish of me, but somehow I thought I’d be special, or something,” you scoff, kicking a nearby rock of the pavement, “But I don’t think I am. Not to you. So I think we should stop all of this before one of us gets even more hurt. I think we should break up.”

Shaw halts, burying both of his hands in his hair. His breathing quickens as he processes your words. “No, no, absolutely not. We aren’t breaking up.” he looks at you with the same pleading eyes he used that time when he got sick and begged you to cuddle him instead of getting his medicine. Back then, everything seemed so...lovely.

“I don’t know what else to do, Shaw,” your voice breaks, and Shaw feels his heart shatter at the notion of you hurting this much. “I just don’t know why you do this, I—”

“Because I don’t deserve you.” 

“What?” You shake your head in confusion.

“I know it’s fucked up. Everyone around us knew that I wasn’t deserving of you. Just look at me,” he gestures at himself, “I’m a fucking gangster dating someone who deserves better. So I tried pushing you away, and then you pulled back, and you fought for me. And I just don’t know how to deal with that, ‘cause people don’t do that for me.”

You sigh. “You deserve to be fought for.”

“I don’t. I really fucking don’t. Because here I am, with the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m about to lose them. And it should be what I want because I keep pushing and pushing and pushing, but now the only thing I want is you. I fucked up.”

You lean against a nearby wall, silence hanging above you two before you break it. “I...don’t think this dynamic is healthy,” you start.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fucked up, but I promise I’ll—”

“And if we’re going to try this again, you’re going to have to fix your attitude,” you interrupt him.

“I—you’re serious?” a careful nod has Shaw’s expression turning from dumbfounded to ecstatic. His grin’s back, but now it seems more...genuine. More innocent. 

“Fuck. I can’t believe it,” he tilts his head up to the sky in glee, but soon looks back at you with resolution in his eyes, “I’m going to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”

You laugh. “Is that a challenge, pretty boy?”

“You bet your ass it is,” he teases, swiftly scooping you up into his arms, “I fucking love you, and I’ll do anything I can to prove it,” he mutters into the crook of your neck.

“Shaw...I love you too, but people are really staring, actually.” You cast worried glances over his shoulder.

“Don’t care.”

“...Of course you don’t.”    

Shaw’s scenario was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, to be fair. I think I made him pretty OOC, but I’m filling in a lot of the blanks in regards to his personality, and for some reason he has serious trauma and insecurities here, which is either kinda valid, or projecting. I don’t know if I’m satisfied with it...but it’s going I guess.

[marvelfansince08love]

Three’s company

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x female!Reader 

Word count: God knows like 4000

Warning: NSFW 18+ lots of smut, read at your own risk. Really bad smut writing. 

Prompt 14, 30:  “If this is your attempt at pushing me away, it won’t work” “Come on now dear, Let’s not torture her any longer” - Poly 

A/N: For Vee, I love you and I hope you enjoy! I’ve scrapped this about six times and I still have a love/hate relationship with it. Also feel honoured because this is my first smut fic ever never mind Poly, please be gentle with me lmao. 😂

Thank you @lesbian-deadpool for reading over this and giving me your seal of approval, you the best sister in law ever. What would my gal do without you @missmonsters2 lol 😂x

Tags: @imnotasuperhero @j-does-life @the-enamorando-deity​ 

I do not own these gifs!🖤

Prompts 14, 30 

Have you ever been in love?

 Have you ever been in love with two people at once? Or better yet, in love with two people who are also in an established relationship.

 Because I have.

 I continue to you scribble my thoughts onto the blank page of my diary needing to express my thoughts and feelings somewhere, like a dirty little secret.

 A loud knock at my bedroom door interrupts my train of thought as I quickly close my secrets away and scramble to hide it in my desk draw. I turn around to see blonde hair and blue eyes peeking through the gap of the door.

 "Hey Y/N just letting you know movie night is starting in half an hour and I don't want another excuse as to why you can't come. You've been locked up in your room almost the entire week. We're worried." Steve asks warmly, ever the mother hen of the group.

 "I'm fine Steve I've just been busy with mission reports and making sure the new shield recruits are settling in. You know how daunting it can be, especially when Sam, Clint and Bucky think it's funny to mess with them on their first week. I promise I'll come down" I reassure him, and he almost believes me.

 "Okay I'll bite but just know I'm here if you wanna talk about it. I haven't mentioned it to them that I saw you sneaking out of their room last week" he says sympathetically.

 That's when this whole thing started. Once I became a regular member of the Avengers initiative, it meant spending a lot of time with the team. Nat and Wanda had welcomed me with open arms being the only two regular females of the group. It started off with small subtle brushes of their fingers against my hand when they walked pass or passing things to each other in the kitchen, their fingertips just lingering a little longer. Of course, every time this would happen I would be a blundering mess but they seemed unfazed by the waves of electricity between us every time, until those subtle hints turned a little more bolder.

 Three weeks ago

 Walking through the private area of the compound, I rub my tried eyes and roll my shoulders trying to ease the tension in my muscles. I shuffle towards the living room area hoping to catch up on some reading needing some peace. The open windows and the dark grey Italia corner sofa that faces it gives a lovely view of the trees and forest life that surrounds the hidden compound. In my dazed, tired state I failed to notice the fiery red head sitting lazily on the sofa a Russian novel in hand with a devilish smirk.

 "Hey Y/N how was training the newbies?"

 I gasp lightly and quickly turn around to face her, my hand hovering over my chest as I clutch my favourite book in the other.

 "Jeez Nat, you could warn a woman!"

She laughs quietly.

 "You're an avenger Myshka, your eyes should always be open to any possible thing" the words slow and clear, her voice deep laced with flirtation.

 I gulp slightly, blushing at the Russian term that I’m always referred to as but never know what it means. I drop my gaze no longer able to look into those green eyes that hold such heat.

 "Yeah well I've just spent the last five hours training dumbass's who can't tell the difference between a Fixation Bowie and a SoG Seal Knife, so give me a break" I grumbled, feeling slightly irritated suddenly.

 Maybe because she keeps flirting with you and she has a girlfriend.

 Nat frowns lightly before sitting up her legs tucked underneath her making available space on the sofa next to her, she pats the space indicating for me to sit with her. I pause for a minute debating whether that would be safe for me to do so, I scan her face and land my eyes onto her perfect full lips stained with red lipstick.

 Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I could always read in my room.

 But she looks so good sitting there and she smells divine.

 The latter thought wins as I tentatively make my way over to her and take a seat, leaving a good gap between us. Nat smiles softly before turning back to her book, making me relax a little.

 After a few minutes of us both reading in silence, I feel Nat shift slightly trying to get comfortable. Unfolding her legs from under her she slowly stretches them out over my lap and sighs content with her new position. I tense and look over to her waiting for her to say something, but her head is buried back into her book.

 It's okay, you guys are friends. This is what friends do.

 Nat shuffles around again before huffing, clearly not comfortable. I can feel her gaze on me from the corner of my eye.

 "Myshka, can I lean against you? The corner of this sofa is killing my back and you seem far too comfy" she whines lightly, pouting those cherry red lips. My eyes instantly fall to them again before quickly looking back to her eyes, a glint of knowing lingers slightly in those pretty greens.

 She caught you.

 "Oh..um yeah sure Natasha" she moves like lightening and curls up into my side, her head leaning against my shoulder, legs draped over me. My eyes widen in fear at the sudden closeness between us and the creaking sound of the floorboards by the doorway announcing another presence.

 "Well don't my two favourite girls look comfortable hmm? Mind if I join?" I continue to tense up, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them trying to gauge their reaction, but Nat seems indifferent as she continues to stay close to me still emerged in her book. Wanda makes her way around the room, I'm shocked to see that instead of sitting next to Natasha she stands closely behind us, her hands rest on either side of my shoulders, her thumbs move back and forth along my exposed shoulders as she leans in and whispers "you seem tense fényem (my light), you need to relax. Is Steve giving you a hard time with the new recruits? I'll have a word" her breath softly brushing against my sensitive skin making me shiver.

 I shake my head unable to find the words to speak. Wanda hums quietly before releasing her hold on me and moving towards Natasha before letting her lips meet hers in a heated kiss. I try to avert my eyes but it's too late, Nat looks straight at me and winks subtly before going back to her book as Wanda walks away asking if we would like a drink. I shake my head in decline before making up an excuse and sprinting out of there.

 Whatever game their playing, I don't want any part of it...

 Or maybe I do.

 End of flashback

 A week later the flirting and teasing had gotten more bolder as the days passed. I found myself being left alone with one of them or both way too often for it to be a convenience. At the end of that week, it was team bonding night in the games room, drinks were poured and before I had time to blink, I could feel soft warm skin against my lips while two pairs of red lips and hands trail along my naked back and shoulders, limbs tangled up in silk sheets.

 I woke up in a haze just as the sun met the earth in the distant horizon and vanished out of their room. Leaving an empty gap between them, making my heart shatter. The knocking on my door and the empty threats to come into my room if I didn't speak to them became less and less as the week went on, as if giving up on any attempts to see me.

 I'm shaken out of my thoughts by two large gentle hands cupping my shoulders; Steve stares at me with concern.

 "Come on let's just go down and get the food ready for the movie, okay? You can sit with me if you like, you don't have to talk to them" I nod my head in agreement to his proposition.

 "Is there any specific snacks you would like?"

 I smirk at that slightly before replying:

 "Do we have the big bag of Doritos, Dorito?" Steve rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance.

 "Can you and Tony stop it with the Dorito thing? it was one commercial and the money went to a good cause" he moans grumpily before leaving the room and heading back towards the kitchen for the movie night snacks.

 I chuckle softly before gathering my thoughts.

 Maybe I could make another excuse up for not going.

 Knowing I don’t stand a chance against a stubborn Super Soldier I make my way out off my safe space and into the unknown.

  Upon arriving in the dimly lit room I scan for a vacant double seat to settle into for the evening, my eyes fall upon the very two people who have been taken over my thoughts and the pages in my diary for last two months; Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff.

 Wanda sits comfortably on Natasha's lap her head tilted upward as Nat whispers softly to her while brushing her thumb over Wanda's bare calf making her giggle quietly.

 My thoughts overtake me as I think about her thumb brushing against my bare thigh while Wanda whispers sweet nothings into my ear, just like that night...

 As if sensing my presence, they both turn and face me, a soft smile playing on both of their lips.

 "Hey kotenok, where have you been all week? We've missed you" Nat speaks quietly laced with worry. Wanda's furrowed brow also indicating her agreement.

 I blush slightly and clear my dry throat suddenly aware of my daydreaming.

 "Sorry...I.. um I had a few mission reports that needed finishing and didn't realise the time. I could do without Steve chewing my ass about neglecting my responsibilities outside of missions" I say impersonating my best Steve Rogers voice, which causing Nat to smirk slightly; amusement in her eyes while Wanda giggles her eyes looking over my shoulder.

 "You know Y/N if you actually did do the reports on time, I wouldn't have to keep lecturing you" a deep authority voice says behind me while dangling a bag of Doritos in front of my face. I roll my eyes in good nature before grabbing the offered snack and moving to sit in the empty loveseat by the two women.

 "You know there is space on this love machi- I mean love-seat Y/N, all you gotta do is ask" Sam teases a few rows down and winking cheekily, a pillow hits him around the back of the head by Bucky who's sat beside him.

 "Please she's way out of your league, fake bird" they both continue to bicker back and forth as I settle onto my own love-seat, wrapping the blanket around me and sighing at the warm feeling surrounding me as I sink into it further.

 "Sam's right though Y/N, you don't have to sit by yourself. Come sit with me and Nat there's plenty of room here" Wanda whispers leaning over towards me so no one else can hear, her eyes filled with attentiveness. I gulp and avert my eyes away from her emerald gaze as I pull slightly at the blanket as if trying to form a protective barrier around myself, away from her gaze and the heat behind them.

 "Oh um I'm okay I'll stay here. Thank you though" I stutter over my words while trying to build up enough courage to look into her eyes, to show her I'm not affected by the idea of being so close to them both.

 "Oh okay.. well if you do get a bit lonely over here, just know the offer is there Myshka" her eyes filled with slight disappointment but doesn't push the offer further and settles back into Natasha. I feel Nat's heated gaze upon me as I try and stay focused on the starting credits of Clint's choice of film.

 Halfway through the movie, I can feel my eyelids growing heavy and my vision blurring. Unable to fight the dreamworld any longer I slowly let myself fall into a deep slumber.

 "She's so cute when she sleeps, so peaceful"

 "Can you imagine how good she would be for us Wanda, how amazing all three of us could be?"

 "Nat! This isn't the time; you know the last time we did that with her she pushed us away. Why won't she just talk to us? If she had just stuck around long enou-"

 The voices in the room suddenly stop as I feel myself awakening from my deep slumber, I tense slightly suddenly aware that I'm not alone in the room and not in the comfort of the cinema loveseat but in a soft bed that smells just like...

 "Hey sleepyhead, look who's finally decided to join the land of the living" Nat murmurs while brushing a stray piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear, I shiver slightly at her touch before scurrying into an upright position, aware that I'm currently not in my own bedroom but in theirs.

 "How long was I sleeping for?"

 "Only about two hours, we thought it would be best to bring you in here since we need to talk"

I gulp slightly at that.

 "Um.. to talk? Could we do this another time? I'm pretty beat from all that writing and working with the recruits, I just want my bed" I try to reason with them but they both fix me with a "don't even try it" look before sitting on either side of me. Wanda grabs hold of my hand and turns my palm upward, she traces her finger around my palm and slowly lifts her eyes to look at me.

 "Please Y/N, talk to us. We've been trying to see you all week, but you seem to be avoiding us and Nat doesn't take to well to being ignored" she smirks mischievously at mentioning her girlfriend, who seems to be remaining quiet throughout the exchange.

 I look over towards Nat only now taking in how quiet she's been throughout this whole exchange even in the cinema room she spoke less to me than ever before. Her eyes drop down, looking at the silk sheet as her hand brushes softly against along it, her head tilted slightly as if reminiscing.

 "We may have gone about it the wrong way myshka, but we care about you.. a lot actually and more than just friends. We can't stop thinking about you but avoiding us after leaving like that... if this is your attempt at pushing us away, it won't work. We...I felt it that night, the way you clung to me as I brought you close to the edge, the softness in your eyes when Wanda held you close afterwards... tell me you don't feel the same way"

  I sit gaping at her, lost for words. I feel Wanda's hand squeeze mine gently, comforting me and encouraging me to respond. She leans forward and brushing my hair behind me ear before cupping my face with her hand, her thumb brushing away at the absent small tear on my cheek.

 "Shhh lyubov moya, we know, or did you forget that I can read minds" she teases gently trying to ease the tension. She brings her lips to the side of my head and lets them brush gently against my temple before trailing them down to my cheek, leaving small trails of soft kisses. Her lips reach near my mouth before pulling away slightly:

 "If you don't want this Y/N we completely understand, just say the words and we'll leave you alone and let you move on-" before she could finish, I lean forward and capture her lips with mine.

 "I want this, I've wanted this for a while" before continuing to peck her lips repeatedly. I see Nat from the corner of my eye stand quietly before moving to sit in the armchair opposite the bed watching intently as Wanda pushes me gently so I'm lying flat on my back.

 She continues to straddle my waist and slowly unbuttoned my shirt before pulling it apart exposing my bare chest, the cool air hitting my breast making them harden instantly. Wanda hums in delight at the sight, her eyes darkening with a glint of red spiralling underneath her natural colour. She leans her head down towards my neck letting her nose brush lightly down the valley on my breasts barely touching my skin, her eyes lock with mine before looking over her shoulder at Nat who is now undressed from the waist down with the smallest pair of white panties on that barely cover her assets; a dark wet spot appearing indicating to her arousal, as she keeps her legs spread for us to see her hand trails slowly south towards her heat.

 "Mmm someone seems to be enjoying our performance, little one. Shall we give her more?" Her hands grip my shorts before pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor before leaving wet kisses from my ankle to inner thigh, tongue swirling and nibbling softly right near my core. I shiver and arch my back basking in the overwhelming feeling of her. She continues to tease me, brushing her nose against my panties before pulling away. I hear the floorboards creak quietly making Nat's movements known, I watch her as she stalks over towards us like a predator after its prey. She squats down so she's eye level with me her fingers grip my chin, making me turn my head to the side: facing her.

 "Such a pretty little thing, it would be a shame to put those luscious lips to waste, don't you agree Wanda?" She mocks, her question for the woman between my legs but her eyes stay locked with mine, darker with a glint of mischief.

 She moves forward and presses her lips to mine, trailing her tongue along my bottom lip making me gasp. Her tongue battles with my own before I take a hold of her bottom lip between my teeth and tug at it making her moan deep. I shiver slightly and turn my eyes downward towards Wanda who now has my panties in between her teeth as she drags them down slowly almost agonisingly slow her eyes locking with mine. Nat's attention now on my neck sucking gently.

 "Oh god"

 As soon as she's disposed of my panties her mouth is on me instantly, lapping her tongue over and over again, swirling around my folds before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking hard, making me moan out load.

 "She's so wet for us Nat, god I almost forgot how good she tasted"

 Nat chuckles softly before removing her panties giving me a great view of her pussy. I lick my lips in anticipation, excited at the thought of having Nat above me with my tongue inside of her. She smirks knowingly before slowly removing her tank top, showing her full breasts and climbing expertly above me so she's facing Wanda her pussy directly in view, dripping wet. I tilt my chin up trying to take a taste, but she hovers higher up away from me making me whine. I'm stopped from reaching any further by Wanda's hand grasping my breast her fingers twisting my nipple slightly as her tongue enters me, making me cry out.

 My cries are quickly stop by Nat, who lowers herself enough to let me taste her. I moan at how wet she is...how wet she is for us. The room is filled with low moans and desperate cries of passion as I continue to swirl my tongue around her entrance, Wanda brings her thumb up to my clit and rubs hard circles around the sensitive area making me pull away from Nat slightly, hips bucking wanting more of her.

 "Please Wanda, I need you inside me" I say desperately. She chuckles quietly before leaving my heated area and making her way up to my chest taking a nipple into her mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

 “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer” Nat teases from above me her voice breathless.

 "I got something much more pleasurable" she smiles wickedly, I watch in astonishment as her eyes turn a blood red but before I could question, I feel a strong wave of pleasure hit my core, Nat and I moaning out in unison.

 "Y/N if you don't put that fucking tongue back where it belongs, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week" Nat grumbles through her moans caused by Wanda's magic. I quickly tilt my chin up and plunge my tongue deep into her entrance. My hand desperately reaching for Wanda's pulling her closer. The waves of sensation hitting one after the other, faint sparks of red surrounds us. I feel Nat tense above me, bringing my hand up I gently rub at her clit, bringing her close to orgasm. She cries out before relaxing above me; I lap her up, taking every last drop of her orgasm.

 "Wanda you still have too many clothes on" I whine trying to blindly remove her clothes. I feel Nat move from above me and towards Wanda while she continues to tease up and down my body.

 "Y/N is right malen'kaya ved'ma (little witch), you are wearing far too many clothes" she says before gliding Wanda's long skirt and panties over her ass and dropping them in a heap on the floor, while she continues to kneel between my legs. I feel Wanda's hot breath hit my core as she gasps at the cool air hitting her warm skin. Her eyes glow a brighter red as Nat traces her finger up and down her folds before finding her entrance and quickening her pace, she leans her body over Wanda, so her lips are close to her ear as they both stare at me.

 "Hasn't she been good for us Wanda? I think she deserves an award" Nat whispers voice laced with lust slightly breathless.

 That familiar wave of electricity hits through my body to my core making me gasp as Wanda projects her pleasure to me. Being able to be in sync with her body and its reactions to pleasure, mixed with my own need for release, throws me over the edge as I feel the knot in my core relax making me slump against the pillow, Wanda not far behind. She collapses gently on top of me, her head resting against my chest listening to my rapid heartbeat start to slow. Nat moves around the side of the bed grabbing a throw over from the back of the armchair and covering us all up before curling into my side, kissing the top of Wanda's head and my cheek.

 "Does this mean you'll consider being with us Y/N, not just the sex but everything else that comes with it" Nat asks almost tentatively, scared of what I might say.

 "You guys had me the moment I laid eyes on you"