#Maybe Curt’s best friend is whoever he can talk to

[kairithemang0]

I sometimes wonder if Curt and Owen just wanted a normal relationship. I mean, their relationship is anything but normal. They’re both spies, that’s the obvious one. Either one of them could die on any random mission and the other would need to more on and accept it. I do think they would have wanted something that was more ordinary, where they didn’t need to worry all the time. About them dying, but also getting caught. They can’t just be together, it needs to be secret and kept to themselves. Clearly Curt is sick of his mom asking when he’s getting a girlfriend, he can’t tell her that he has someone because of fear of everything that comes after that.

And now I’m just thinking about all the stuff they’d do if they weren’t held back from doing it. Moving in together and not being questioned about it, seeing each other whenever they wanted to, doing all that sappy couple shit. Of course, their locations don’t help with this either. I don’t think either of them would be willing to move to either of their countries, even if they were free too.

Jesus, the world is against these poor silly guys, isn’t it? :(

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-3

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None except our nervous WSO, Fluff

Word Count: 830

Author's Note: Here's the next part! This one is a little longer than the others but its one of the most important moments for our little couple! Also, I hid another hint of how reader feels about Bob in here and her nickname/callsign! Again I love talking with you guys so please reblog/comment/ask about this story!

Maybe taking his two best friends to meet his crush was a bad idea. Bob was already sweating bullets about finally asking her out and maybe bringing two people known to embarrass Bob was not the way to do this. It was too late anyway. Natasha was driving, Bob was in the passenger seat, and Bradley was in the back. Honestly, Bob felt like he was going to throw up. The butterflies in his stomach had become aggravated. Would he be successful this time? Or would he come home with another bouquet of blush tea roses and what she calls dwarf sunflowers? He wasn’t sure.

Natasha noticed the grey storm cloud that was hovering over Bob. She knew that whoever this florist was, she was making her backseater question his every decision. “Bob, I’m sure you’ll get her number this time. Okay?”

This made him turn his head to face his partner. “Are you sure? For the past two weeks, I’ve tried to conjure up the words and instead, I just word vomit in front of her.”

“Is it that bad Bobby boy?” Bradley asked while leaning on the center console. He didn’t think anything could rattle the WSO except Jake’s jabs at him during a drunken round of pool. “Is this florist that daunting? Is she scary or somethin’?”

The question made Bob think about her. She wasn’t at all daunting. She was alluring and beautiful in ways that Bob couldn’t explain. It made Bob feel like a complete fool. How could he go for a girl who is so beautiful and kind like her? Either way, he knew that if he got her number and asked her out on a date, he would feel more successful than what happened with the uranium mission.  A curt stop shook him out of his thoughts. Natasha had parked in the of the shop. The sign hung in the window. It said “Apotheca Blooms” with botanical and celestial motifs surrounding it. “Is this the place?” asked Bradley while stepping out of Nat’s car. He was surprised that the “supposed” daunting florist had a shop that looked warm and cozy. He was expecting something entirely else. “Yep. Let’s hope today is the day.” Bob said with a somewhat hopeless sigh. He was going back to the thought that this was a bad idea. Would his friends be great wingmen/wingwomen? Or would they make the situation worse? Well, it was too late to figure that out because Nat and Bradley were already through the door. Bob quickly followed after the chaotic duo hoping that everything would go smoothly.

Walking in, the three of them started looking around. Natasha found a whole section of bath salts and bath bombs that were already calling her name. Bradley was taking everything in from the flowers to the table of crystals. Bob was looking for the reason he came. 

“Are you finding everything okay?” said a voice coming from behind the table full of bouquets.

“Ahhh!” Bradley yelped while searching for the voice. The florist came around the table to greet everyone. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said while looking at the trio. She was surprised to see two new faces alongside Bob. 

Bradley at that moment decided to get a look at the woman that was haunting Bob. What he saw was a woman that he didn’t think Bob would for based on appearances but he knew that appearances can be deceiving. “More surprised than scared. I didn’t see you hiding in all that flora and fauna.” Bradley answered back while chuckling.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I surprised a customer. I’ve been told a have quiet footfalls.”She said while showing her captivating smile. “Either way, how can I help you folks?”

“Well I’m here for some bath salts which I already found and this guy is just here for the ride,” Nat replied while pointing her thumb over to Bradley. The florist nodded when she looked over to Bob.

“Hi, Bobby. How are you?”

“I’m-m great! How are you? Did you ever get that new tea blend figured out?”

“I did! You should definitely try it, I think you’ll like it.” She immediately answered the WSO’s question with delight.

This is when Nat and Bradley realized something that Bob didn’t. The florist already liked him and he was missing all the signs. Nat decided to elbow Bob in the side to get him to stop avoiding the main reason they were there. Bob recognized this so he decided now or never. “Umm, actually I came here for something else.”

“Oh? What is it Bobby?” she asked while tilting her head.

Taking a deep breath, Bob thought out his next words carefully. He knew he couldn’t keep buying more flowers for zero reason. He had to make you see that he could treat you right and more.

“Well, I was wondering if I could take you out for a date.” 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991 @havlindzk @tgmreader @charactersimp08 @just-in-case-iloveyou @theamuz

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[breanutbutter]

Left it all behind *Sam x OC*

*hey all! This is my first published fic so kindness is super appreciated that being said if you have any constructive suggestions those are more than welcomed! I’m hoping to make this a chaptered series so let me know how you like it! Please enjoy!*

Sam x OC

No triggers

2925 words

Summary: Sam and Liza are friends from college, Liza invites Sam to a graduation party and he stands her up. They lose connection and haven’t seen each other in 4 years. Liza doesn’t know why san fell off the face of the earth h but she’s happy to reconnect.

Chapter 1:

*Flashback to 2005*

Liza’s pov

2005 was my year, I was finally finishing my bachelors degree in History after many hours of cramming for exams and forgetting to eat. it was finally all worth it. I poured my blood sweat and soul into this degree. I'm pretty damn proud of myself. I only have a few more months left to finish studying and I'll be free.

Student life has been exhausting. Whoever told me it would be the best years of my life are absolutely full of it.

As I'm in the library staring at the few words I scribbled out in my notebook for the essay I'm supposed to be writing, I see a familiar flash of messy chestnut hair rush past me. I set my pen down and rotate my body to get a better view of the guy with the hair of course it’s Sam. Sam and I weren't very close to say the least we didn’t know each other very well at all we had a few mutual friends at school that caused us to cross paths pretty often. We met in the fall 4 years ago. My friends knew Sam's friends. He's been at most events I attend so he's comforted me in a weird i-don’t-know-you way. I've always been good at reading people, from strangers to friends I had a bad feeling about. Sam tries to act polished and put together but I can tell there's something in his life causing him to hide his true self. He’s always a storm of chaos flying through the halls in a rush darting from side to side. He’s always in a wrinkled collared shirt strung over his body, never tucked in his pants neatly like our peers. I just know there's something in him he’s ashamed of. “Hey Sam!” I shout down the library aisle at the lanky boy that's scurrying off somewhere probably late for something important. He turned his body to face me stopping dead in his tracks, there was a smear of sweat over his forehead causing him to swipe his hand over it wiping it away. He looked like a mess of lost time and stress, his face twisted up in a look of confusion as to why i’m calling him over.

“Are you going to Ethan's graduation party in two weeks? ” I asked him to cross my legs over each other resting my cheek in the palm of my hand. He cocked an eyebrow up at me “i don’t think i was invited” he shrugged about to turn away seemingly to dart off for whatever reason. “That's okay you can be my plus one. See you then Sam "I smile as I wave him off. He offers me a curt nod and shy goofy grin. Ethan is our mutual friend, he's friends with Sam’s girlfriend Jessica. That's why I thought it was odd he wasn't invited or maybe he just didn't want to make small talk with me there. I finish my last couple of sentences before I pack it up and stuff my book in my backpack, the interaction still lingering on my brain.

*2 weeks after the initial interaction*

My brain shocks me back to reality as I remember the conversation I had with Sam two weeks prior. Twas the night of Ethan's big graduation party. Ethan explained that he likes to throw his party before graduation so we could finish studying and give us a bit of relief before the big exam comes up which is much appreciated. After letting my mind wander back to Sam for a short moment I realize it's already 5pm and the party starts at 7pm. After lots of deliberation I decide to hop in the shower to scrub the grime of the day off my body. I run myself a steamy shower and glide in letting the warmth engulf my cold body. I dip my head under the stream making sure my hair gets evenly coated with the hot water before I begin my normal shower routine. After my relaxing shower I wrap my favorite pink fluffy towel around my body tucking in the loose end under my armpit making my way back to my room. I let my damp towel fall to the floor as I picked out my outfit. I normally go for the safest option: a collared shirt and a modest pair of taupe pants but tonight I decided to go out with a bang. I flip through my abundance of modest attire and reach for my black strappy dress. It fits my body in all the right places. It accentuates my slim waist and allows enough cleavage to give a taste of what’s underneath the dress. I smile to myself and slip it on after my underwear and bra. I finish up my hair and makeup with just enough time to drive over to Ethan’s house. I greet my best friend who grew up in a similar family situation as me: wealthy and unable to be reckless. We grew up with each other and were as close as two peas in a pod. She’s the one I can rant to about my parents considering she understands how old wealthy parents are she gives great advice. Olivia was just finishing up talking to Ethan when she greeted me “hey girl right on time as always” she slapped me on the shoulder pointing at the overhead clock showing I was in fact not on time and I was almost 30 minutes late. I laugh and shove her back “hey it takes time to look this good!” I shout in her direction. After I shrug off my coat and shoes she pulls me into Ethan’s lush kitchen pausing to grab two shot glasses.

“We’re letting loose tonight” she says as she reaches for the vodka I audibly gag “fuck dude vodka tastes like rubbing alcohol” I hiss as she chuckles and pours out shots “don’t be a puss” she says. I bring the cold bitter liquid and suck it back feeling the burning sensation hit the back of my throat “I hate you” I say slamming down my glass causing an echo to ring through Ethan’s very large house.

After a couple more shots we end up mingling in the living room. I'm constantly checking my watch waiting for Sam’s arrival but he doesn’t show. After two hours goes by I look at the door and let a disappointed sigh pass through my lips. I don’t know why I care so much. I don't even know the guy yet I’m here anxiously waiting for his arrival. Another hour goes by so do a few more shots and by this time I’m living my best life and dancing to I wanna dance with somebody with Olivia and a few other drunk girls. I pause halfway through the song to glance at the door. Nothing. I nervously look around and pull my phone out of my purse, shooting a quick text his way ‘hey Sam! you coming tonight?’ I quickly send it and push my phone back to its confines of my purse. I easily forget about the whole Sam situation and eventually I’m wasted and it’s time to head home. Sam never texted me back; he stood me up. I shoved the thought out of my head as I stumbled through my door. He wasn’t even my friend, he probably had other plans.

I stripped out of my clothes and dove into my bed happy to head to bed after an exciting and excruciating night.

Present day 5 years later (2009)

I open my eyes as the sound of my alarm clock blares through the room. I squint as I roll over to check the time “shit” I mutter it’s already 8:15am I’m going to be late for work. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and jump up out of the warmth enclosing me. I leap into my closet and grab a white button up shirt with a small yellow daisy on the breast pocket, a black pencil skirt and my favorite black blazer. I quickly throw my outfit on my body and run to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror as I am cleaning my teeth, a mixture of toothpaste and saliva dripping down my chin. I'm unable to believe I’m late for work. little miss perfect is never late. I shake my head and spit the toothpaste into the sink. I’ve only been late once in my life: senior year of college that following Monday after Ethan’s graduation party. I was so stuck in my head as to why Sam never showed up. Rejection was my biggest enemy and I over thought every little thing even back then. I barely knew the guy yet I was so disappointed he turned me down for some reason. I shook the past out of my head and decided to focus on the now: getting to work as soon as possible. After slipping in some orthopedic flats I grabbed my coffee mug, purse and keys and raced out the door. I ended up late to work and was stuck in rush hour for nearly an hour.

I rushed into the museum huffing and puffing, setting my purse and coffee cup down at my desk. It wasn’t like I would get in trouble for my late arrival after all I was the head conservator . It was more of an internal issue I’ve dealt with for as long as I could remember.

“Hey Elizabeth what’s got you so out of breath?” My coworker Brent asked with a look of worry plastered on his face “I’m late” I said between breaths. He nodded and gave me a gently smile before turning on his heels,as soon as he was almost out of my office he turned back around “oh Elizabeth I almost forgot 2 Agents from the FBI have requested a meeting with our conservator and that would be you, they’ll be here in an hour” he smile and resumed his journey out of my office. “Thanks Brent!” I shout to him as he saunters away. I finally get a chance to sit down and enjoy my coffee over my many emails. What kind of business does the FBI have here at an art museum? I push the thoughts to the back of my head and let my breathing get back to normal. After about an hour I hear a knock on my office door “come in '' I shout. Brent pushes the door open with a small nudge and smiles politely at me “they’re here Elizabeth '' I nod my head and gather up my paperwork. “Show them the way to conference room 2 I’ll be there shortly, thanks Brent '' I give a swift nod before packing up my stuff to bring into the conference room, I’m unsure of what they’re looking for so it’s better to be prepared. I make my way to the conference space with my stack of paperwork and my laptop bag slung over my left shoulder. I give it a gentle nudge and it swings right open.

I step into the large room and set all my paperwork and laptop bag on the large conference table in the middle of the room before making any introductions. My back was turned to the two men as I prepared all of my information in a nice spread on the table. Once I finished laying everything neatly out I cleared my throat and turned around to face them. I firstly notice a man a little taller than me who gives me an almost forced smile and proceeds to introduce himself “ thank you for meeting us Miss Thayer i’m agent Hamil and this is Agent ford” the man says offering his hand to shake mine. I extend my hand into his and give him a firm handshake with a smile on my face. “It's a pleasure to meet you Agent, please call me Liza” I say gingerly before letting my eyes wander to the taller boy beside him. I only had a small glance at him previously while i was talking to agent Hamil so i didn't get a good view of him yet. As my eyes find his face I begin to wonder where I knew him from. He looked awfully familiar yet I couldn't place my finger on it. The taller boy snaps me out of my staring spell and extends his hand out to mine “nice to meet you miss” he says before taking a step back shuffling in his spot. As I hear his hoarse voice my mind is able to source whose voice it is: Sam Winchester’s. I am so beyond confused at this moment that my brain is running in overdrive. I swallow the saliva in my mouth harshly before offering them a seat. Sam looks the same as I last saw him yet different at the same time. He's taller and older yet there's something sadder in his eyes. He looks exhausted from life. He let his hair grow out, he could barely see over the mop of shaggy hair sitting on his head and now his hair is about chin length it suits him this way. I take a breath and turn my head to Sam nervously. What if he doesn’t remember me? Will he laugh at me or think im stupid? What if it isn’t even him? “Sam Winchester?” I blurt out my brain spitting those words out before I even have time to think if I want to ask him that question.

Sam gives me a confused look as if he’s unsure of how to respond. He doesn’t answer my question but explains why they are meeting with me. Sam talks for a few minutes about an artifact they are investigating before his partner, the shorter one from earlier interrupts him. “Where do you think you know him from?” he asks coldly pointing to his partner, it seemed like the question was still on his mind. I brush the strand of hair out of my face and look over at them. “I’m sorry for the abrupt question you look like someone i went to college with” i look down at my feet feeling the embarrassment ripple over my body and hit my face causing a sense of warmth to heat my cheeks up. His partner who I assumed was Sam pipes up “what college did you go to” he asks looking at me with a look of interest “stanford” i reply still looking at the hardwood floors. I look up and my eyes meet his, he has a look of remembrance on his face and grins widely “Liza Thayer? Whoa it's been awhile” his partner punches him in the arm and gives him a look of what-are-you-doing. I faintly hear agent hamil or whatever his name is angry whisper into sam’s ear “we’re working a case man stop flirting with the museum lady” they continued to silently argue before sam looked back at me from across the table “so how have you been?” he asked so casually and all i’m wondering is where he's been after he stood me up and dropped off of the face of the earth. “You know, living life. How have you been? How’s Jess?” I ask, the air seems to shift after i ask about Jessica Sam shuffles into his seat uncomfortably “uh Jessica passed away the night of the party” she speaks slowly and looks away “i’m so sorry” i say softly giving him an empathic look.

We stop talking about our personal lives after that and begin talking about artifacts, giving them the info they need. “Here’s a little more in depth information on the origin and other useful things about the tablet you are investigating” I say and hand them a few loose papers I scooped up off the table. They nod and thank me for the help “come around if you have any more questions” I smile as i stand up. “Thanks for the help” Sam says once more before they both exit my office.

After the long day I settle in my cozy pjs on my couch with a warm mug of tea between my hands trying to wrap my head around the day. I was late and I ran into Sam, what an unexpected day. I felt bad about Jessica, this whole time I was victimizing myself when it wasn’t even about me. Sam went through a whole loss that night and I was worried that he stood me up? Boo hoo. I just switched friends on the tv when I heard my phone ring. I saunter over to my home phone that's primarily for business calls. I pick up and hear Brent on the other line “someone broke into the museum” he said panic running evidently through his voice. “What?’” I ask not expecting to hear that at 8pm at night. Brent explains the whole situation to me about how an ancient tablet was stolen shortly after close and that i need to come down and access the scene. I nod into the phone as if he could see me “I'll be down as soon as possible. Thank you for letting me know Brent, "I say before hanging the phone up. What is up with today? I think to myself before rushing out of the house to investigate whatever the hell is going on.

[sanjoongie]

Bestie

ღPairing: Yunho x Reader (f)

ღGenre: non-idol au, Yunho and reader are besties

ღWarnings: male dom/female reader sub, choking, spitting, clit rubbing, pantie gag, rough angry unsafe sex, male orgasm, female orgasm, dirty talk, degradation kink, spanking, male receiving oral, cum swallowing

ღWord count: 3,575

ღRated: 18+, smut, angst if you squint

ღSummery: Yunho is tired of being your best friend and is looking for something more. Luckily, he's got something you want too

ღDedicated to my sunshine @mejuii because without her I would not be writing this {Sorry Yunho, my bestie, she made me do it} Happy Birthday Yunho~

Today was Yunho’s birthday and you were especially excited to be celebrating it with your best friend. Yunho, being the nice guy and social butterfly that he was, usually needed to rent out an air bnb to house all the partygoers when he threw his birthday parties. So, you as the loyal hoe you were, went out to get Yunho’s cake, the one he forgot to order for his own damn self. You had just pushed the large sheet cake on top of the marble countertop, after fighting with the backdoor on this particularly stormy day.

Yunho bursts through the doorway separating the posh kitchen from the large entry way. “Hey Bestie, how’s the birthday go……...ing?” Your mouth drops a bit and you almost forget to finish your question as Yunho walks into the room.

Normally, your bff was sporting casual gear and fluffy hair, but today was a completely different story. He was dressed to the nines in a suit and tie, with his hair pushed back just so. That alone would have been enough to mess with you. But it was the angry look on his face that shook you to your core. You and Yunho had been friends for a long time and had never fought, not to that extent. By the look on Yunho’s face, he was about to make the thunderclouds envious of his fury.

Yunho is curt with you and every bit accusatory. “Where have you been? And could you please call me by my name today? It is my birthday after all.”

Your eyes widen and you're starting to feel a bit hurt. Where was all this reserved rage coming from and why was it being directed to you? So, you go on the defensive. “Where have I been? Oh, I don’t know, maybe picking up the world’s biggest cake so that you can faceplant into it later when you’re beyond drunk and enjoying the attention. And I always call you Bestie, what’s up your arse today, geez.”

Yunho took all of two strides with his long legs to plant himself directly in front of you. The anger was practically vibrating through every fiber of his being. And it was still directed towards you. “I am sick and tired of you putting me in that damn box. Today I have decided to give myself a birthday gift.” His eyes softened for a millisecond. That was all the warning you got before he bent down and kissed you.

His lips touch yours and you freeze. You were expecting soft and shy, because Yunho at his core is a soft, shy guy. But instead what you got from him was a ravenous hunger for your lips and a hand gripping the back of your neck.

You push him away with all your might, which is nothing compared to the tall, broad-shouldered boy who was kissing you, but you did it nonetheless. Now, the best friend that you knew and loved would have totally pulled away, laughing and telling you that it had just been a dare from San. But this Yunho, whoever he was, was not laughing. In fact, Yunho gently bit down on your lip and pulled it a bit before letting go. His eyes focused on you, dark and secretive, unlike anything you had ever experienced.

“What the hell was that, Yunho?” You yell, pushing at his chest even more.

“That was the past ten years of built up frustration,” Yunho sighs heavily but doesn’t budge.

You did not like the sound of that. “Well great, is that what you do to Wooyoung when he pisses you off too?”

Yunho runs a hand through his hair. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

"What is there to get?" You demand angrily.

Yunho speaks in a low tone as he slowly backs you into the cupboards. "I don't want to kiss Wooyoung, I want to kiss you. I want every single one of my friends to stop mocking me because you literally act like my girlfriend and yet you don't even see me as a man. Must I always be the puppy to you? Can't I be angry instead of always cheering you up? What if I want to be pissed and drunk? Can't I, just on my birthday? Then I can go back to being your golden bestie."

Except, even though everything Yunho had just said was about him saying fuck you to you, his hands had found their way along your collarbones. His palms were flush against your chest, the fingers splayed out and curling, looking to move up to your neck. And you couldn't move a damn muscle.

"Or," Yunho locks eyes with you and you have never dropped your gaze so quickly in your entire life. There was something about being able to see into his eyes that physically hurt. "You could let me show you what I've been wanting to do since high school when you said Mingi was such a sloppy eater."

It took you a moment for you to realize that Yunho was referring to the time you had complained about Mingi eating you out and not being able to find your clit. He had been like a dog munching down at his bowl. It had been an interesting first sexual encounter. You hadn't actually intended to tell Yunho about it, you didn’t exactly feel right talking to a male about about how his best friend ate you out. BUT you had been drunk one night, and loud, and Yunho had clearly overheard you complaining to your female best friend. That was embarrassing.

“You heard that? Oh god, forget you heard that. Better yet, let’s just put this all behind us, and celebrate your birthday. I promise I’ll call you Yunho all night, just like the birthday boy requested.” You smile but it was strained because Yunho still hadn't backed the fuck off yet.

Yunho’s fingers move up, loosely fitting around your neck, and he uses his thumbs to lift your head up so that you look at him. “If you’re taking requests, I have something else in mind.”

Your eyes settle on his right ear instead, to stay away from his eyes. “What are you doing?” You can’t help but whisper.

“Please, just look into my eyes.”

“Don’t do this, Yunho,” You beg.

“If I don’t do this right now, I’ll never do it, and I think I’m going to regret it,” Yunho admits.

You hear the tiny bit of loss in his voice and you can’t help but glance upwards to meet his eyes. Yunho has a small, sad smile on his face and it makes you frown immediately. As his best friend, you want to do whatever it takes to remove that look off of his face. He doesn’t deserve to be so sad on his birthday.

That was your first mistake.

Yunho’s tongue curls around his upper teeth, a slight smirk pulling the corners of his lips upwards. "You do wanna hear what I have in mind, don't you?" Fear must have shown in your eyes because Yunho’s smirk became a full fledged one. "I wanna hold you in place with my hands around your neck as I fuck you against these cupboards. I want you to scream my name so loud, that Seonghwa runs in here worried and catches us in the act. I want you to succumb to my every desire."

You gulp and you wince how it echoes throughout the kitchen like a mating call. Your whole body is tingling with excitement. You can't help what comes out of your mouth next. "You're willing to be rough with me?"

Yunho raises an eyebrow in question, "What, like you've asked before?"

You nod eagerly, "Everyone keeps saying they'll hurt me more than I think I want."

Yunho’s fingers tighten ever so slightly along your neck, and you gasp, as if you're ready to hold in your breath. Yunho appears amused at this. "You really just want someone to own you, don't you?"

"I--" You don't really know how to own up to that. "I want someone to take me."

"We need a safe word," Yunho says in a raspy voice, getting turned on with each sentence you say.

"You need a safe word," You quietly correct him.

"Me? Are you saying you're willing to go harder than I can?"

Your eyes are back to the floor now. This was a bit much for you. "Just pick something!" You whine.

"Hmmm," Yunho tips your head to the side and kisses the place just below your jaw but above his fingers. "What should my safe word be?" His tongue comes out between the kisses, sneaky little thing it is. Then he starts to suck harshly where he's kissed and you groan. "How about cake?"

"Fine fine, just, quickly before someone looks for us!"

You don't see it but Yunho’s eyes flash with anger. He doesn't like this attitude now. "I've changed my mind."

"What?" If you wanna be honest, you're having a bit of a hard time focusing with his hands around your neck.

"Open your mouth," Yunho demands. You open your mouth, obediently sticking your tongue out. "I'm going to spit in your whore mouth and then you're going to swallow it like the dutiful little brat you are. Then you will be mine until the sun rises. And I do not want to hear any form of the word no. Do you understand?"

You nod and Yunho spits onto your tongue. You swallow it exactly how he instructs and you keep your eyes lowered. "Yes. What now, Sir…?"

Yunho turns your body around so that your back is flush with his chest. You watch as his hands hover over and follow the plunge of your neckline. He doesn't touch you as he moves along the planes of your stomach and you hold your breath.

Yunho’s voice is gravelly as he says into your ear, "Hongjoong couldn't shut up one night about how fucking tight you were during that week we all went to Cabo. And not that I like to brag but you're going to need all the help you can get with me so…" Yunho puts both of his hands on top of your thighs, fingers languidly moving to pull your dress up. Your thighs are slowly revealed, followed by your crotch which happened to be covered in cotton pink underwear. "Cute," Yunho laughs into your ear and you wince. You had not planned on anyone seeing you without your dress on tonight.

"Yunho," You huff, head turned so you could tuck your chin into your shoulder.

"What?" God, you could hear the smirk in his voice, "Getting impatient for my fingers?" You purse your lips because you can't say no but you're too proud to say yes.

Oh, but Yunho doesn't like your lack of response. So he gets a big handful of your underwear, and with a resounding ripping noise, yanked them clean from your body.

"What the hell?!" You yell.

"Open your mouth, pretty baby," Yunho coos and you do what you're told even though your inner thighs and ass cheeks are stinging from Yunho literally ripping your underwear from your body. Yunho shoves your underwear into your mouth. "You're going to need this."

Yunho sucks on his index and middle finger before he mercilessly rubs your clit, those beautiful fingers of his making a maddening circle that make you push your pelvis forward. "Weren't you just telling me to stop? You sure you wanna come on my fingers now?"

You whine and breath deeply through your nose. Yunho was teasing you and it was driving you wild. "Patience isn't your strong suit, isn't it?"

You roll your hips, whimpering for more. Yunho obliges you, rubbing harder. But he needs a better angle so he lifts one of your legs up. With your clit more fully exposed, Yunho was able to coat one single index finger in your juices and then swipe back and forth along that swollen clit of yours. The direct contact would have made you hiss if you didn't have underwear in your mouth. With the speed and pressure, Yunho abuses your pussy so that you can enjoy that fine line of pleasure and pain. He almost stops when you stop whimpering but when your spine goes ramrod straight, Yunho knows he's done the right thing by you.

Your climax rips through your body, radiating from your lower half and lapping at your fingertips. You're still whining as you come down from your high. In between your legs you are an absolute mess. You are swollen, sensitive beyond measure and still tensing from the pleasure.

"That's it, pretty baby. Look how well you came on my fingers. I bet your pussy is just clenching, thinking about my cock inside of you."

You gulp at Yunho’s dirty talk. It's like he knew exactly what you liked to hear. You whine for him to remove the underwear and he agrees. If he was just about to split you apart, he definitely wants to hear you singing his name.

"...how?" You really, really try not to be as fucked out as you are right now but Yunho really edged you in the best way. How was he going to fuck you because you weren't sure you were going to be making any coherent thoughts anytime soon.

"I can make it easy for you, how about that?" Yunho pushes his fingers into your mouth and you clean them like it was natural.

You nod eagerly and that, coupled with his fingers in your mouth, and your eyes looking at him, is enough to make Yunho groan. "I can't wait any longer."

Yunho places his hands around your waist and lifts you onto the counter top, not that far from the cake you had slid on top. Your upper half is squished against the marble and your lower half is hanging off. With zero underwear and a very wet pussy, Yunho has no trouble stretching you to the max. But boy, did you feel fucking full. No, full implied you could take more, but you were pretty sure from Yunho’s first shallow thrusts, that he had more to push into you.

You try to wiggle your hips to get that extra more but Yunho presses firmly on your lower back. "Not yet," he says and he sounds a little strained.

"Please!" You begin the begging. "I want more. Fuck me so hard I have finger bruises on my hips where you held me. Fuck me so fast that I'm gasping for air between chanting your name. Fuck me with a fistful of hair pulling back. Please, Yunho, please."

Your last mistake was this monologue. Yunho can't hold back anymore, not with those mental pictures. Normally, he's terrified of hurting any girl with his thrusts. He's heard complaints about being too big, it's true, I promise. And with you, he probably would have held back, if not for that one look of yours that begged to be hurt but terrified of how it would be coming from him. Yunho had one chance to show you that he could be everything you wanted.

Yunho fucks you, rocking into you from behind and it's like the best thing since sliced bread. The way he's hitting you within, that gasp you do because it feels so good, you don't know if you have the breath to keep going. It's a bad angle for him to hit your g spot, but hitting your uterus walls was a whole other pleasure.

All you can do is keen at how good it all feels. You're not even thinking about how anyone could walk in and know exactly what's happening. You're not thinking about Yeosang holding this over your head for the next foreseeable five years or more. The only thing you're thinking about is getting that orgasm you're chasing.

"Mmmm Yunho, it feels so good, please don't stop, I'm so close."

Not that Yunho didn't want you whining and begging under him, but his brains kicked in at that moment. What if…

Yunho, with a lot of perseverance, pulled himself out of you. You're a scrambled ball of want right now so you cannot do anything but wait and see what the birthday boy wants.

You feel his fingers admire your ass and then a resounding smack fills the kitchen. You can only feel the slight pain but Yunho didn't realize how much he'd enjoy seeing his hand print on your ass. "Off the counter," he commands abruptly.

You wiggle but whose got energy after this up and down roller-coaster which is sex with dominating Yunho? So the tall boy helps you slide down. That makes you moan as your ass slides down the roughness of his pants. You can only manage to bend your legs under you as you sit on the floor. It's a long way to look up to Yunho, your dress spread over your legs, making you look innocent for a moment.

Yunho cups the side of your head tenderly. Before he had the daydreams of making you scream his name, his heartstrings had tugged when you had hugged him for the first time. Yunho was head over heels in love with you but the lust would have to do, for now.

"What I wouldn't give to just rub one out and bukake you right now," Yunho says in a rough and low voice.

You giggle softly, "You watch way too much Hentai, you weeb."

His hand moves to your chin, pulling your lower lip down with his thumb, "Open up," he demands.

You pout. Now you know you aren't getting your second orgasm. "Really?!"

Yunho is at the height of his glory. His proud face looks down at you, dark eyes commanding and tempting. You genuinely want this man to ruin you, time and time again. "Really," he replies firmly.

You open and Yunho slides his cock between your lips. You hollow out your cheeks immediately, bobbing along his length experimentally. If you thought he was big inside of you, he seemed even bigger in your mouth. If Yunho got out of control… You grin, internally at least. He didn't know what he was about to get.

The moan that comes from Yunho is almost worthy of recording for some personal time. Partly it's the blow job, but the other part is the visual. You're on your knees for him, looking up at him as his dick disappears in your mouth; he has to dig half-moons into his palms so he doesn't come right then and there.

But you don't let it stay cute for long. Eventually Yunho loses his control. His eyes are tightly shut and his thrusting is out of control. He is hitting the back of your throat and then he is moving far down enough to make you choke. You have to time your breathing with his thrusts, and even with that knowledge, you still choke.

"Oh fuck, you're gonna swallow right?" Yunho opens his eyes to see if you nod or shake your head and he stops abruptly. Yes, he wants to see you debauched and crumbling for him, but it's the tears at the corner of your eyes that gets him. Next, he quietly murmurs, "Cake."

You let Yunho leave your mouth with a resounding pop. You smile happily. "Told you so."

Yunho still narrows his eyes at you, making you even more smug. "Who said I was done?"

You roll your eyes, "Fine, I'll finish it."

You grab two fistfuls of his trousers, and force him down your throat. You deep throat Yunho until he is a whimpering mess. He holds onto your shoulders for dear life as he spills his seed down your throat. You swallow and swallow for ages before Yunho pulls out due to sensitivity. You wipe the corners of your mouth in satisfaction. "Now how is that for a birthday gift?"

Yunho is a bit starstruck right now. He was the one with the fucked out expression but he smiles tiredly. "Better than my daydreams."

You stand up and pat his head, "That's nice, Bestie."

That earns you a second slap on the other ass cheek. Matching big ass hand prints on each cheek was kind of a gift too, right?

"Yunho!" You cry out in indignation.

"Why are you teasing her, didn't she just buy your forgetful ass a whole cake?" Hongjoong announces his entrance into the kitchen.

You quickly shove some cake into your mouth, terrified you'll blurt out what had just happened out of sheer panic and your tendency to always utter the truth. Yunho grabs your hand as you go to take a second helping, putting those fingers in his mouth and swirling his tongue around them for the frosting.

"Really you two? Eating the cake before we even blow out the candles?" Hongjoong rolls his eyes dramatically before leaving the kitchen, not noting the sexual tension in the room at all.

"You're an asshole, Jung Yunho," You mutter under your breath, snatching back your hand.

Yunho picks up some icing with his index finger and swipes it playfully on your nose. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."

There was no fucking way Yunho wasn't going to ask for a part two…you were his until sunrise after all.

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[msmarvelwrites]

Dawn

Summary: ‘so far away… So alone. This place was once somewhere you could truly feel yourself. But if you couldn't fight, what good were you here?’

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Angst, mental health, fluff, a very sweet and supportive Bucky

Word Count: 914

Authors Note: This is a big one for me. The first time I’ve really been able to sit down and write anything. That’s saying something because there was a time I was writing almost every day. But such is life, and lately, life has been a whole lot of shit. Not to dwell, because I am happy I am here, and happy I am back. I’m getting help, but that alone was a battle. Point is, I know how hard it can be. So I wrote a little something about our favourite comfort character. Love and light xx

Your eyes flitted open as the glow of dawn streamed through your windows. Another sleepless night, your thoughts, screams of memories too vivid to allow you such a luxury.

 You knew in your heart that there were many resources at the Avengers compound to help you, but you also knew reaching was an admission of weakness. It meant you weren’t as strong as your teammates. Weren’t as brave, maybe. 

And perhaps you weren’t. 

Visions of your last mission flashed through your mind, taking up unwanted space as you dragged yourself out of the unkempt bed. It was the last time you saw any action. The battle that took you out of the game. You hated that you dwelled so heavily on it. The ache in your shoulder, a curt reminder of what exactly you had lost. 

Your friends filtered in and out of the compound, smiles of victory and stories of their fights tumbling from their lips. You felt so far away… So alone. This place was once somewhere you could truly feel yourself. But if you couldn't fight, what good were you here? 

A faint knock on your bedroom door shook you from your thoughts, reeling you back into the dismal room. You ran your hands over your tired features, desperate to pull yourself together enough to face whoever felt it their duty to check on you again. It was a common occurrence since you were benched. Their eyes, always filled with a pity you couldn't stomach to look at. But it wasn't their fault, and nor would you blame them. Maybe you weren't cut out for this?

Maybe it would be better if you just walked away- 

“Maybe if you just let me in we could talk about it?” 

His voice almost mirrored your thoughts, but his tone was much sweeter. The gavel of his voice indicating he hadn't been up much longer than you. 

Hesitantly, you shuffled across the room, your fingers dancing on the door knob until Bucky’s oceanic eyes met yours. 

“Hi, Buck.” You grumbled, though you tried to sound as warm as possible. “How was the mission?” The words were laced with jealousy, but he didn't need to know that. 

“Not bad… But I miss my partner.” He jested, taking a cautionary step into your room. 

You nodded your head, trying desperately to seem as mended as you could. You subtly scanned your room, looking for the shards of yourself that had broken away in the past weeks, pieces of a person who seemed unrecognizable now. 

Though Bucky didn't seem to fear your gaze as you did his. For as long as you had known him, he seemed to see right through the walls you had so haphazardly built around yourself. His eyes, crumbling cold stones to ash and washing them away. It’s why you worked so well together. 

It was also why you were off your game that day. 

Distracted by the need to protect him. Even when your own life was at stake. Even when all of your years of training begged you to fight. To win. 

When it came to Bucky, he was all you cared about. It was dangerous. And maybe that's why you didn’t return to the field days prior when Fury lifted your order for bedrest. 

“You're better off.” You protested, finding your way to the small sofa and collapsing into it. Bucky followed closely behind, kneeling down in front of you. His eyes searched for yours, watching carefully as you averted your gaze to the ceiling. 

“You know that's not true. You saved me out there. If it weren't for you-”

“If it weren't for you I wouldn't be in this mess!” You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. You could hear the hurt in his voice, see the confusion in his eyes. You were cruel. Worthless. Completely- 

“You are my best friend, Y/n. The woman who, since day one, has taken up every thought in my mind. If the roles were reversed, and it was me in your situation, I would have seen red.” Bucky spoke clearly, his eyes never leaving yours. “ Nothing. Literally nothing would have stopped me from getting to you. I know what you're feeling because I would have done the exact same thing, doll.”

You could only blink at him, mouth run dry as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“I feel so alone…” You finally choked out, your walls crumbling around you as Bucky took your hands in his. His cold vibranium fingers send a heat coursing through your body. A warth that had been so long forgotten. His touch thawed you, melting away your scars and bringing you back to him. 

“You aren’t.” He insisted, shifting onto the couch beside you.  “I’ll always be here. I’ve got your back, just like you've got mine, doll. You're my soulmate, whatever that means to you. Whatever you need, I’ll be it.” His words melted over you like a warm bath, tone soothing your aching body until you found yourself wrapped in his arms. 

“I just need you to be here.” You hummed into his chest. His soft chuckled vibrated through you, calming your fluttering heart. 

“Always.” 

His promise hung in the air around you, lulling you into a slumber you hadn’t felt in days. And it was in that moment, you felt truly whole again. Because Bucky wasn't just your partner, but in every sense of the world, your soulmate. 

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

"There is also a letter for you, sir."

Levi snatched it out of the messenger's fingers, thanking him by a quick, curt nod.

"You may go," he said, waiting for the soldier to leave, so he could read the letter in silence.

Just as he opened it, however, Zeke's face appeared right in front of him, materializing out of thin air.

"Got a love letter, Captain?" he mocked, his eyes glinting. "Or were you popular only once in your life?"

There was a fire right behind Zeke. Levi longed to throw him there. He almost smiled, as he imagined the beast running around with his pants on fire. Watching it would be much more satisfying than simply punching him in a face. Although.... if the beast lost his pants, Levi would be forced to become an unwilling spectator to Zeke walking around half naked. And Levi would rather slit his own throat with a sword.

"Mind your own business, beast," he grumbled, having his fill of arguing with Zeke. The bastard just wanted to get rise out of him anyway. One time Levi had let him. He wouldn't allow Zeke to have another victory. "And get lost. If you won't let me read the letter in peace, I won't let you read at all."

Levi pointedly looked at the book in Zeke's hands. The beast took a staggering step back, cradling the book protectively to his chest.

"Now I see why you weren't popular," he arrogantly scoffed, but left hurriedly before Levi could act on his threat.

When Zeke was a safe distance away, Levi sat down by the fire and opened the letter. The handwriting consisted of small, carefully curved letters. Armin's handwriting.

Levi hesitated to open it. He hoped it wasn't anything urgent. He hoped it wasn't bad news.

But if the things remained just as they were when he left, it could very well be both.

Oh how he hated being away. When he was in a thick of it, at least, he had the illusion of having control.

And right now, the only thing he could control was Zeke. As long as the beast’s and their goals aligned and the beast let Levi control him. And who knew when that was going to change.

It was going to change, Levi was sure of it.

Worry about that later, when the time comes, he told himself, as he shook his head, pushing anxious thoughts to the back of his mind, and finally opened the letter.

Sitting a little closer to fire, he started reading.

Captain Levi!

I hope the messenger brought you everything you needed. If supplies are running low, please tell me so.

I'm sure you want to know what's going on our side. Do not fret, we're holding on. For now. The tensions are still running high, but Commander Pixis is doing a great job of keeping everything under control. Commander Dawk helps plenty too, and together they're working closely with Chief Zacklay to ensure the island's safety.

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to Historia, requesting her to come back. I know she has to care for herself and her future child, but I think... maybe, we can use people's love for the Queen to put an end to their protests. There are more and more people gathering next to our headquarters. I think it’s time for her intervention.

Another matter you should know about is the fate of these Marleyans kids, Gabi Braun and Falco Grace. Unfortunately, they escaped from the prison, but rest assured we're going everything we can to locate them.

Truth be told, I worry about them. It's dangerous for them to walk around the island, while we're in the middle of that mess. Many people don't like Marleyans, so I hope these kids are at least smart enough to not start any trouble. Hange-san told me the very same thing - she worries for Falco and Gabi, but doesn't think they'll do something stupid.

And before you can ask, yes, I've interrogated Hange-san about their escape, she knows nothing. What's more, Jean, Sasha and Connie were with her in the presumptive time of the escape. If you don’t trust her, at least have faith in them.

Well, as I said, we're working on bringing them back.

Oh, and, by the way, Captain, we let Hange-san stay in her old room, just like I told you we would. She praised whoever cleaned it. Don't worry, though, I kept your secret. Hange-san is too smart to be fooled so easily, but, alas, I did my best.

If you need anything, send a letter immediately. Stay alert and keep your wits about you, Captain.

The others are eagerly waiting for your return. Connie and Sasha are doing their best at keeping the headquarters clean. And Mikasa is doing a great job of taking over your duties and training the recruits. Oh, and Moblit-san sends his regards.

I hope you’re holding on. I’m sure you are.

Best wishes, Armin

With a letter still in his hand, Levi stared at the fire, thinking it all over.

Bringing Historia back could help ease the tensions, or… It could make it all even worse. But the Queen’s influence was undeniable, in that regard, Armin was right. She was probably the only one who could get them out of this mess.

And these damned Marleyan brats… Escaping from the prison was not an easy feat. Marleyans had taught them well, it seemed.

Was Hange involved in their trainings as well?

Whether she was or she was not, Levi didn’t believe she had helped them to escape. What for? If someone finds out where they came from, they’d be killed on sight. Hange would never do something so careless. If she truly cared about these kids, and it seemed like she actually did, she’d bargain with Armin and others, ask them to let the kids stay with her.

In her room. That he had cleaned.

He briefly wondered what Hange reaction had been like. Was she surprised? Confused? Touched?

She was most probably enraged, Levi concluded. Pissed off that all of her things weren’t on their places – Levi made sure they weren’t. Maybe, he was too much of a pitiful idiot to throw her shit out, but he knew the other way to get to Hange.

He used to know so many things about Hange.

There had been a time he thought he knew everything. Now he knew better.

***

"Another letter?"

As soon as the messenger left, Zeke was right beside him, his head raised high, as he attempted to take a peak over Levi's shoulder.

Levi swatted him away, too confused by the letter and the large enough package he had received to answer Zeke with the violence he so rightfully deserved.

"Get lost," he just said, blindly reaching behind him to push Zeke away.

"I don't care what you have there," the beast scoffed, lifting his haughty nose even higher. "I just came to ask if there are any letters for me."

Levi looked up at him in surprise, his lips curling up. Letters for Zeke? The notion was so ridiculous he almost started to laugh.

"Do you seriously think there is someone who would write letters to you? Your dear brother is in prison and he isn't allowed to talk even to his friends, and you expect a letter from him?"

In the face of Levi's open mockery, Zeke's eyes darkened. "Eren is not the only who can write to me. From what I've heard, she's not in prison anymore."

Oh, so he was using that card again? Levi wasn't going to succumb to it. He wasn't. Not again.

Still, his fingers gripped the letter more tightly, as he threw a sizzling gaze at the beast.

But. At least, he didn't hit him. Clearly, a progress.

"She is not allowed to write letters either," he revealed. "And letting Hange reside in her old room wasn't my decision."

"Clearly," Zeke nodded, his lips moving upwards. "If it was up to you, she'd be sleeping in your room, isn’t that right, Captain?"

The letter in his hand crumpled as Levi attempted to take a breath and keep himself from latching on the bastard.

But clearly, Zeke wasn’t finished. Clearly, he wanted more of Levi’s rage.

“And, just so you know,” he lowered his voice, as though he was going to tell him a secret. He crouched down to his level too, his hand next to his ear. Levi was too dazed to push him away. “When Hange cares about someone, she always finds a way.”

“Then where is your letter, Zeke?”

There was a beat of silence, the beast’s mouth falling open as he struggled to find his own words. Fucking finally, he managed to get him back.

Reveling in his small victory, Levi pushed past Zeke, heading to his tent.

There, he lighted the candle and put the package down onto a wooden table, sitting down beside it. Deciding to start with the letter, he opened it in a quick, fluid motion. His chest warmed, as he recognized Moblit’s neat, delicate handwriting. He didn’t even notice it, his thoughts too scattered amidst all this mess, but he missed his friend. More than he thought he would.

Captain!

How are you doing? Hope you’re not picking too many fights with our shifter-ally. Remember, we need him alive - at least, until we feed him to someone else. Although, I’m sure you’re keeping it together. You know just how important this is.

As on our end, things are not going all too well. Truthfully, I don’t know how bad it actually is, I have been out of loop lately, but I trust Commanders Pixis and Dawk and our Armin to get us through this.

There are rumors of the Queen getting back, or so Sasha told me. In my opinion, it’s dangerous to let Historia into the city, but, maybe, it really can help ease the tensions. Maybe, if she advises everyone to calm down, protesters will stop shouting under my window. It’s a good thing you aren’t here, Captain, these protesters – Yeagerists, as they started to call themselves, - are absolutely horrible. They’re loud and rowdy, and, honestly, their demands are making me a bit worried.

Maybe, they’re so bold because you aren’t here. I’m sure one deadly look from you and they’d scatter.

I also miss our evening tea parties, you wouldn’t believe it, I know – but I really do, terribly so. I went to the Niccolo’s place recently, tried a new pastry there, you will absolutely love it. I wanted to send it to you, but I was afraid it won’t be as delicious after a long road.

Now, I think it’s time to get to the thing that interests you the most – the package I sent you. I hope you haven’t opened it yet, so let me explain what it is first. I’ve included a few of my sketches in the second part of the letter, so you can get the overall idea of what it is.

In your absence, I’ve started to visit Sq Hange-san more often (I know what you’d say – we can’t trust her and should be more careful around here, but… we’ve been through much together, even if some part of it was a lie. It’s stronger than me. I’m sure you can understand) and we started working together on something new.

I’m not going to lie, working with her after all these years is still exciting to me. She’s just as brilliant as I remember, perhaps even more so, now that she doesn’t have to hide the whole extent of her knowledge.

She critiqued our performance during the Reid on Liberio. I was offended at first, surely, it wasn’t such a disaster. What we did was disastrous, I can’t and won’t deny it, but how we did it? It really was rather a success? Minimal amount of casualties on our side and another shifter, taken away from Marley…

But Hange-san wasn’t nearly as impressed. She said that we could do so much better, if only we improved our equipment.

Of course, I couldn’t refuse her offer to work together again. So, without further ado, here I present to you, Captain – the new uniform of Survey Corps’ soldier. We used some parts of our old uniform and uniforms of Anti-Personnel Control Squad, so now aiming and recharging the gun is a lot easier and carrying thunder spears is more comfortable too.

We haven’t done enough tests on this one yet, and, as of now, we only have a few models (yours is actually the first one we made), but I do think the modified version should be implemented among our ranks.

I’m eager to hear what you think about it, and I’m even more eager to have you back with us.

I’m not the only one who waits for you to come back. One person in particular is interested in your well-being. She doesn’t actually ask, but she always listens carefully. Turns out, reading Hange-san is as easy as it’s always been.

Waiting to hear from you,

Moblit.

Whenever he was expecting to read in Moblit’s letter, that wasn’t it. He half-expected that the package would contain a new type of tea or a warmer blanket. What he did not expect was a new uniform.

That Moblit created with Hange.

He looked at the pages, attached to the letter. Detailed, realistic looking sketches were undoubtedly made by Moblit’s skilled hand. But the crooked, hurried notes could only be written by her.

Staring at these sketches brought back unwanted memories. Nights, spent in the dimly-lit lab, brown eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm and excitement, burning brighter than the candle beside them, the deep, melodic voice enchanting him with one theory after another.

How calm, how content he had felt during these fleeting moments, during these nights he spent next to Hange.

And now the only emotions these memories brought back were pain and shame. She lied, she betrayed, and yet he still couldn’t let these moments go, still held them inside his heart, in the depth of his soul where no one would see them but him.

She lied, she betrayed, and all these moments were fake, but they still were. They happened, and when they did, they brought him an evanescent happiness.

And he was pathetic enough to still treasure them.

With a deep sigh, Levi put the letter down, reaching over for the package.

He took the wrappings off slowly and carefully, despite his eagerness to know what was inside. He didn’t know who made them, who sew the fabric together. It could very well be Moblit, the man was talented in various areas. It could very well be Hange. Despite her messy appearances, she was good with needle and thread, he had learnt it first-hand, when he got injured during expedition and Hange had sewed the skin of his arm quickly and neatly, her touch surprisingly careful and gentle.

When he was done with the wrapping, he took out what was inside. Black pants, black shirt, it looked so different from the old uniform.

He put it on, meticulously checking that every belt and fasting was in its place, zipped and secured. Finished, he stood before the mirror, turning this and that way.

It wasn’t ugly, Levi was sure it was very efficient and he would test it all by himself, when his squad would go to sleep, but he liked the old one better. He felt more comfortable in it, more like himself. More like a Captain of Survey Corps who fought against bloodthirsty titans. But the weapons this uniform was modified for wasn’t made for defeating titans. It was made for defeating humans.

And he still struggled with accepting that new, simple truth.

He couldn’t deny, though, Moblit was right.

Hange was just as brilliant as they all had remembered.

It made him think – albeit, fleetingly – how far would they go, if they had her with them? How far would she have taken them if she was always on their side?

How happy he would be, if she still had been with him?

Pointless brooding, he decided and started to peel off the uniform.

Its efficiency in fighting other humans was doubtless. That’s why Levi hoped he would never have to use it.

***

“Um, Captain, wait a moment, please…” the messenger frowned, scratching his head in confusion, as he stared at the letter in his hands. “It’s not signed, but maybe I’ve lost something…”

His put his arm inside the back pack, rummaging through it. Levi waited for a second, two, ten, twenty… The messenger was still at it. His patience running low, Levi grabbed the unsigned letter. If it was some soldier’s love letter, he’d get it back. But if that was something important…

He opened the letter.

And had his breath caught in his throat, because that— that crooked, hurried handwriting… He could recognize it anywhere.

“I’ll be in my tent,” he announced, his voice shakier than he was comfortable with.

He all but tumbled inside, leaning against the table to keep himself steady. His eyes ran over the letter, taking it all in.

The message was short, fairly simple. But it raised so many questions, filled him with emotions so raw he could choke on them.

Levi,

Something bad is going to happen. Don’t take your eyes off Zeke. Don’t underestimate him.

Be careful. And, please, come back home safely.

It took him but a moment to read it all. But the few words of the letter kept replaying in his mind over and over, making it impossible to fall asleep. Levi mulled it over again and again, trying to find some sense, trying to understand.

He got his first clue the very next day, when the messenger was back again, sweaty and panting.

Chief Zacklay is dead, he said, murdered inside his own office.

And the look Zeke had given him, the long, intent gaze that didn’t waver as Levi had followed after his soldiers to get more details.

That was his second clue.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report vii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: FINALLY~ we get to see a little bit of JK’s pov heh 

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii​ @zeharilisharaban​ @btsbunny07​ @turquoiseandplaidinautumn  @aamxxrii @codeinebelle ​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

“I hope you don’t mind us picking up a friend first then a drive thru afterwards... we did promise  someone a ride to the ceremony as well.” Chohee eyes Jungkook through the rear-view mirror. “Plus, we haven’t had any breakfast yet sooo…” Your new passenger uncharacteristically nods with unbridled enthusiasm. Huh.

“Totally not an issue at all. If you don’t mind, breakfast is on me,” he announces, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. You raise a freshly threaded eyebrow. There is no way this kid is actually offering to pay for your food. Jungkook clears his throat quietly, “Um...since you guys offered me a ride...you know…” 

Without even having to look at each other, you just know you and Chohee have similar smiles plastered on each of your faces. “Well,” Chohee makes a quick glance at the man seated at the back, “if you insist, Jungkook-ssi. How nice of you to do so.” 

You’re positive Jeon Jungkook will regret he even offered - in half an hour. Probably less. 

Just recently, Chohee has decided to relive an old hobby of hers: teasing you relentlessly with men clearly way out of your league until you actually end up investing much more time than intended (just as planned by Chohee) - until you come to the realization that there wasn’t going to be even the slightest chance of them even liking you back. End point is - you end up getting heartbroken for irrational reasons. 

Chohee, whose eyes sparkle with mirth with every mention of the Jimin, continues her teasing, despite your constant reminders to have her energy and time diverted to another subject, instead of poking her head through your currently non-existent love life. 

It’s an undisputed fact that Jimin is a cutie and quite the charmer, especially with his heroic deed of saving your sorry ass from getting your drinked spiked at the bar. However, there is a part of you that knows the slightest bit of infatuation you might feel or might have felt for Jimin was probably caused by the lack of interaction with men for the majority of your collegiate life. Of course, you always came back to your principles, that of which is prioritizing your career to shun love interests. 

Admittedly, you might have gotten distracted once, but you won’t ever let that happen again. 

In line with your best friend’s attempt to have you score a date and a boyfriend eventually, (her timeline, not yours!)Chohee had even gone so far as offering Jimin a ride to the oath taking ceremony that’s going to be held today at the Coex convention center at Gangnam. 

With Jimin’s apartment just a couple of blocks away from the gasoline station, you spot him right away when Chohee turns right into the corner. He’s stood by the entrance of his apartment building, looking effortlessly attractive as he scrolls through his phone while waiting. 

Chohee presses her fist lightly against the center of the wheel, the car emitting a soft honk to get Jimin’s attention. Jimin gives a curt wave in acknowledgment and reaches between his legs to grab his satchel. As soon as Jimin opens the car door, his head jolts slightly backward in surprise when he sees another passenger already inside. 

Chohee does the ice-breaker, introducing Jungkook to Jimin while she drives off. “Just before we got to your place, we had to fill the tank first and whaddya know? Met Jungkook at the gas station too! His bike broke down and I’ve offered him a ride - ergo, your new seatmate.” She adds a thumbs up. “Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin.” 

Contrary to Chohee’s cheerful voice mere seconds ago, awkward silence ensues after the two men bow to each other in greeting. The only subject of sanity the car was holding onto was the soft voice of Chohee’s navigation app coming from her phone on the dashboard. 

Why was it so hard to talk when you’ve all got at least a few things in common? 

Right, maybe it’s the fact that Jimin may or may not have known about your beef with Jeon Jungkook. Chohee’s doing, obviously. 

Thankfully, you spot a Burger King joint along the way and propose getting a greasy breakfast instead of looking for other options. There are murmurs of agreement heard in the suddenly cramped space of your best friend’s car. “Jungkook-ssi, breakfast still on you, yeah?” Chohee asks, joining the queue. 

“Uh…yeah-” 

“Perfect! Just making sure because _________ and I are famished!” Okay - that wasn’t exactly the word you were looking for, but if it gets you the free meal, then you’re absolutely ravenous. Chohee’s eyes briefly pass yours before sending a wink in Jungkook’s direction. “How ‘bout you Jimin-ssi? You hungry?” 

He looks at you, then Chohee, then at Jungkook. “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.” You see Jungkook trying painfully hard to not let his eyes dart around too much. Just then,  a low rumble erupts from Jimin’s stomach. Woops. Your brain can dictate your emotions but tummy would never lie outright. 

“Jimin-ssi!” Jungkook clasps a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “It’s fine! Breakfast is on me. Order up, bro!” 

With Jimin still looking hesitant, Jungkook decides to add a little fairy dust to his encouragement, “think of it as a mini celebration of us finally getting to be licensed doctors in a few hours!” Jimin gives in with very evident reluctance, even offering to pay for the whole group instead at one point. 

Your swear you see hesitation cross Jungkook’s eyes briefly, but you’re glad he’s a man of honor, even if it be for this particular instance only, firmly dismissing Jimin’s proposal. Which is perfect, honestly, because  this time you get a chance at revenge and a very hearty breakfast. 

“No crumbs on the floor, please!” 

From the backseat, you see Jungkook eyeing your paper bags on yours and Chohee’s laps, face stoic as ever. Emphasis on bags. A little more concentration and Jungkook can pretty much send lasers blasting through his eyes with the way he’s scrutinizing your orders. 

As shameless as it sounds, you and Chohee were never ones to back out of a free meal - and make the most out of it, especially when one had offered so nicely. So imagine Jungkook’s reaction when he and Jimin only got a Whopper meal and you and Chohee get upgraded full meals. 

“Doesn’t seem like we’re the ones who should be worrying about crumbs…” Jungkook mutters, taking a bite of his fry that’s a little too harsh for a slice of a poor fried potato. 

“You say something Jungkook?” Chohee queries, unabashedly letting out a small burp after taking a sip of her chocolate flavored milkshake. Bowing his head, Jimin tries to hide his smile as he takes a bite of his burger. You decide to step in, wanting to add a little more MSG to your breakfast menu this fine morning. 

“Hey Chee, heard of the news last Monday? There had been recent occurrences of drivers kicking out their passengers in the middle of the expressway, especially this road in particular… talk about some zombie apocalypse shenanigans...I wonder why though…” 

Jungkook clears his throat, addressing you this time. “Your strawberry milkshake...good, yeah?” With cheeks flushed, Jungkook dares not to look forward, murmuring his regrets over ordering more food next time. 

You nod with genuine gusto, throwing him an additional thumbs-up, which only causes Jungkook to sulk slightly in his seat. You eat the rest of your food with a bright smile. Ah, free food - what else is there to say? 

“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.” 

After reading the Hippocratic oath, the newly declared licensed medical doctors collectively put their hands down and take their seats. There is an immediate sense of fulfillment heavy in the air. Nobody can blame them - not when one has gruelled through six years of medical school. 

Jungkook inhales deeply, yet he still feels like he’s out of breath. 

He draws in another long one, savoring each second of exhale afterwards. From his peripheral vision, Jungkook watches you as you wave endlessly to the someone on the far right where the family and relatives are seated. Though he can’t see much from afar, with the way your hands are moving slower by the second, he figures you’ve already managed to catch the attention of whoever it is you were waving at. 

Jungkook diverts his eyes somewhere else, eventually landing on the stage where he sees his own father, standing behind the podium as he gives - what people beside him would consider - a ‘motivational’ speech in front of all the new doctors of Korea. 

He wonders if he could even see him, if he knew that his own son actually made it through college, if he realized that they were under the same roof at this very moment - an occurrence he never thought would happen again. 

Jungkook reverts his eyes back to you, watching you in secret as you talk to yourself while trying to address someone else. So you were waving to your parents after all. Cute. The man couldn’t fight back the small smile etching onto his face.  

He was happy for you - a genuine statement, even though majority, if not all, your encounters consist of you both bickering like small kids… And yet, he can’t deny the strong feeling of envy brewing at his heart, knowing that he could never have the same type of interaction you had with your parents, with how tight you all seem. 

Jungkook felt sick. Even though you ordered twice as much as he did, he felt like throwing up. He wanted this ceremony to be over with already.

Much to Jungkook’s relief, the program ends shortly after that. Excited to greet and congratulate the new batch of doctors, people from all sides of the venue rush to the entrance. With literally nowhere else to go, Jungkook decides to follow you through the crowd, in the hopes that you’ll lead him to Chohee and Jimin so he could properly thank them for the ride and he could be on his way. 

He’s surprised to not see you the least bothered by it, but then again, the convention center is packed with both the oath-takers and their relatives, so you might have really not known that he’s been following you all along. 

Like usual, it’s Chohee who notices him first. This girl is everywhere, all the time. 

“Jungkook, you’re here!” 

Chohee's acknowledgement of his presence causes you to turn in your heel quickly to verify it. You stare at him briefly, opening your mouth as if to say something when someone calls out your name.  “Mom!! Dad!!” 

Your English call causes a few onlookers and Jungkook recalls somebody once pointing out that you were a foreigner - and that you were also the first one to finish at the top of the class at SNU. 

With Chohee’s parents tailing yours, they rush to their own daughter, congratulating her with a hug and a cute bouquet of tulips. As Jimin appears with his own party not too long afterwards, Jungkook figures it’s his cue to leave. At this rate, none of you would have noticed if he actually left. 

Just as Jungkook was about to take off, a small hand grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him and he swears he sees your lips curve upward a little before dragging him back to your little group. Stunned as ever, Jungkook wonders if he hinted on a little bit of concern in your features… and you smiled at him! For the first time! At least that’s what he thought he saw. 

Admittedly, all interactions between you and him were not the most friendly. Jungkook knew he acted like a dick a couple of times, but it’s the only way he knows that might allow you to lower your guard because the only thing he was certain of was that you get worked up every time you see him. 

Regardless of whether or not it really was a smile, Jungkook finds himself standing in the midst of this gathering of some sort. “Moms, Dads, this is Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.” 

The moms suddenly gush over them, while their fathers eye the two younger men warily. “Are you?… you’re not…” Chohee’s mother nudges her husband a little too obviously. “If they are, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” she grits, a bright smile plastered on her face. Jungkook wanted to laugh at the uncanny resemblance with her daughter. 

“Oh what young fine men you are! Mrs. Park, you must be very proud of your son!” Your mother exclaims, resting her cheek on her palm. “But Jungkook-ssi, your parents must be lost then… my husband and I couldn’t figure out how this whole convention center works either…” 

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, lips pursed. “Oh. Um, my parents won’t make it today. They’re very busy people…” Jungkook drags his words, hoping they’ll drop the subject. 

Well, they did, but there was an inevitable pregnant pause after that - one which Jungkook was avoiding in the first place. Chohee’s mother clasps her hands together, breaking the awkward tension. “Uh - would you like to join us then? A little celebration for a memorable day?” 

Jungkook bows his head curtly and declines the offer. He wanted to, but he knows it’ll only do more damage to the wound. “It’s okay, Ma’am. I still have quite a lot of things to do today, like getting my motorcycle fixed.” Jungkook nods to Chohee and the girl briefly recalls how they got to the venue together. 

Jungkook doesn’t take long after that, bidding his goodbye to everyone and thanking Chohee for the ride that morning. “Well, I’ll be going now. __________-ssi, Chohee-ssi, Jimin-ssi, guess I’ll….see you when I see you.” 

“See you when we see you then,” you reply and Jungkook swears it’s an actual smile on your face this time. He returns the action and gets on his way, hoping that he really does get to see you all another time.

© joontier 2021

[flamehairedwritings]

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the third day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!

This story contains swearing and two idiots in love.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

“No.”

The word comes out of your mouth before you can even attempt to stop it.

“Shit,” he says in reply.

The couple at the table next to you glance up before quickly looking away, not wanting to be caught and embarrassed on their special night. You don’t care at all, though, because you’ve been set up on a blind date with Jim fucking Hopper.

The most irritating man in the entire universe.

The exact same thoughts seem to be running through his mind because his jaw is moving and he’s staring at you. Stood there in a fucking beige (is that linen?) suit with a Hawaiian shirt on underneath, hair combed, beard trimmed. And he’s staring at you like you’re the anomaly here.

I’m gonna kill Jodie.

Raising your eyebrows, your hands lift.

“Right. Well. There’s obviously been a mistake here.”

“You think?” His eyebrows are also rising, hands going to his hips.

Even though you despise him, that irks you.

“Okay, so, you can just go, then.” You sit back down, hands returning to the menu you’d dropped on the table in your sudden standing.

“Me?”

You glance up at him, his tone and indignation surprising you. “Yeah. Bye.”

Your eyes drop back to the menu, looking at it but not exactly reading because he’s not moving.

“Uh, and why me?”

I’m dealing with a fucking child.

Lips parting, you look up at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it is.

“Because I was here first?”

Hopper snorts, arching an eyebrow. “What, you gonna eat on your own?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah, I’m going to eat on my own on Valentine’s Day and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Who even sets two people up on a date on Valentine’s Day?!

Before you can even think about looking at the menu again, Hopper scoffs.

“Well, I don’t want to go, you go.”

“No,” you shoot back incredulously, face twisting like you’ve tasted something sour.

He stares at you. And then he shrugs.

“Fine.”

Gripping the back of the chair opposite you, he pulls it back and sits in it.

“Oh my God,” you hiss, “Go and sit somewhere else.”

Adjusting his suit jacket, he then casts a hand around, gesturing at the restaurant. “Can’t you see it’s busy here? I’m not gonna find another seat.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

Then, he lifts up his menu and peruses it, a finger tapping against his lips. You just stare at him, feeling hot with frustration and irritation. Yes, you could just leave and buy something from the store on the way home and settle in for a cosy night, but you’d so been looking forward to a night out in a nice restaurant and some stimulating conversation from someone Jodie had said was perfect for you.

Perfect for you.

PERFECT FOR YOU.

That’s all you’d manage to get out of her about your date, apart from that it was on Valentine’s Day at Enzo’s and the employees there were aware of what kind of date it was.

You just can’t stop staring at him as he casually flicks through the menu while you quietly simmer with anger. This is why he gets under your skin so much; he’s just so stubborn. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you force yourself to browse your own menu, even though you already know what you’re going to order. You’d arrived early, hating the idea of being flustered by trying to locate your date, and he’d... well, he’d arrived on time actually.

A pleasant surprise, but not enough to soothe your skin that prickles at the mere mention of him. Your friends and colleagues just laugh when the topic comes up.

Hop’? Hopper? The charming Chief of the town? Heart of gold underneath all that gruffness? Those big, strong arms and that flirty mouth? How could you not like him?

Well, you just... don’t. No reason. He’s not done anything to you, not said anything, you just... don’t. You can’t even really remember the first time you spoke to him when you moved here. Was it at a bar? The diner? You just remember the feeling when a friend had introduced you; prickly skin and a flipping stomach. His attitude towards you had left you feeling strange, too; you remember that he was blunt and eager to get away, barely looking you in the eye.

What an asshole.

... But, yeah, all right, maybe you had found him attractive, but then you’d seen him in bars picking up enthusiastically willing women left, right and centre and it had just... irked you, considerably.

Who does he think he is? I bet he thought whoever he was meeting tonight was going to be another one, that she’d be completely bowled over and was going to fall at his feet. Well, absolutely not, no thank you.

Every meeting you’ve had since, passing each other on the street, meeting each others gaze at the bar, having to converse in group conversations at parties, standing in line behind each other at the store, has been strained, with him either quickly looking away a little too late, so obviously not wanting to engage with you, or you just flat out ignoring him.

The waiter arrives with a smile which you return, somewhat forced, and if he’s noticed the more than slight tension at the table, he doesn’t let on at all. After he cheerfully takes your order, you then just have to sit and watch Hopper take his sweet time, one leg now balancing on the thick thigh of his other, menu in one large hand, talking to the waiter like he knows him, asking about what’s best and blah, blah, blah.

Crossing your arms, you stare at him, hoping the force of your gaze will somehow will him to hurry up. He glances at you once to just ask, “You want another bread basket?”

“Yes,” you grit out.

What kind of a question is that? Of course you do.

Snapping the menu shut, somehow the smooth motion of it just fuelling your irritation, he smiles at the waiter as he hands it back, and then the waiter leaves... and it’s just you two again.

You watch Hopper’s gaze travel the room, taking in all the laughing, chatting people, most if not all couples. He folds his own arms, the material of the suit stretching over his biceps, and you swiftly look away as his gaze reaches you.

“Guess Jodie’s a shit matchmaker, huh.”

Oh, God... You can’t just ignore him. Well, you can, but you imagine he’d just carry on talking anyway.

Taking a breath, which could be interpreted as exasperated, you nod. “Yeah. Didn’t even know you knew her.”

He shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Wow, she’s had to put up with you that long─”

“What is your problem with me?”

Your mouth remains open, your next word dying on your tongue as you stare at him. It stays open as you point at yourself, eyebrows shooting up, watching him just look at you, expressionless.

“Uh... What? You’re the one who has a problem with me.”

Now he frowns. “Excuse me?”

What.

Are you kidding me.

“Oh, don’t look so affronted, you always seem so irritated when I’m around and that you hope you don’t get stuck talking to me.”

He scoffs, but doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just makes half-laughing, half-astonished sounds. “... Me? I seem like that? You look at me like I’m the shit on your shoe!”

“If that’s true it’s only because of how you look at me.”

“And how do I look at you?” He says the words accusingly, challenging you, and it throws you for a moment because do his thoughts not influence his expressions?

It’s your turn to scoff as your eyebrows rise. “You... You look at me like...”

Nothing comes out of your mouth, every single encounter with him flashing through your mind, the filter of pre-conceived irritation and notions falling away.

Oh, no...

The times he’s looked away quickly after you’ve met his gaze... Not out of not wanting to engage but... not wanting to be caught looking. His curtness the few times you have spoken, not out of rudeness or wanting to get away, but because of awkwardness in your presence. The fact he’s sat down and has stayed.

Even the way he’d said ‘You think?’ minutes before... not said sarcastically, but stated. Asking you.

And he... he looks at you with tender eyes.

Oh my God...

Hopper shifts in his chair as he clears his throat, your thoughts and realisations most likely playing out across your features.

“... Uh...” Your mouth is still open, too, not knowing what to say.

I’ve been such an idiot.

He’s pushing his fork around on the table-cloth with his finger, waiting for whatever you’re going to say, probably expecting to be shot down or for you to laugh. Instead, you give him the truth.

“... I don’t have a problem with you, really... I just thought you had one with me.” Your voice comes out a lot quieter than you’d intended, but very much sheepish.

His head shakes as his jaw moves slightly, but there’s a light smile on his lips, and his gaze finally lifts to meet yours again; boldly and openly.

The tenderness is there.

“No. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Okay.” The single word leaves you quietly, and something deep inside you relaxes.

“Do you want me to go?” he says, just as quiet as you had, and it’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

Licking your lips, you shake your head. “No. No, I’d... I’d like you stay. I think we should start this all over again.”

Hopper nods a few times, his smile lingering.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

You find you’re smiling as well, your fingers lacing together in your lap.

“All right... What do you wanna talk about?”

—

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[hyperfixationtimego]

Alright we’re trying this angst thing again

Diamond Brothers Angst because I said so

Both Daiya and Mondo have huge self esteem issues bc of the crash

Both think stuff along the lines of what the fuck I could have prevented that

Neither Daiya nor Mondo can sleep very well because when they hear vehicles driving past and the occasional screeching tires they’re back at the scene of the accident

They hear a semi truck rumbling past? Suddenly neither of the brothers remember how to move or breathe properly

They both survived the crash but they were both injured severely bc fuck dude that was a truck that hit them

The Crazy Diamonds witnessed the whole thing and they were Worried™️

And we all know how the Owadas hate being vulnerable

Neither of the brothers could actively ride their motorcycles for a long time after the crash because they couldn’t handle it emotionally

They played off their mental recovery time as time in the hospital

Daiya made Mondo promise not to get back on his motorcycle, much less the road, until he was 100% sure that he was prepared to handle it because what if there’s another freak accident that neither of them have control over

Mondo made Daiya promise the exact same thing because He Cares™️

Mondo has reoccurring nightmares about the crash and often sees Daiya dead in those nightmares

The gang shows up in the nightmares too and they’ve all been hit and it’s all Mondo’s fault and he couldn’t be a good leader because he wasn’t strong enough and why couldn’t he just be more like his brother god fucking dammit

Sometimes he sees Taka or Chihiro in place of Daiya and the Diamonds and that Absolutely Terrifies Him™️

Daiya has reoccurring thoughts about hijacking a truck to hit the driver who hurt him and his little brother

He wants them to feel all the same pain and more that they put the Diamond Brothers through

Daiya has breakdowns over this because even if he is a gang leader, he would not go that far

cue the Am I A Bad Person Complex™️

Mondo does not let himself stim

He doesn’t think it’s manly and it definitely doesn’t fit the Tough Guy™️ act

This leads to worsened focus and next thing you know he and Daiya are having a yelling match at home because if Mondo’s grades drop any lower he’ll be expelled soon and Daiya just wants the best for his brother but nothing works out the way it was planned

One time Mondo received a popsicle stick and paper heart from Taka

He was extremely happy

When he got back to his dorm he was that happy that he was shaking and then oh shit

Mondo broke it

He snapped the popsicle sticks in half

the note that Taka wrote,, it got ripped in the process

Mondo full on sobbed over this for an hour at the least

Like

Actual

Real

Tears

He broke something that Taka— not just his bf, but his best friend— had worked so hard on to make just for him and he fucking broke it like a shit for brains idiot

Mondo is terrified of hurting his friends

Because what if he forgets to take his adhd meds one day and his emotional dysregulation is all fucked up and he has an outburst again and actually hurts his friends

Or what if he takes 2+ doses by accident and focuses too hard and is left staring at one (1) spot and everyone hates him and what if they think he’s a creep

Mondo hates going out of his dorm at night because what if someone else is out and they have a flashlight and now they’re pointing it at him and it’s bright and those are headlights and that’s

that’s his brother

on the ground

not moving

Mondo will start shaking and he’ll break down hyperventilating or freeze on the spot

Either way, he hates being vulnerable

Whaddaya think? :D was that enough angst?

also can you tell that i kin Daiya on the dl bc i too got hit by a moving vehicle to save my young mer sibling from being hit /lh but also srs lmfo

HEY TINK??? HEY TINK????????

GodDAMN make me cry over this shit oKAY-

also sorry this took ✨forever✨ I had to gather my Thoughts™️ and my brain did not want to work today 😌

also before we get into my things, tw for trauma (obviously), unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking/drug relapse/smoking as a crutch, and suicidal ideation (passive, but still there)

First of all, y e a h oh my god?? There is literally so much internalized guilt for both of them,,,,,like they rlly do have episodes sometimes where they just. Play over the events of what lead up to the crash in their heads and fixate on what they could have done differently,,,,,even though in the moment they both did their best? Like “well, I shouldn’t have taken us down this street” or “if I had acted quicker, maybe it wouldn’t have happened” and.....yeah those thoughts really fuck with them, y’know?

and 100% that unexpected/overwhelming vehicle noises and/or presences are nearly debilitating. Honestly, I imagine that Mondo can’t go hang out with Leon and Taka or whoever else if said people are hanging out in Kaz’s workshop. Owada’s only ever been in there once and immediately had to leave when he heard Kazuichi starting an engine he was working on. Not to mention being surrounded by a shit ton of vehicles, even if they were idle, had kept him on-edge the entire thirty seconds he was able to handle it.

They both deal with a lot of phantom pain, as well. Like something triggers them and suddenly, even if they’re able to remain in the moment and keep conscious of their surroundings, they somehow feel every ache, every twinge of pain, every breaking bone, or bruised patch of skin that they felt on that day. It’s a lot more prominent in Daiya than it is with Mondo, but they do both experience it!

And neither one lets the other know when they’re feeling like shit or having an episode because 😌 Daiya. wants to be strong. for his little brother. and Mondo. sees his brother basically functioning like a typical person. and figures that there’s something wrong with him. because he can’t get over what happened.

Takemichi is absolute shit with Emotions and being vulnerable or getting people to open up to him, but he’s like..........internally these bitches are Not Okay what the fuck am I supposed to do about it???? So he kind of...tries to hint to both of them that he’s worried? Without making it obvious or embarrassing them, but he’s like.......fuck these assholes.......making me be the one to make them realize they need help goddamnit........

And michi exhibiting a change in behavior is pretty 👀 because. it’s michi I mean he’s not just gonna change the way he talks in front of u for nothing, u know? So both Daiya and Mondo are actually able to pick up on it, although their reactions differ pretty greatly.

Like Daiya’s first thought is “wow, he’s worried, that’s really sweet of him. Better convince him everything’s okay.”

Meanwhile Mondo’s is “wow, he’s worried. my stupid emotional turmoil is that obvious. he must think I’m some sorta fuckin idiot for not being able to get over it. or selfish. or both. yeah, probably both.”

Also I think Daiya’s pretty perceptive in general? Like he can Tell™️ that something’s going on with his brother, but........yeah emotional conversations....vulnerability......that’s rlly neither of their strong suits. + he also figures that if it were something mondo were really really really having trouble with, he would come talk to him!

And so Daiya has absolutely no concept of just how Not Good his brother is doing right now hbbvvvv

So he settles for being like “I’m just gonna stay strong and act like the memories and intrusive thoughts aren’t affecting me in any way because I want to be a good role model” (which. is not healthy obv)

oh g o d the nightmares

they are so horrible and vivid and concentrated at times that Mondo simply.....refuses to sleep. He’s exhausted, both mentally and physically, and yet he can’t bring himself to close his eyes because he knows what he’ll see if he does.

And of course it affects him to the point that his friends start to become worried. Like Taka notices a stark increase in tardiness or general absences, and, after an initial assumption that it was simply Mondo choosing not to care about his academics again, realized that there was probably a lot more going on than he realized. He really, really wanted to bring it up and let his boyfriend know that he’ll always be there for him no matter what, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to articulate it properly. The farthest he gets is with the question, “is everything okay?”

And as much as Mondo wants to respond to him by saying that no, in fact, everything is not okay, everything sucks and everything hurts and he’s tired and he hates himself and sometimes he wishes that the crash had killed him, but that’s selfish so he should shut up- he just.....can’t bring himself to open himself up like that. Yes, he and Ishi are dating, so logically he should be able to tell him all this, but.....it’s so much. It’s too much. Too much to think, too much to feel, let alone try to explain. So he shuts himself up with a quick, curt, “Yeah.”

And....Taka knows he’s lying. He’s not sure how he knows, but he does. And it hurts to see someone he loves so much in such a state of anguish, and basically be unable to do anything about it because....how is he supposed to respond? What is he supposed to say? Navigating everyday interaction is difficult enough without having to improv something that could affect his partner’s mental health indefinitely. So....he does his best. Which isn’t enough, really, but it’s something.

“You can tell me anything.”

Mondo wants to believe him.

—

Another side of that same coin is Mondo skipping class a lot more than is typical for him. It’s almost always with Leon, but he’s also begun slipping away on his own, occasionally, as well, now.

And....y’know, at first, Leon thought it was super rad that Owada and he were skipping more! Like it used to be that Kuwata would offer for them to miss the next class, and Mondo’s usual answer would be ‘not today,’ and then Leon would keep bugging him about it until Mondo either gave in or told him to fuck off.

But....there’s just something about how it went from Leon being constantly shut down, to being told yes around the first few times the idea was brought up, to how, suddenly, Kuwata wasn’t even the one asking, anymore. It’s....depressing? Uncomfortable?

There’s also the fact that hanging out while they’re cutting just....isn’t as fun as it used to be? Leon’ll crack jokes or come up with stupid dares, and Mondo’s responses will be noncommittal at best. And Leon’s had enough experience with sleep deprivation to know it in his friends when he sees it.

He’s never been put in this situation before - usually it’s kuwata having some sort of stupid episode and usually it’s owada who’ll tell him to chill the fuck out and think rationally about things, but....Mondo acts a lot different when he’s upset than Leon does. He smokes more. Cuts himself off from everyone. Doesn’t engage with anything.

It’s different with people like Toko, or Makoto, or Kaz, because Leon knows what they need. He knows whether or not they need vulnerability, or a physical presence, or tough love, or tactile grounding, or a willing ear or shoulder to cry on, but with Mondo......he just isn’t sure.

So Leon doesn’t comment.

——-

Chihiro’s probably the one to get him to open up about it ngl.

ANYWAY-

y e a h Daiya intrusive thoughts?????? fuck yeah???? absolutely??????

god yeah I rlly feel him on that ngl hbhdbdbdbbb

and MONDO DARLING 🥺

god okay it SUCKS because????? he doesn’t judge his friends for stimming????? Like he sees his friends fidgeting or repeating phrases or rocking back and forth and he’s like???? Hell yeah you go u funky kid ilysm

But when it comes to himself????? he’s like if I do anything aside from stay perfectly still, I’m weird and bad and a failure so I simply Will Not

he’s wrong but it doesn’t change the fact that he feels that way ❤️

hhhvhvvdd I’m also a slut for daiya doing his best as a makeshift parental figure,,,,,,,like fuck dude okay,,,,,,as an older sibling who also loves and cares about their younger sibs but often finds emotionally connecting with them to be difficult,,,,,,,,,mood??? And having all of that amplified by rlly being his younger bro's only support in his home life,,,,,,,like ok mr. owada go off

he feels a lot of pressure to get it right and make sure that Mondo's doing okay, so the grades really worry him. but, of course, grades are a touchy subject with mondo regardless, so as u said it devolves into arguments and yelling and a lot of defensiveness!!

and god okay,,,,,,,the heart rlly got me,,,,,,,like that hurt. it rlly hurt man okay damn

honestly??? I think that might be the thing that gets him to break. like that might be his final straw.

because when they meet up again, Ishi asks him about it and whether or not he liked it. And Mondo just.

fucking.

breaks.

down.

He’s shaking and he’s crying and there’s snot running down his nose and this is so ugly and so not manly but he can’t stop. he can’t stop. Because there is this sweet, gentle, kind, sweet, beautiful, darling, sweet man before him who did something so nice for him, something he didn’t deserve, and he destroyed it.

Like he destroys everything.

And so when Taka panics and asks him what’s wrong (yes Ishi gets worried that he did something bad and yes ishi also gets worried that his boyfriend didn’t like the present because hdbdvdvd kin 💛) owada just. spills everything. and he doesn’t even begin with the gift??? he starts with apologies upon apologies, many of them incoherent, and many of them with Mondo not even certain what he’s apologizing for, just that he knows he needs to

and ofc Taka is like o-o because wow ok

but after his initial shock, and after Mondo has thoroughly cried himself out and explained everything he could stand to explain at that point in time, Taka just......holds him. And strokes his face, brushing away the tears that have not yet dried, simply offering his body as a weight, as something for Mondo to ground himself with. And it works.

And Taka insists that Mondo has nothing to apologize for, only that he wishes Mondo would have told him what was going on sooner. Because he wants to help. And hearing that just gets Owada’s waterworks going all over again, but he’s still got Ishi there with him. He hasn’t scared him off.

And it’s more than enough.

—

and UGH yeah????? yes absolutely absolutely okay okay so,,,,,,,,mondo comorbid adhd/depression/anxiety

like sir 🤝

got me fucked up smh

honestly he’s probably not diagnosed with the depression or anxiety, either, until something like the incident with ishi prompts him to realize oh wow I’m not okay actually

so yes he 100% does???

he constantly has all of these what if situations swirling around in his brain about what might happen if he fucks up, or does something that he doesn’t qualify as fucking up in the moment, but leads to something awful or painful or harmful for someone else, and he’s just??????? g o d

[marrys-dream-world]

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter six)

Read on AO3

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Notes: I will finish this, I promise. Don't worry. Day six: clown. @ladynoirjuly

Chat Noir noticed right away that Ladybug was in a bad mood.

Considering the increasing burden of protecting the city from the now duos of Akumas and Sentimonster, plus the frustration of not getting anywhere particularly telling to find Hawk Moth with the help of the grimoire, it shouldn’t be a surprise. But his Bugaboo had been in high spirits in the last few days, Alya’s support and his own making a dent into the stress that was piling up on her. So when she showed up to an akuma fight all frowns and curt words, he did a double take. 

Caught up in his thoughts, he was nearly hit by a bunch of small, red balls, only dodging because Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped around his wrist and pulled him away.

“Thanks, my lady!” He grinned. “That was a nice je-”

“Not now, Chat Noir.” She snapped, with an angry flush to her cheeks. “We have to end this now. Lucky Charm!”

The smile dropped away from his face as red and black cotton candy fell on her hands, making her angrier, if possible. He could admit that he wasn’t very fond of this akuma, either. Not that he actually liked any, but some were easier than others. The Jester was proving themself to be a problem, though, with the weird ability to infinitely take off their clown nose and turn whoever it hit into a laughing mess that can’t do anything else. It looked right up his alley at first, puns making his tongue tingle, but since the akuma was too fast, he didn’t have the time he needed to quip. 

“Chat Noir!” He heard Ladybug calling and cursed himself for getting distracted again. When he looked over, she saw her throwing an object at him. “Cataclysm it!”

It was one of those plastic flowers that squirts water. “On it! Cataclysm!”

The flower came undone and the small black butterfly flew out, barely flapping it's wings before being capture by Ladybug's yo-yo. Uncharacteristically, she purified it quietly and sent it away. 

"Miraculous Ladybug!" She called out, releasing the healing lovely that shut down the hysterical laughter from the affected citizens on the streets. 

"W-what happened?" The plain-looking girl sitting on the ground stuttered. Chat Noir did a double take when he realized that it was the akuma victim.

"You were akumatized." He explained softly. "You were-"

"I-I don't really want to know, Mr. Noir." She said, cheeks flushed red. "Can you please get me down to the streets? I wanna go home."

"I can take you-"

"No, really, it's fine." The girl said, withdrawing into herself further. 

He sighed. "Okay, climb on my back."

She did just that, hiding her face against his neck. As soon as they were on the ground, she climbed down as fast as she could and stammered a "thank you" before running down the metro steps, leaving her now fixed joke flower in his hands. His heart hurt, he hated when the victims weren't even willingly to talk about their problems by the end, it was much harder to help that way. 

"Tough akuma, huh." Chat said when he arrived back at the top, Ladybug waiting with an annoyed expression. "Pound-"

"What were you thinking?!" His partner shouted and he took a step back.

"What are you talking about?"

"You almost got hit today just because you were joking around! I told to stop doing that, Chat Noir!" She snapped and he shrugged, trying to keep a nonchalant stance. 

"Couldn't let the akuma outshine the true comedian of the hour, huh."

"You can't let the akuma hit you just for a stupid joke!"

"It's not stupid, bugaboo. I know you love them, you already confessed." He cooed, pleased. 

She turned even redder, if possible. "Not all of them are funny! Some are just stupid!"

He started to laugh, before it quickly faded away. A memory came to mind, one which he tried to suppress because it haunted-

"It's not funny!"

"Yeah, I know." He supposed the muted tone of his voice was jarring enough, because Ladybug deflated. 

"... Chaton? Is everything okay?" She asked and, if it wasn't for the growing pit of regret growing in his stomach,  he would have found the fast change from annoyance to concern in her voice funny.

"Of course, why wouldn't it, my lady?" He tried a smile but her face didn't change. 

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"Smiling, but not really." At her words, the smile dropped from his face. "C'mon, you know you can tell me anything. Is it your dad again?"

"No, not right now." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just remembered that my jokes really aren't all that funny. A friend of mine would certainly agree with you."

She clicked her tongue. "I told you loads of times that you aren't funny sometimes, that can't be it."

"It's not that, it's just that I played a joke on this friend of mine and she didn't think it was funny. She cried, Ladybug. I felt awful and she did forgive me, but maybe I'm just not good with jokes at all." 

Marinette had been incredibly upset when he pretended to be a statue in front of her and he could see her hurt blue eyes as if she were standing in front of him. 

Ladybug frowned. "But she did forgive you, didn't she? Was the joke that bad?"

"Well, I didn't think so." He said, having spent tons of nights thinking about what exactly went wrong that day. "It was a simple prank, really, but she got really upset. Maybe she just doesn't like pranks."

Marinette had been extremely upset when she found the gum on her seat on the first day. Then again, it was because she thought it had been Chloé's doing. 

"Yeah, your friend could be a downer." His partner teased. He was acutely aware of her elbow nudging his arm.

"Nah, she's the best." He said fondly, thinking about Marinette's kind nature and bold personality. "I'm probably not that funny, really."

"If you say so." Ladybug said and he caught sight of a sour frown on her face.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's okay, really, my girlfriend didn't think I was funny either."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I think you're funny." She said firmly, seemingly unaware of what it did to his poor heart. 

"If my lady says so, it must be right." Chat grinned, elated. "Hey, did you feel that? Think it's going to rain?"

"What? I didn't feel-" Ladybug sputtered as water squirted on her face from the flower in a laughing Chat's hand. 

He waited for her to shout an angry "Chat!" and turn red, but she just stole the toy from his hands and aggressively squirted water on him, laughing when he hissed. It was a loud, beautiful laugh. 

He could listen to it for days.

[kiribaku-queen]

Unexpected [2/8]

Pairing: Dabi x reader, Hawks x reader, Touya x reader

Fluff, angst, AU

Tigger Warning: Alcohol consumption, 18+ scene (if you don’t want to read smut then read up to the line 😊)

Word count: 5.7K

A/N: So much love on the first chapter already???? I really don’t deserve it. Sorry for the late update! I was trying to work on the last scene and wanted to make it so good for you guys. Don’t come for me if its mediocre. I’m still learning on how to write those kinds of scenes! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist! 

Summary: Being quirkless wasn’t so bad. Especially when you had two badass best friends that had amazing quriks to make up for it. That is until one of them breaks your heart by disappearing in thin air. And the other breaks your heart by wanting to focus on his hero work. After coming back to Japan after studying abroad for 5 years, you were in for a whirlwind of surprises.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

You stared up at the man that saved you. Takami Keigo.

He had set you down safely, away from the fight, but didn’t glance at you a single time. Once he set you down, he was already rescuing another victim. He was fast. Flying to move others out of the way from falling debris. He even utilized his feathers to separate from his wings to do the same. Wow, where did he learn to do that? You were mesmerized by how swift and powerful he had become. But now wasn’t the time to daydream. You had to go to work. And now you were late.

Cursing in your head, you got up, dusted yourself off and continued on your way to work. But then you halted. You looked back at Keigo, watching him fight that villain. Maybe you should wait and thank him for saving you. He didn’t know he was saving you though. He didn’t look at you. He was just saving anyone he could at the moment. It would probably just be an awkward encounter anyway. You decided against it, but you couldn’t help but think about him, your heart racing just a bit.

You arrived at the school just in time. And that was all because you started running. You entered the teacher’s lounge where a meeting was about to begin. You sat down and greeted the other teachers around you before the principal of the school went to the front to start the meeting.

“Thank you all for being here so early. Let’s discuss today’s meeting. As you all know, it’s the first day of the term. Not very exciting but let’s still follow protocol.” The principal announced. Nods were seen coming from everyone, understanding that nothing new is happening. “But this year we are going to do something a little different. Every year, we have heroes come in to give speeches about their hero life and what students without quirks can contribute to hero society. This year, we are going to have that speech on the first day to give students more motivation to start the year off.” He explained. You nodded your head as well, fascinated that this is what they do in schools now. You jotted down some notes to save for later. The principal continued on with the meeting. Instructions seemed basic enough. Nothing too outrageous or out there. You were nervous for you first day for nothing.

“Before you all leave to your homeroom classes, let me introduce you to the heroes,” the principal gave the final announcement. All eyes turned to the door as a flood of heroes walked in and stood in the front besides the principal. A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ filled the room upon seeing how strong and intimidating they were. You also ogled at the pro-heroes in front of you. You could tell it was going to be an interesting first day. Before the principal could finish introducing all the heroes, the front door swung open, causing a loud noise to fill the room. Immediately, all eyes were back on the front door at whoever just barged in.

“Hawks, you’re late.” One of the other pro-heroes said in a disappointed, authoritative tone.

“Sorry captain. Villain fight, if you know what I mean,” he jokingly informed the other pro-hero in a sarcastic tone of voice. He laughed it off while the other heroes kind of just rolled their eyes. When he was finished with his little antics, Hawks looked at the audience and looked at each teacher in the eye.

“Hawks. Nice to meet everyone,” he introduced himself. When he got to you, his eyes froze. You refused to meet his eye and looked away for the rest of the meeting. But you could feel his stare on you.

“Alright, meeting dismissed. Teachers, you can go to your classrooms. I’ll send you your assigned heroes in a bit.” The principal gave the final word and dismissed everyone. You quickly gathered your materials and bolted out of there, actively avoiding a certain blonde hero.

You anxiously wait in your homeroom class. Not because you were nervous about meeting the kids for the first time, but because you were anxious about which hero was assigned to your class to guest speak. A knock could be heard on your door and you quickly open it. Blonde hair properly groomed to the side. His outfit was made out of jeans from hear to toe. With a sigh of relief, you let the hero in. It wasn’t Keigo. Now you could relax without all the nerves messing you up through the day.

 You rolled your head in circles and massaged you shoulders. Man, it was a long first day. Fun and exciting, but definitely long. After the heroes gave their speeches to the students, they immediately left to focus back on their hero work. Good, because that meant you didn’t have to run into Keigo accidentally. You sighed and packed up your bag, ready to relax back at your apartment. Before you could escape your workplace, a female coworker wrapped their arms around your shoulder.

“Hey newcomer. Leaving already?” she asks. You look behind your shoulder and gave a curt nod. She pouted at your lack of response. “Aw, too bad. Well, everyone’s going out for drinks and a bit of dancing. Wanna join?”

“Right now? It’s barely dark out,” you question their thought process and look outside the window. The sun was still bright in the sky. I guess the sun was about to set, but not for another hour or two. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” You mumbled to yourself. But your coworker heard you loud and clear. She was already smiling from ear to ear.

“Great! Let’s go!” she grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of there, right behind the rest of your coworkers.

“Ah, but, I’m still in my work clothes,” you stuttered and looked down at your outfit. You were dressed pretty nice for your first day, but still. Going out in your work clothes was just not it. You could already feel the stares of strangers looking at you weirdly.

“We all are! It’s a company dinner. No one’s going to say anything,” she reassured you. And she was right. Looks like this was a regular thing in Japan. There were several groups of people wearing business casual or business formal attire at the place you were drinking at. It was more like a club. There were private rooms for big crowds, as well as a bar, a dance floor and a DJ. An interesting setting but no one else seemed effected by the atmosphere. Everyone was taking shots or taking sips of their drinks, laughing and having a good time.

You got to play some drinking games with your coworkers and got to know them within a short period of time. Drinking, even just a little bit, just brings out the chatter box in you. You usually only drink enough to have fun, but you were having a great time. You forgot about today’s events and just started living in the moment. Some of the male coworkers sang their hearts out to karaoke. You were shocked and appalled that the principal was also joining in. But you were all having fun, where’s the harm in that?

At the bar, Hawks was ordering a whiskey on the rocks. He put his drink to his lips, slowly drinking it with his arms resting on the countertop looking over at the people on the dance floor. He doesn’t usually come out to the bars. It was once in a blue moon, maybe even rarer. He didn’t have time to mess around nor was he really interested in crowds like this. But he had to figure out how to get someone out of his head. You. He had to get you out of his head. Hawks was not prepared to see you today. He wasn’t expecting or anticipating it. Seeing you took him completely off guard. Hell, he didn’t even know you were back in Japan. Dammit. And if it wasn’t enough, you avoided him. You actively refused to look at him and fuck did that sting like a motherfucker. Ah well, at least you guys won’t be bumping into each other often. Or so he thought.

You were currently being dragged to the dance floor with a few of your female coworkers. All of you surrounded yourselves with each other and formed your own little circle. At first you were shy. You knew how to get down when you were overseas but you weren’t sure if Japan shared the same energy. When you felt comfortable and safe enough, you started swaying your hips to the music. Letting the music take over your body and let’s be honest, you also let the alcohol do the talking. Eventually, you were dancing like it was nobody’s business, dancing with all the ladies around you.

Hawks cocked an eyebrow as he saw you dancing. You looked different. You looked… more carefree. Independent. Confident. And he can safely say that you were very much attracting him. His eyes traveled your body as you swayed your hips to the beat and even swayed against the other women that were with you. You were teaching your coworkers a few moves you picked up at college in the States and god damn was it sexy to watch. The way your work skirt hugged your ass was already catching his eye. But he couldn’t look away when you started to move your ass up and down, twerking on one of your coworkers. That coworker was embarrassed but played along but you eventually laughed it off.

You were having so much fun letting loose. When you turned around with a wide smile on your lips, you spotted a winged blondie looking your way. Keigo. You couldn’t tell if your heart was racing from the alcohol or if it was from seeing your ex again. But a thought came to your mind. Maybe it was the alcohol. You smirked to yourself and started to dance sexier. Keigo broke your heart to become a hero and because you didn’t have a quirk. Well you were going to show Hawks what this quirkless teacher can do and what he’s been missing out on.

You made eye contact with said hero and moved your body in a way that would attract anyone’s attention. You moved your hands up and down your body as you rolled your hips, feeling yourself to the music. Hawks scoffed and admired the show you were giving him. In one shot, he down the whiskey in his cup and forcefully set it down on the counter behind him. His predatory eyes were on you and only you. Hawks made his way towards you but before he could get to you, another man was rubbing himself on you.

Amidst your dance, you felt a pair of rough hands grab your waist and tug you backwards so that your body was flushed against someone’s chest. A hot breath met your left ear, making you shudder in fear. You tried to push his hands off you but to no avail. That just made him tighten his grip.

“Come on, dance with my pretty lady,” he disgustingly whispered in your ear. Your coworkers didn’t notice anything yet since everyone was dancing in the moment. And it was hard to tell that someone was touching you since the dance floor was filled with people and flushed bodies were everywhere. You were in a predicament. You wanted to say something but before you could, his grip magically let go. Turning your head, you saw Hawks grabbing the stranger’s wrist in a death grip.

“This pretty lady doesn’t look like she wants to dance with you,” he commented, eyes looking unamused. The man groaned at how tight his grip was but tried to fight him back. By this time, Hawks was already squeezing his body between you two, so that the man couldn’t get to you.

“Fuck off man,” the stranger shouted, swinging his free hand to aim at Hawks’ face. But Hawks was already one step ahead of him. He easily caught the man’s fist. But it made Hawks more furious. He spread his wings wide as a warning, scaring you, the pervert and everyone around you. He was careful enough to not hit anyone but it was still intimidating. This scared the man and he finally fled, going straight to the exit. When he deemed it was safe enough, he let his wings go back to their resting position. Taking a big, deep breath out, he turned to face you. You, still shocked, looked up at him. You both just stared at each other and everyone around you continued doing them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern written all over his face.

“Mm,” you hummed, looking down in embarrassment. “Thanks…” Your mood was ruined now. All because of some horny guy you couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“You don’t look it,” Hawks commented, sensing your change of mood. You were grateful for what he did, of course. But now was not the time. You felt upset and violated that you just wanted to go home now.

“Look, Kei- ah, Hawks. I’ll be fine. Excuse me,” you excused yourself from his presence and approached one of your coworkers.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home now!” you told her, yelling loud enough so that she could hear. You could see the disappointment in her face but didn’t stop you. She acknowledged you and then went back to having fun. Giving one last look of appreciation to the hero of the night, you made your way out the door and into the cool, night air.

 Chills ran down your spine. You were not expecting it to be this cold out. And what’s worse, your head was still foggy from drinking so much at the bar. A sigh left your lips as you tried to pay attention and just focus on getting home. Once you got home, then could you finally relax and re-energize for work. And you could do that once you got a little birdie off your shoulder. You stopped in your tracks and sighed.

“Are you really following me?” you asked aloud. If there were passersby, they would think you were crazy for talking to yourself. Hawks came down from a nearby building, landing right in front of you with a sheepish smile on his face.

“You knew?”

“It was hard not to when I could hear to flapping your wings this whole time,” you explained. You put your hands on your hips in a disapproving manner. “Go home. I can walk by myself.” Hawks cleared his throat and straightened up, his wings moving along with him. Wow, they were bigger than you remember.

“Heroes have to make sure that the citizens stay safe from danger. You drank. And you’re walking alone in the middle of the night. I was just making sure you got home safe. You know, cause that’s my job. As a hero.” God, he was so awkward.

“Got it. Well if you want to walk me home, you’re gonna have to exchange it for your jacket,” you said, pointing to the brown jacket that he was wearing. You already knew Hawks wasn’t going to leave you alone, no matter how many times you tell him that you’re okay. So you took advantage of this opportunity to at least get some warmth on the way. Hawks smirked and handed you his jacket with no hesitation. And so you began to walk back to your apartment together.

Silence. Dead silence between you two. It was so awkward. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything so that you could walk home in peace. But it was too late to think about that because now you were in this situation. Should you say something? What do you even say? What do you even talk about? Oh, how’s life after breaking my heart in high school? Please… that was 5 years ago. You couldn’t believe you were still salty about it. Believe it or not, Hawks was thinking the same thing. He didn’t know what to bring up. Does he bring up the past? Or does he bring up what he saw at the club? There was no point in asking ice breaker questions. Shit, so what does he bring up? And so you continued to walk in silence until you finally reached you apartment. You spun around and handed Hawks his jacket back.

“Thanks for the escort back. And… thanks for what happened back there,” you thanks him, embarrassed that that even happened.

“Always a pleasure,” he responded. Awkward silence. You bit the inside of your cheek. Man, this was really killing you.

“Well, good night,” you bid your farewell. Opening your door, you enter your apartment and was about to close the door when Hawks stuck his foot out to prevent you from closing it all the way. You open your door back up and look at him with a questioning look.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Oh,” that took you by surprise. “About what?” Hawks was hesitant to say.

“Us?” he asks like even he is questioning his decision.

“What’s there to talk about? It was a while ago and-”

“I know. I know but… I feel like I should apologize and explain for um, what happened so,” he said. It took a lot for him to swallow his pride but he had to do this. He had to make this right. It took you a second to process his request because you were not expecting that at all. You had two choices: either leave it alone and let the past be the past or clear up the ‘misunderstandings’ between you two? Well, it couldn’t hurt to choose the latter. You moved your body to the side and opened the door wider.

“Come on in, it’s cold.” You offered and Hawks gladly accepted.

He sat on your couch while you quickly went to make him a hot cup of tea. You set the tea on the coffee table in front of him and sat next to him, putting a throw pillow on your lap. You looked at him, waiting for him to start first. Hawks took a deep breath and faced you.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he confessed, giving a small laugh. You shifted in your seat, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Mmm, I guess… why did you break up with me?” you asked, not having the confidence to look at him anymore. You were opening up old wounds and started to feel some type of way.

“I didn’t want to break up with you, y’know? But when I thought about the future and aspired to be this great hero, I knew that you were going to have a difficult time. You were going to be hurt either way, so I guess. I don’t know. Decided to end it early before it got to that point?”

“And so you decided to be an ass to me?” you looked at him annoyed now. No matter what his reasons were, valid or not, his behavior was inexcusable to you.

“I’m sorry. I thought that if I treated you that way then you’d have an easier time moving on.”

“That’s the most cliché thing ever,” you pouted angrily, playing with the ends of the pillow. If he would have talked to you, then maybe you guys could have come to a compromise or met in the middle. Only if he would have talked and listened to you then this probably wouldn’t have happened. Dumb Keigo. Always trying to think about others but hurting them in the process. You couldn’t help but feel angry at his explanation. So much to the point where you were blinking the tears away. Hawks was staring at you this whole time and noticed the tears in your eyes and how you were trying to hard for them not to fall. When a single tear did finally escape, he cupped your cheek, rubbing the tear away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he apologized, barely above a whisper. You put your hand over his and looked up into his eyes. He must have moved closer to you because his face was just inches from yours.

“I’m fine. I kinda got over it a while ago,” you said, matching how soft his voice was.

“Let me make it up to you.” He suggested.

“How are you going to do that?” you looked up at him. His eyes could be seen wandering down the features of your face, landing on your lips that were slightly parted. He chuckled and he continued to stare at your lips.

“I mean, I know one way.” Then he looked back at your eyes. “If you’d let me.” He was asking permission. His eyes were more seductive and his voice went an octave lower. And it was turning you on. Hawks saw in your eyes that you were feeling the same way yet you didn’t say anything. He took this opportunity to slowly lean into you, ready to back away if you gave a signal. But you didn’t move. The closer he got, the lowers your lids got. By the time your eyes were fully closer, his lips met yours in a soft kiss. Not too light but not too forceful either. It was nice. He pulled away just barely. You could feel his breath on yours still as he broke away from the kiss. There was a pause. He was waiting for you to maybe back away or smack him but it never came. Taking that as a good sign, he went back in for another kiss, you kissing him back just as hard.

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

The kiss between you started out innocent and loving. But got hungrier and needier by the second. You attacked his lips like your life dependent on it. Hawks was leaning more into you, both arms on either side of you entrapping you between the couch and him. One hand gripped on his forearm and the other laid on top of his chest. Your nails softly and slowly raked his chest, causing a reaction out of him, nipping at your lower lip. Hawks was getting frustrated at the lack of contact because of the pillow that was still in your lap.

“Let’s get rid of this,” he quickly said, taking the pillow and throwing it aimlessly across the room. You giggled by how aggressive and eager he was to get it out of the way. But you couldn’t even bare to have his lips leave yours, even for that quick second. Your hands cupped his face, brining him closer, afraid that if you let go he could disappear, and kissed him again. Hawks smirked into the kiss, pressing his body on yours. The bulge in his pants prominent as his hips met yours. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his hard on press firmly onto your clit. Hawks took his opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. His wet muscle fought yours for dominance and explored every part of your mouth. Sucking, licking, pulling. Hawks couldn’t get enough. And he wanted more.

He detached his mouth from yours, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongues together. And went straight to attacking your neck. He wasted no time in leaving marks all over you neck, shoulder and chest. He sucked on the sensitive skin, biting it from time to time. It was painful but fuck did it feel so good. When he was done with one hickey, he licked it to ease the pain a bit but then immediately went to make another one. You probably should have stopped him because you didn’t want your coworkers or your boss to see them. But you didn’t want him to stop.

Your hands got tangled within his blonde locks while Hawks was grabbing hold of your waist, his hands impressively untucking your shirt to show a little bit of skin. You moan which causes him to growl in satisfaction. Oh god that was so sexy. The growl in his voice sent shock waves straight to your pussy. You were getting wetter and wetter by the second. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing and that was soon to change. God, how you wanted more of him right now. Grabbing his face, you brough him in for another dominating kiss. Hawks removed his hands from your waist and moved it to your thighs. Your skirt riding up nice and easy for him. He grabbed your thigh, forcefully hooking your leg to wrap around his waist to get better access to your ass.

He’s squeezing your ass, definitely leaving bruises to be found the next morning. And as much as he loved the taste of your lips, right now, he wanted to go back to attacking your sensitive neck. And that’s what he did. Your breathing became uneasy and turned into deep pants. Was it getting hotter in here? Because your body was growing hotter by the second. Luckily, Hawks was always one step ahead. His hands started to unbutton your white blouse. When it got halfway, he just takes both sides of your blouse and rips it open impatiently. It was taking too long and he was too needy to wait.

“Keigo,” you whined, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said in a rush. Because he wasted no time in cupping your breasts, admiring the black laced bra you wore. As if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, he devoured your breasts in his mouth. He buried his face, sucking and leaving marks on the mounds of your breasts. He could spend a good time there because fuck, your tits were so perfect. You moaned as you felt the bulge on his pants grow even bigger. That wasn’t helping the friction you needed oh so badly down there. You tried lifting your hips to make contact with his boner but he had to strapped down so you could barely move.

“Keigo,” you cooed his name. “I want more.” You pleaded. He let go of one of your breasts with a loud pop and shushes you.

“Patience little birdie. I promise I’ll make you feel good,” he promises. He continues to massage your breasts, peppering kisses all over your cleavage.

Finally giving you what you want, his hand reaches lower until its right above your clit. You moan in pleasure as he teases your clit with his middle finger. One long stride going from your clit all the way down to your dripping core.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, moving your panties to the side to reveal your dripping pussy. Hawks uses his middle finger to gather your juices and gently enters it in you. “Shit, look at that. I didn’t even need to prep you. Your pussy just took in my finger so well.” His mouth was watering watching you completely take his fingers with ease. But it was only one finger. Slowly, he added another finger and then another. Hawks was careful to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you. So every time he entered another finger, he would glance up and see if your facial expression changed. When you had adjusted to all three fingers in you, Hawks moved his fingers slowly. Pumping his fingers in an agonizingly slow pace, making sure he felt every inch of your walls. It was driving you mad. His fingers were finally in you but you were still craving more.

In an attempt to make him go faster, you used your free hand to grab the bulge in his pants. In the same agonizing pace he was going, you stroked his cock up and down through his pants. Hawks bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from moaning from your touch, but you heard it. He groaned, his voice vibrating from deep within his throat. But that seemed to do the trick. The faster he fingered you, the faster you pumped his cock. Moans were coming out of your mouth nonstop. His fingers kept hitting the perfect spot. And it didn’t help that he curled his fingers to add to the effect. Your head was in a daze, feeling your first orgasm coming. Your grip on his cock was softening because you were in such a euphoric state to continue. The moans coming out of your mouth became silent as the orgasm washed over you, your legs trembling. Hawks could feel you clench hard around his fingers, but he wasn’t stopping. He was going to help you ride it out until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

You were coming down from you high and now you were craving one thing. You needed his dick in your mouth. This time, you took the initiative. You pushed his shoulders back so that he was comfortably sitting back on the couch. You kneeled in front of him, already unbuckling his belt. While you were busy taking his pants off, Hawks got rid of the rest of his clothing and threw it somewhere around the room.

You got his pants down to his ankles and revealed his thick, throbbing cock. Precum was already dribbling on the side. Gripping his cock with one hand, you teased him by leaving one long lick, collecting the precum on your tongue. Several curses were being thrown by the winged man but you wanted to keep teasing him. You licked the tip of his dick where more precum was oozing out. Then you wrapped your lips fully around the tip, but just the tip. You pulled up, kissing the tip which made Hawks go crazy. His head was thrown back and his hands were gripping his hair. Seeing that view, you think you did enough teasing to him. Liking your lips in anticipation, you sunk your mouth all the way down his length.

“(y/n)!!!” Hawks screamed your name. His hands instinctively went straight to your hair. You were expecting him to push down on you to take as much of him in your mouth as you can but it didn’t come. Instead, he gathered all your hair in one hand, holding it up for you. But his grip was strong enough to leave pleasure running down your spine. You looked up to see him already eyeing you and how full your mouth was with his dick and his dick alone. Drool was coming down the side of your mouth. At that sight, Hawks’ mouth was left agape.

“Look at that pretty mouth,” he complimented you. If you could smile, you would. But your mouth was already full, preventing you from doing so. So, you hummed in response. The vibrations of your mouth sent Hawks over the edge and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, come here,” he takes you off his dick and before you know it, you were straddling his waist, being lifted into the air. “Where’s your room?” he breathed.

“Down the hall to the left,” you breathed back. Your lips connected to one another once again. He carries you down the hall, kicks open your door and throws you on the bed. Before you could process what was happening, Hawks was spreading your legs wide open. He completely removed your panties and your skirt so that your glistening pussy was open and ready for him. He pinned your legs down so you couldn’t squirm around or close your legs shut. Taking one big whiff of your essence, blush rushed to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but cover your face at such an embarrassing act.

“Come on little birdie. Why are you covering your face,” he teased, his lips lightly brushing against your folds.

“I’m embarrassed…”  you admitted. Hawks smirked and made you uncover your face.

“Don’t be. I wanna see your face scrunch up in pleasure when I eat you out,” he said. As soon as he finished that statement, he was devouring your pussy like there was no tomorrow. He slurped up all your flowing juices. Tongue exploring every part of you, leaving no place untouched. The noise that he was making was so sinful. But it turned you on even more. It wasn’t long before he could control himself. He gave you one last lick and then spit on your pussy as a parting gift.

He pumped his cock a few times before lining it in front of your entrance. Slowly, he sinks his cock into you, causing you both to moan in sync. Hawks takes is slow at first. Fully taking his cock out and filling you back up again. Then, out of nowhere, he’s ramming his cock in you, going at an impressive speed. Moans filled the room. They were so loud, you were certain that your neighbors could hear every tune coming out of your mouth.

“Fuck. So tight,” he grunts. Staying the same position, he puts your legs together and hugs them, gaining better access. His cock reaches deeper than before in this position. He hits that sweet spot that makes you roll your eyes back and made your back arch.

“Oh god, r-right there! Please fuck me right there!” you beg, already feeling another orgasm coming. He obeys, hitting the same spot over and over again until you’re seeing stars. Your pussy clenches so tight around his member that that was the last straw. He pulls out and is soon cumming all over your chest and stomach. Both of you are a panting, sweaty mess. While you were both coming down from your high, Hawks leans over and bumps your foreheads together. You take that moment to just be in each other’s presence.

“Um, Keigo?” you call out his name. He snaps his eyes to you. “I’m sticky.” You inform him. Immediately, he gets up from the bed in a panic.

“Oh shit shit shit shit,” he kept repeating and runs to find the bathroom. When he comes back, he has a wet towel in hand to clean up the mess he made on you. He throws the towel in the dirty laundry basket that was by your door and lays down next to you on the bed.

“That was-” he starts.

“yeah…” you finish. There was no deny that that quick sex session was absolutely amazing. And there were absolutely no words to describe how good it felt. You both looked at each other and laughed, cuddling closer together.

“Can I stay the night?” he asks. His hand moves the hair out of your face and then cups your cheek.

“Yes please.”

Tagged: @ditu-m9 @snuckerfrcnicken @flowersgirl02 @bestgirlkonan

[ninzied]

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

for @fulloffeels.

kastle roommate au. 2.5k.

Living with Karen is one of the best, worst things he’s ever done.

He’d thought she was joking, when she first suggested it.

“Your landlord won’t stop raising your rent, and this way you’ll be closer to work.” She said it like it was a no-brainer. “Besides, you spend half your time stealing the beer at my place anyway,” and as she sipped on her drink Curtis gave Frank a look, eyebrows nearly shooting clean off his forehead.

Frank scowled at him before saying to Karen, “I appreciate that, but I wouldn’t want to, ah, disrupt your—you know—”

“Riveting social life?” Karen said archly, glancing around with a pointed expression. Even for a Thursday night, Josie’s didn’t have much going on. “Please. If anything, you’re so allergic to human contact that your social life will only make me feel better about mine.”

Frank shook his head with a laugh. “You’re really selling it now.”

“Great,” said Karen. “What does next week look like for you?”

Which is how Frank finds himself moving into Karen’s two-bedroom, 800 square foot loft, a steal by New York standards, sharing a bathroom, and making them coffee and eggs in the morning.

“Think I’m starting to get the real reason you keep me around,” he tells her, stirring in the cream and sugar just the way she likes it.

“Mm. I definitely got the better end of the deal,” she agrees, sipping, and smiling, and kissing his cheek before going about the rest of her day.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

And it’s—surprisingly easy, at first.

A lot of it is in fact not so different from what he’s already used to.

Karen’s never been fussy about how she looks in front of her guy friends, always changing into sweats first thing after getting home from work, washing her face clean of makeup, cracking open a cold can of beer. A typical evening still gets spent arguing over the merits of reality TV—or, when Karen’s bogged down by work, he’ll read through articles she’s drafted up, and talk through court cases with her.

“Are you sure you’re a former Marine?” she shakes her head at him on occasion. “Sometimes I think you must have been a criminal mastermind in a past life.”

“Yeah?” He tosses a couch cushion at her. “Next time you need my help, why don’t you go ask those two lawyer friends of yours instead.”

“They’re not as cute when they get flustered,” Karen shrugs, with a perfectly straight face as Frank scrubs a hand over the back of his head and mumbles something about getting another drink from the kitchen.

Frank doesn’t let her order takeout as much as she’s probably used to, but she doesn’t complain either, every time he cooks for them—only teasing him a little for wearing an apron, and flicking water at him when he points out the soap suds in her hair.

It’s easy. Almost too easy, how everything just falls into place, how living with Karen comes so naturally to him. Like it’s something he was always meant to do.

And then she starts seeing someone.

Frank tries not to notice the small signs.

The extra minutes she spends getting ready in the bathroom. The subtle dab of gloss on her lips, the rosy glow to her cheeks. The late evenings out. The way she’s always checking her phone, how her thoughts drift off mid-conversation with him.

She goes on a couple of dates with this guy. She doesn’t bring him home with her, at least, and she hasn’t spent the night at his place. Frank doesn’t know much about him at all. She tells him very little, and he tries not to pry—he doesn’t want to be that cliché who only knows what he has once he’s lost it.

Not that Karen was ever his to begin with.

After the third date—not that Frank is keeping track—she comes home earlier than usual. He tries not to think anything of it. It’s a weeknight, and they’re both always up before dawn for work.

Frank’s on the couch, nursing a beer as she toes off her heels and flops down beside him.

“You look nice,” he says, gaze not leaving the screen.

She sounds amused when she replies. “How can you tell? You look like your eyes haven’t left Regis Philbin’s all night.”

“You always look nice,” says Frank, the words out of his mouth before he can stop them. He clears his throat. “So, uh. How are you?”

Karen hums thoughtfully. “Now that’s the million dollar question.”

He finally glances sidelong at her. “Date not go well?”

She looks at him for a moment, and he can’t read the expression on her face. “Date went fine,” she says.

“That’s good.” He nods, then looks back at the TV. He stares at the screen without really seeing it. “That’s good.”

He takes another sip of his beer.

“Do we have any more of those?” she asks him, nudging her foot against his leg.

“Yeah. Hang on.” He hands her the remote and heads to the fridge.

The screen’s still on Regis when he gets back, handing her an open bottle.

“I don’t think this guy’s going to make it,” says Karen. The contestant is currently sweating it out over 32 thousand. He’s already used up two of his lifelines.”

“Think you’re right about that,” says Frank.

…

“So, have you kissed her yet?”

Frank goes still, his fork freezing halfway up to his mouth. “How’s that?”

“C’mon, honey. I told you. Look at him.” David’s talking about him like he’s not even there. “Does he strike you as a guy who’s been kissing anyone recently, let alone Karen?”

Frank raises a brow, lowering his fork to his plate. “You want to run that by me again?”

“Well have you?” asks David, and at Frank’s unresponsiveness he shrugs and says, “I rest my case.”

Frank spears up a small buttered potato, imagining it with David’s face for a moment. “Karen and I are just friends,” he tells them. “Living with her doesn’t change that. Besides, she’s—she’s seeing someone.”

“Since when have you let that stop you before?” David wants to know, wincing good-naturedly when Sarah cuffs him on the shoulder.

“For the last time,” she says. “It was just one kiss, we were in college, and you and I were on a break.”

David opens his mouth to argue, but Sarah’s already moved on.

“I didn’t realize Karen was seeing anyone.” Sarah wrinkles her nose. “She hasn’t mentioned it.” She looks back over at David. “Did she say something to you?”

“Of course,” says David, “because Karen and I like to gossip about our love lives with each other.”

Sarah reaches across the table and squeezes Frank’s arm sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” she says. “We just want you to be happy. Maybe if you told her how you felt—”

“It’s not like that,” says Frank.

But judging by the look the Liebermans exchange with each other, they aren’t any more convinced than Frank is on the matter.

“Well if that’s the case,” says David, with a triumphant little side-eye at his wife, “then I guess it won’t be too insensitive of me to point out that you lost our bet?”

“Unbelievable,” mutters Frank. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you two?”

…

It’s three months into their living arrangement, and three Fridays after Karen’s started falling off the face of the earth, when it happens.

He’s been out for drinks with Curt, trying not to think too hard about what Karen had been wearing when she left on her date, whether she’ll be home by the time he gets back, if this is going to be the night he doesn’t see her again until morning.

Shit. The Liebermans were right.

And if the look Curt’s giving him is anything to go by, he’s known all along, too.

“How you holding up?” he asks, even more delicately than usual.

Frank snorts, shakes his head. “Lieberman told you, didn’t he.”

“He might’ve said something,” says Curt, sounding almost apologetic about it. “Do you know anything about the guy she’s seeing? It’s not the lawyer she used to date, is it?”

“Nah.” Frank downs the rest of his beer, gesturing at the bartender for another. “I think she would’ve told me if it was.”

“Still,” says Curtis. “Doesn’t seem like her to be this secretive about it, does it?”

“No. You’re right.” Frank stares into his empty glass. The alternative, though, is—what? Does Karen know, too? All this time, and the tip-toeing around—was it all just her way to spare him and his feelings?

The last thing he wanted, when he moved in with her, was to make her feel like she had to hide any part of her life from him.

He thinks over what he wants to tell her as he’s walking home from the subway an hour later. “Karen,” he mutters under his breath. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay, I’m—I’m not gonna stand in the way of whoever it is that's making you happy.”

His chest is uncomfortably tight by the time he’s inserting the key in the lock. It only occurs to him then that she might not even be home; it’s barely nine, and it’s their fifth date at this point. If the guy she’s seeing hasn’t put the moves on her by now—

But the lights are on as he closes the door, the TV playing at low volume. There’s a cooking show that Karen doesn’t normally watch, unless he’s at home and has managed to wrangle the remote from her.

He walks further into the apartment, something lightening in his step. He pivots a corner out of the hallway, and his shoe crunches down on the unmistakable sound of glass.

He lifts his gaze, takes in the kitchen with the sense of one who’s not actually there—his vision swims, and it feels so surreal, like it’s not really his body that’s moving. Stepping over the glass. Picking up the bloodied knife on the cutting board. There’s another glass, this one intact, sitting innocently on the counter next to half a lime and a bottle of tequila.

Everything is spattered with blood.

Karen.

He swallows back bile, hands clenching into fists. She has to be okay. She has to—

“Frank? Is that you?” Karen’s voice is coming from the bathroom, and it breaks through his reverie. The knife clatters back onto the counter. He hadn’t realized he’d still been holding it.

He’s at the bathroom door in two seconds. “Where is he?” he thunders, in a voice he hardly recognizes as his own. “He hurt you? He do this to you?”

Karen stares over at him from her place by the sink. She’s holding a towel to her hand, and the basin is spotted bright red with blood. “What? Who?”

Frank’s not more than a couple inches taller than Karen, but his terror makes everything else look small, and he’s all but towering above her, gaze roaming all over to assess her for any obvious injuries.

It takes him a moment to recognize the shirt that she’s wearing.

“Sorry,” she says unnecessarily, tugging a little on the hemline. “It was the first thing I grabbed out of the laundry when I got home.” His shirt falls just short of her knees, and underneath that she’s all long, bare legs. But he doesn’t let himself stop to think about what any of this means to him, because it’s not the thing that matters right now.

“I’ll kill him,” he says. “I didn’t need to know who he was before, but now I think I need to kill him.”

“Frank,” she says slowly. “It’s okay. It was me.” She uncovers her hand and shows him a cut along the edge of her thumb. It’s long, but not terribly deep, and it looks like it’s stopped bleeding for now.

He doesn’t realize he’s reached for her until her other hand closes around his.

“But he was here.” Frank looks up, brow knitting in the middle. “I saw the other glass. I thought—”

Karen flushes. “That was supposed to be for you. Curtis texted me when you were leaving the bar, and I, um. I thought I’d—” Frank goes on staring at her, and she lets out a small sigh. “We should probably talk.”

…

He brings her tea, and a first aid kit for her hand. She props her feet up on the coffee table, leaning back into the couch and watching him quietly as he cleans around the wound and carefully bandages it up.

“Might not ever let you back into your kitchen again.” He winds some more gauze around her thumb.

“Does it look like I’m complaining?” says Karen.

He’s turned into her, knees ending up under her legs as he works, but she doesn’t move away from him, and doesn’t let go of his hand when he’s finished.

“So, don’t be upset,” she starts by telling him, and he looks up at her then, jaw tensed, bracing. “But I’ve…been meeting with an informant.”

He stares at her, not comprehending.

“You’re not—?”

Karen shakes her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want to lie to you, Frank, but I didn’t want to worry you either.” She laughs, looking rueful. “Which I guess I managed to do just fine anyway.”

Frank swallows, and has some difficulty looking her in the eye when he says, “You always seemed like you were…you know. On your way to do something else.”

“I figured it would seem less suspicious.” She bites her lip. “And…I would really be lying if I said the thought of trying to make you jealous didn’t cross my mind.”

Frank takes a deep breath. “That obvious, huh.”

“Yeah.” But the smile she gives him is gently teasing, and then she’s the one glancing down at their hands, their fingers curled loosely together. “I’ve, um. I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I don’t notice.”

“I’m always lookin’ at you,” he replies, and it’s as much a confession to her as it is to himself. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” she says, softly enough that he could’ve imagined it. But he doesn’t imagine the way that she leans closer, until their foreheads are almost touching, and the way she’s looking at him couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, either. “No. I don’t.”

…

The following Friday, they’re walking into Josie’s hand in hand.

“The usual?” asks Karen, laughing as he snakes a hand around her waist, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you over there.”

His friends are a combination of smug and astonished as Frank walks up to their table.

“Hey,” is all he says, and sits down.

Sarah takes a calm sip of her drink. She lasts there for about three more seconds before excusing herself and heading briskly off toward the bar where Karen is standing, beaming at Frank as she goes.

“If you’ve got something to say,” sighs Frank, “feel free to get it done with now.”

“All right,” says Curt, and then he’s turning to David, both of them grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like the next round is on you.”

[ricksbowen]

simply, utterly | pt. 3

IN WHICH: the tension finally snaps between y/n and ricky, but it gets a little out of hand.

INSPIRATION: start of something new — high school musical, more than a woman — the bee gees

WARNING: there’s making out. is that even a warning?

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7

“Do you remember in kindergarten how you’d meet a kid and know nothing about them, then seconds later you’re playing like you’re best friends because you didn’t have to be anything but yourself?”

You looked up from your script, ignoring the way the eyes of the rest of the cast stayed on you and Ricky. Everyone was watching, and you tried not to seem uncomfortable at the thought that Nini Salazar-Roberts, Ricky’s ex, and your own brother was watching you act as if Ricky was your dream guy. You were trying to keep your face sincere, fitting into the scene as you imagined someone — anyone — else as Ricky.

“Yeah,” Ricky stepped closer, looking at you with the same expression. It had been a week since the agreement, and to say that it was easy would be a lie. Keeping his sarcastic comments about you to himself was harder than he thought. But as he stood with you, chests almost touching, the same old smirk crept up onto his face, and a blush dusted over your cheeks.

“Singing with you felt like that,” you responded, words coming out more curt and rude than what was expected of you.

Coughing to diffuse the tension, Miss Jenn offered you and Ricky an ecstatic smile. “Wonderful! Go over the script a few more times, maybe even hang out,” she wiggled her brows to the both of you, your nose scrunching at the idea. “We need to sell this! We need the Gabriella and Troy to pop out from the both of you!”

With that, rehearsals were over.

“You know, we never played like best friends back in kindergarten,” Ricky commented, following you as you walked to where all your things were piled up.

“That’s because you decided to cut my hair instead,” you retorted, rolling your eyes as you threw your backpack over your shoulder. You turned to Ricky, giving him a look up and down. “Why’re you talking to me?” you asked, actual curiosity hidden behind annoyance. He didn’t need to be civil with you after rehearsals; hell, he didn’t even need to talk to you, yet here he was, starting up a conversation.

“Well, Miss Jenn did say that we had to sell it,” Ricky said, shrugging nonchalantly as he played it off. “So I thought we could talk more—“

“That’s never a good idea,” you said blatantly, giving Ricky a look that screamed, ‘Did you really think it would work?’ before walking away.

Ricky hid his slight disappointment behind a smirk and a roll of his eyes.

Much to your disappointment, you heard sneakers squeak against the floor follow you.

“Fuck off, Bowen, I’m not gonna try and — Oh. It’s you.” Your angry expression dropped when you saw Ej and Ashlyn next to you rather than Ricky, Ashlyn’s face showing pure amusement.

“I think I know why Miss Jenn chose you and Ricky,” Ashlyn stated, and you could already make out the teasing tone in her voice. “I’m not gonna lie: I wouldn’t be surprised if you two started making out out of nowhere.”

“Jesus— Ash!” You groaned, trying to block out her laugh. You could see a frown appear on Ej’s face at her words, his obvious dislike towards the idea of you and Ricky being together obvious.

“I’m just saying!” Ashlyn protested, nudging your shoulder. “I mean, it probably won’t happen anytime soon, but c’mon; everyone sees it.” She glanced down at you, her grin widening at the total bitch face that was plastered on your features.

“It’s only gonna be a few more weeks, then showtime. After that, you can go back to whatever relationship you two had,” Ej stated, obviously uncomfortable at the topic. He didn’t want to imagine Ricky Bowen and his sister together.

“That’s the plan.” The three of you walked down the empty hall, comfortable silence enveloping you all. One of your hands gripped a strap of your backpack while the other was holding your script. You looked down at the script in your hand, biting your bottom lip in thought as you read it. “Hey, can you pick me up later?”

“Later?” Ej looked at you with a slight frown.

“Why later?” Ashlyn questioned, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively at your words.

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “I need to practice these songs. I kinda forgot to.” You looked up at your brother, already seeing the hesitancy on his face. Jokingly, you jutted your bottom lip out ( a move you learned as a small child ). “Please?”

“Y/N—“

“I’m not gonna go off and do drugs, Ej,” you said with a small smile, the smile growing when you saw him roll his eyes. “I just need to practice something. It’s for the musical, I promise,” you reassured, slowly walking backward from him and Ashlyn.

“Fine.” Ej sighed. “Just call when you need me to pick you up,” he glanced down at his phone, shrugging his shoulders to himself. “Looks like I’m inviting Nini to fro-yo and not you.”

“Rude— you’re not gonna invite me?” Ashlyn asked, cocking a brow at her cousin.

“Nope.”

“You both do you! Love you both!” You ran back down the hall, hearing Ej’s faint, ‘love you more!’ from behind you. You slowed to a walk, making a beeline for the stage doors and peeking inside.

No one. Perfect.

Your shoes echoed around you as you made your way to the piano that Ashlyn usually claimed. You needed practice on the songs ( you procrastinated on remembering them, and while you used to know them by heart, it had been years since your High School Musical phase ). You set your bag down next to the piano bench, sitting down on it and letting out a huff.

You had no piano at home. Only your guitar.

You searched on your phone quickly, bringing out the lyrics to the song you had in mind. You placed your fingers on the keys, letting out a breath before playing. You learned the song in your odd High School Musical phase: The Start of Something New. One of the duets you had to remember and sing alongside Ricky. The beginning was Troy’s part, but that never stopped anyone.

You’ve been singing the song alone for years. You pressed the keys, testing the waters, and played the beginning over and over again to see if you still remembered. You did ( surprisingly ).

Ricky didn’t know why he was still here. Everyone left ages ago, yet he still found himself roaming the school. He didn’t want to go home; not with everything that was happening in his life.

He roamed the halls aimlessly, scrolling through his phone. He passed the art hall, not even bothering to look up until he heard the sound of a piano playing faintly down the hall. It was the beginning of a familiar song, playing over and over again and practically willing him to follow it — and he did.

Quietly and feeling like Joe from You, he made his way down and hall and followed the music into the entrance backstage. The music stopped for just a second before it continued. Ricky walked in, steps light and careful not to startle whoever was playing until he saw—

you.

Ricky didn’t know you played piano. Then again, he didn’t know much about you and what you could do ( other than singing and being better at skateboarding than him ). It was just another talent he could check off of the list.

He almost thought about surprising you while you played. Almost.

“Okay. You can probably play this,” you encouraged yourself quietly, oblivious o Ricky’s presence as you began to play the song: Start of Something New. But as you opened your mouth to sing Troy’s part, you heard someone else beat you to it.

“Living in my own world, didn't understand

That anything can happen, when you take a chance.”

Your fingers left the keys, head turning to the voice. Immediately, your face hardened at the sight of Ricky Bowen, walking closer to you and the piano with a smile on his face.

“Well? You gotta sing your part now,” he commented, leaning against the piano’s body as he looked down at you.

“I’m not going to if you’re here.”

“Oh c’mon, babe,” he encouraged, the new nickname making your heart skip a beat. Just one; not that you’d mention it out loud. You hid it behind a bitchy look. “Miss Jenn did say we had to sell Gabriella and Troy.” Ricky shrugged to himself nonchalantly. “Singing this song might help pull it off.”

You rolled your eyes at him for what felt like the 100th time that day.

Again, he grinned encouragingly. “Please?” Ricky asked, pouting jokingly.

With one last cold glare, you sighed, scooting aside for him to sit. “Fine. Just this song.” You looked at him expectingly, watching him look at you in confusion before you motioned to the seat. “The lyrics are on my phone.”

“What if I don’t need them?” Ricky challenged, cocking a brow.

“You do. You barely even know the plot to High School Musical,” you retorted, turning your attention to your phone and knowing you won the argument. You felt him sit down alongside you, and you tried to ignore how warm he was before placing your fingers on and keys and starting the song from where you left off.

“I never believed in, what I couldn't see

I never opened up my heart, to all the possibilities.”

Your eyes were focused on the lyrics on your phone, effortlessly singing Gabriella’s part as if it were nothing. To you, it probably was nothing, but as Ricky subtly watched you from the corner of his eye, he knew exactly why Miss Jenn chose you to be Gabriella. You nudged him as you sang, snapping him out of his trance. You were smirking at him, and he could already hear you say, ‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer.’

“I know that something has changed. Never felt this way, and right here tonight..”

It seemed to shock you both how well your voices melded together. It was the first time you sang a duet together and it sounded as if you had practiced for forever.

“This could be the start of something new.

It feels so right, to be here with you, oh.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your face at how you both sounded, and you found yourself laughing softly when you saw Ricky nodding his head to the beat. The same subtle smile was on his face, all usual tension between the both of you gone as you sang in harmony.

“And now looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart, the start of something new.”

Your eyes met at that line ( as cliche as it sounded ), and your smile grew as you found yourself nodding along with the song. Ricky was practically dancing, and you bit back a laugh as you both continued to sing.

“Now who'd of ever thought that, we'd both be here tonight?” Ricky sang, pointing at you for dramatic effect.

“And the world looks so much brighter,

with you by my side,” you responded, nudging him yet again and making him grin as he sang the backup vocals.

“I know that something has changed, never felt this way, I know it for real..”

Ricky couldn’t believe how much you changed with one small song. You were having fun, belting out the lyrics like there was no tomorrow. His eyes always landed on you despite his need for the lyrics, and a smile would tug at his lips when he saw you, nodding your head and playing happily. Shit. Maybe he needed to stop looking at you.

“This could be the start of something new

It feels so right, to be here with you, oh.”

He was leaning closer to you, his side touching yours as you played. You both weren’t looking at the lyrics now, your eyes looking at each other with a feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

“And now looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart, the start of something new.”

The last chord echoed between the both of you. You were both slightly out of breath from the song and from the small bit of dancing you both did. It only took a heartbeat of hesitation before you grabbed Ricky by the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips to yours.

Your lips moved quickly against each other, all the pent up frustration being taken out as Ricky kissed you. His hands went to your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to the side of the piano where he placed you on it. Your legs spread and he placed himself between them, breaking the kiss only for a moment before kissing down your neck.

You tilted your head back, a breathy moan leaving your lips when you felt him leave marks along your neck. You ran a hand through his hair, messing it up and bringing his lips back to yours. You pulled away before kissing his neck, leaving a mark under his ear and listening to his shaky breaths. You continued your way down, leaving marks to get him back for the ones he left on you. Your hands crept up under the shirt he wore, tugging it up to pull it off of him until—

“Holy shit.”

Big Red’s voice broke you two apart, your eyes wide as you stared at Big Red. You tried to fix yourself and your hair, covering up the hickeys that you knew he left behind. Ricky immediately rubbed his neck, hiding the marks you left on him as he smiled sheepishly to his friend.

“When I told you you were gonna make out someday I didn’t know it was gonna be in a week or so!” Big Red remarked, making you groan and making Ricky rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I came back to get you, by the way,” Big Red said pointedly at Ricky. “I knew you were gonna be at your house,” he added, voice softening slightly.

Ricky nodded, mumbling a ‘thank you.’ He watched as you jumped off of the piano, grabbing your backpack from the floor. Your hair was a mess and red splotches were starting to appear on your neck. “Hey. I’ll see you tomorrow—“

“We don’t speak about that to anyone,” you stated, quiet enough so that only he could hear you. Your whole demeanor changed, and for once, you couldn’t meet Ricky’s eyes. “It meant nothing to both of us. Okay, Ricky?” Those were lies, but he didn’t need to know that.

You’d never called him his real name before.

Hiding the hurt from his eyes, Ricky nodded, forcing a smile to his face. “Right. It meant nothing.” He but his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from asking you why you didn’t want to talk about what had happened. It had to mean something, right?

You had hurried out before he could utter another word, leaving him to answer all the questions Big Red had for him.

—

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