#and frank returning after america swears he hears him a couple of times

[neioo]

.

[rocorambles]

Beauty and the Beast

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Life isn’t a fairytale and Iwaizumi is perfectly fine with that. 

Author’s Note: Gifting this to @aonesteddybear as part of the SFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event. Hope you enjoy~

Oikawa had always used to joke that whenever Iwaizumi got a girlfriend, it would be like the live reenactment of Beauty and the Beast (which always earned him a well-aimed volleyball to the head). But the ex-ace secretly wonders if the brunette is right. 

High school had been full of shy giggling girls who had nervously confessed to him or asked him out, entranced by the idea of dating the ace and vice-captain of Aoba Johsai’s renowned volleyball team, the best friend of Oikawa Tooru himself, the boy the entire Seijoh team and the rest of his peers highly respected and spoke well of. Even second-year Kyoutani Kentarou seemed to be on his best behavior whenever the spiky haired third-year was around and that was saying something. 

Encouraged and urged on by Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki to test out the waters, Iwaizumi had gone on a few dates. But he always felt like a bumbling inarticulate caveman no matter how sweet, how kind, how accommodating the girls were. 

He cringes when he remembers how accidentally callous he had been with his words, making girls cry and left when he lectured them about eating less sweets and exercising more when they insisted on going to desert shops, things he would tell his own teammates out of a responsibility to keep them healthy, not because he cared about what they looked like. And he groans when he remembers the countless times his highschool dates had screamed in his face when he just shrugged his shoulders and said they looked fine, the same as usual, when they showed off a new outfit, new haircut, new makeup look. 

Boys still flocked to him, younger students looking up to him as a role model, his male classmates fist bumping and slapping a hand on his back in friendly greeting. But gossip travels fast among highschool girls and as oblivious as Iwaizumi usually is to the rumors circulating around, even he notices the wary looks and whispers every time he walks past a group of girls. 

"Iwaizumi is polite, but I heard he has no social skills. Did you hear how he made the last girl he dated cry?"

"Iwaizumi and Oikawa are best friends, but Iwaizumi isn't anywhere near as charming as Oikawa." 

"Iwaizumi is kind of cute, but I heard he's kind of a brute when you get to know him." 

Rough around the edges. Gruff. Lacks tact. 

The descriptions never seem to end and although it stings a bit, Iwaizumi can't deny that there's some truth to all of the above. 

So he swears off dating throughout the rest of high school, dedicating himself to volleyball, making it to Nationals, passing the college entrance exam, leaving highschool with no regrets as he spends as much time laughing and fooling around with Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki as he can before hopping onboard a flight to California. 

America is different. College is different. And suddenly he feels like he's the beauty and the girls around him are beasts. 

Iwaizumi knows that even by Japan’s more conservative standards, he still falls on the quieter and introverted side of the spectrum, so acclimating to a place like California is a cultural shock to say the least. He feels as skittish as a mouse as girls blatantly flutter their eyelashes and casually lay their hands on his shoulders in class. He almost drops his drink in surprise when drunk college girls walk right up to him and attempt to lock lips at parties. And on the few dates that he does go on, he feels like a wide-eyed blushing maiden when he’s practically dragged into apartments after a date has ended under the guise of just watching a TV show together, only to realize that his date has much less innocent intentions. 

He tries to convince himself that it’s not just him, that it’s just a clash of cultures and that he’ll get used to it. But he throws his phone across the room when he sees pictures of Oikawa looking perfectly at home in Argentina’s arguably more sensuous and passionate culture. Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki handle themselves just fine the few times they come to visit Iwaizumi and he groans when he sees the two men soak up the attention and physical touches without even batting an eye. 

Fine, so maybe it is just him. 

Tired of being siloed into the roles of beauty and beast, he once again pushes dating aside, opting instead to dive headfirst into his studies, join the university’s volleyball club, explore the west coast. He gets good grades. He makes new friends. He gets to continue playing the sport he loves. All in all, it’s a great life and he really can’t complain. But every time he walks past a couple on campus holding hands, every time he sees a couple sitting together in the college coffee shop, every time he video chats with his old highschool friends and they go on and on about the girls they’re currently seeing, he feels a sharp pang of longing deep inside of him. 

Years pass and he busies himself with acing his exams and landing a solid career and now that he has his dream job as an athletic trainer for Japan’s National team, he hardly has time to think about anything outside of his rowdy team, let alone dating or women. And it certainly helps that the males he’s surrounded with on a daily basis all have one track minds, too focused on volleyball, on the court, on always excelling to care about romance or relationships. It’s a mindset he’s more than well acquainted with and he feels like he’s finally in his element as he barks orders and drills at the sweaty athletes, grinning when Bokuto’s spikes get stronger, giving a thumbs up when Hinata jumps even higher than before. 

Who needs a ring on their finger or a woman on their arm when victory tastes even sweeter than any love story? 

Or so he thinks until he meets you. 

The team is celebrating another victory at their favorite bar and although Iwaizumi is happy for them, he keeps a close eye on how many drinks they’re chugging, knowing that the role of babysitter will always fall on Ushijima and him. But all seems well so far. Atsumu and Sakusa aren’t at each other’s throats. Hinata and Bokuto are speaking in relatively coherent sentences. So he decides to reward himself with another drink, making his way over to the counter and waiting for the bartender to notice him. 

It’s a busy night and he sighs when minutes pass by, but he tenses up when a teasing voice reaches his ears. 

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep on frowning like that.” 

It’s instinctive, the way he scowls and snaps back at the stranger without even looking at them, telling them that’s just his face and if they don’t like it, they can take a hike. But he pales when he registers his harsh words and an apology is already forming in his mouth when he whips his head around to look at you, only to stare in surprise when you just cackle at him, eyes glimmering with mischief and curiosity as you introduce yourself, so different from the usual disappointed or judgemental looks he receives from women. 

And he wonders if this is a prank or a dream, disbelief coursing through him at how easily the two of you converse after years of believing that he would never find someone he was compatible with. There’s no need to sugarcoat his words, to filter his thoughts and he watches in awe as you take it all in stride, never flinching at his frank words, rolling your eyes with an amused smile on your face before sending a quip of your own right back at him, filling in the gaps when words don’t easily flow from his mouth. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t feel like a beauty or a beast. He’s just himself. Iwaizumi Hajime. 27. Athletic trainer. A man quickly falling head over heels for the woman besides him.

Dating you is a breath of fresh air. It’s comfortable. It’s natural. It just feels...right. There’s no pressure on him to be prince charming (although he tries his best and ends up grumbling when you just laugh at his stiff attempts of eloquent conversation and polite mannerism). There’s no tears or vague confusing anger directed his way when he misses subtle cues or phrases something horribly (both of which he is often guilty of) and he just nods and listens, jotting down mental notes when you tell him directly and clearly why you’re upset with him. 

And in return you see his more nuanced signs of affection and love. You see it when he roughly grabs your bags from you and holds them for you. You feel it when he silently corrects your posture when you’re working out together. You hear it when he briskly grunts at you to stop working so much and get some real food and sleep.      

Life isn’t a fairytale. There are no magic teapots to provide guidance. There’s no spell to blame their fights on. There’s no magic that will instantly restore peace. There’s only two humans, two equals learning how to love, navigating through life together, sticking side by side through the fights, the tears, the laughter, and the smiles. 

And Iwaizumi can’t help but think this is far better than any romantic fantasy, even a tale as old as time like Beauty and the Beast.    

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Flyboy (Floyd Talbert x Female! Reader)

this is my first fanfic, like EVER.  and i really wanted to write for Band of Brothers for a really long time now. sooo here’s my best shot at it. an i know this trope has been done a lot buuuut i can’t help myself. i hope i did well on my first ever fanfic

Description- It’s been a while since you had the time to enjoy yourself, and you finally get to spend it with the boys at the Currahee Party. As the night goes on, the boys decide you had a little too much fun after making a bet with Joe Toye. On the journey back to the barracks, you drunkenly slip out a few words to a certain guy you have your eyes on. 

Words- about 3.7k (oh wow)

Warnings- intense drinking, and vulgar language(i mean… it’s the Easy boys) rest is just fluff an two idiots fallin for each other ig <3

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Adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling the whole way down to the building where the party was gonna be held. You spent your time making sure you looked good. 

Hopefully good enough to catch that boy’s attention… Ever since you met him at Camp Toccoa, all of your thoughts were occupied by who other than Floyd Talbert. 

The way he looked in his PT uniform, his God-awful jokes, and that goofy smile of his. Any woman would have to be mad to turn Floyd Talbert down.

You two would joke like no tomorrow, and some of the Easy Company men would say that you two would make a good couple (to both of you guys’ embarrassment, but you two lowkey kind of like it).

 You don’t really hang out with him as much as yo, Liebgott, Bill, and Frank do, sadly. But you both made sure to make the moments you two spend together last.

He was like an angel, and he never fails to make your day just a tad bit brighter. No matter how many times Sobel punishes you, if you get to his cute face or hear his sweet voice, guess what? Everything else but him doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

It was understatement that thinking of him led you to getting into trouble by Sobel.  How many times did he make you run up that fucking hill just because you were distracted by some annoying, pissy, and undeniably cute bastard? 

You gave up on keeping track after the fifth time.

No matter how many times you try to push him out of your head, he somehow keeps crawling back.  You just wished that he would see you more than his best friend. And that was the one thing you hated about yourself… 

But this night wasn’t about him. Oh no, this is the night where you finally get off Camp Toccoa and escape Sobel’s never ending complaints.  You finally got the jump wings you and you’re boys deserved. 

After this, you’re gonna fight at Normandy and you're gonna show America the greatest soldier in existence. But it couldn’t hurt to catch his eye at this party tonight. Sooooo... 

You dressed to impress.

You made damn sure that everything about was absolutely perfect. Some light makeup to highlight your key features and to make your lips and (E/C) eyes pop. You decided to leave your (H/L) hair down and to slightly curl your (H/C) locks. 

The day you wouldn’t be soldiers’ eyes with the way you looked tonight was the day hell would freeze over. The way you looked tonight and you couldn’t help but be flattered when the boys whistled and complimented you on your look.

“Golly (Y/N), who are you tryna impress tonight? And oh Lord, please tell me it’s not Sobel.” Perconte jokes at you, wrapping an arm around your soldiers.

“Relax, relax, you sure as hell know it isn’t Sobel. I’m doing this for myself.” You throw your subtle lie at Perconte while nudging his arm off.

“You see boys, this is where I call bull. No matter how many times we go to bars, not one time, not ever have you ever put in this much effort.” 

“Shut up Perco, I never put effort because I know I already look good. Unlike a certain someone I know.” 

Your (E/C) eyes drift over to Perconte’s and you decide to lightly ruffle his hair before you jokingly punch his arm. Even though you were smiling, you were, in all honesty, a nervous wreck inside. The cogs and gears in your brain kept turning and, damn, was it giving you a headache. 

You were trying really hard to catch his eye tonight, and you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip by your fingers so easily. Fingers nervously patted down your uniform for any creases. Your arms reached to adjust the hell out of your hat. 

You twirled your strands of (H/C) hair on your fingers out of nervousness. Lastly, you decide to fix the tan skirt that hugged your legs ever so nicely. The pads of your fingers were turning ghostly white from how hard you were gripping the ends of your blazer. 

Huffing out in exasperation, you decide to run your hands to smooth down your uniform for what seemed like ages.Joe, like the older brother that he is to you, walks over like he somehow notices your nervousness.

Steady arms wrap against your shoulders as he pulls you to his side. His eyes glance over at your anxious face before starting to speak. 

“Hey c’mon, doll, what’cha nervous for? You look beautiful enough, I mean it. Now stop fussing over your clothes or else you won’t have hands before we even get to Normandy.” 

Joe’s words reassure you and you look up and stare ahead at the dirt road in front of you.

“God! When I’m done, my liver’s gonna shut down,�� Guarnere states loudly, cigarette between his lips and arms reaching over to pull you and Perco close to him. 

“And both of you assholes better make sure the replacement that comes afterwards comes just as close as being as hot as me!”

A breathy laugh escapes your lips at Guarnere’s words, the beam in your eyes never leaving since Easy Company got the news that there would be a party just for them. With good food, no Sobel getting annoyed for no valid reason, and beer.

Lots, and lots, and lots of beer.

 And that was what caught all of Easy Company’s attention.

“Not on my watch Billy-boy. Wouldn’t want a freshman who could only aim his piss instead of his shot to replace Ol’ Gonorrhea! Don’t you think so (Y/N)?” 

Perconte’s eyes turn to you, lips pulling upward into a smirk.

“Well in that case, I wouldn’t mind if some newbie replaces Old Faithful over there.” 

You joke, making sure to raise your eyebrows and to look at Bill to look at his reaction.

“C’mon (Y/N), I bet you only want that because you don’t want competition!”

 He shows off his famous eat-shitting grin while he nudges your arm slightly.

 “I swear on my life that I could be dancing, spinning, and reciting three passages from the Bible, and I could still shoot a Kraut from 1000 feet better than you.”

“You talk a lot of shit for a sober man, Guarno.” 

Finally making it to the building. Bill opens the door and you, Perconte, and Liebgott walk inside.Your eyes were met by all of the Easy Company getting absolutely wasted. 

You even quickly lost count of how many men were downing glass after glass and how many men were already halfway to heaven. Shouts and cheers filled the air and your once anxious mood dissipated at an instant. 

You turn your head to look at your buddies before Bill cracked a smile.

“Try not to die before me, alright you pricks?”

Rolling his eyes, Joe flicks Bill’s forehead and you chuckled for a few good seconds. 

“No promises Bill.” 

Bill smacks your’s and Joe’s heads before walking over to sit at an empty seat with Bull. 

Frank leaves the doorway to saunter over to Johnny. Joe flashes a quick grin and gives you a pat on the back before quickly joining Bill and sitting at another empty seat at the table. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you spotted two of your best friends at the bar.  Walking briskly to the surprisingly not the occupied bar, you throw a smile at Toye and a wink at George, who gladly returns it.

“Now tell me (Y/N), how much money are ya willin’ to bet that I could drink more rounds of beers than you?” 

You scoff loudly as you smack Toye’s shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I could drink three times as much as you can Toye. So unless you’re planning to lose good money, then I suggest you drop this.”

“5 bucks, (L/N), take it or leave it.”

“I’m not stupid enough to pass up a bet that I know I’m winning. Count me in Toye, but you’re gonna regret this.”

The glare he gave you made you burst out laughing and after recovering you gave your attention to George. You lean over the counter to put your hand on George’s shoulder while beaming him a cheeky smile.

“Alright Georgie, you heard us. You’ll be the judge, okay? Now hurry up and pour us our drinks, I'm looking forward to a real nice hangover in the morning.” 

“Aye aye, private.”

Plopping back down to your seat, your eyes wandered across the room and, boom, there he was in all of his glory. Floyd Talbert, stealer and breaker of hearts. 

Your stare lingers for what seems like days and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. My God, you could never get enough of him, no matter what you may push yourself to think. 

He was already a bit tipsy, you observed. Slowed down movements, slurred speech, and rosy cheeks. All of a sudden those beautiful chestnut eyes of his met your (e/c) ones. 

You could’ve sworn that his face was getting redder after you two made eye contact.

 You were sure that yours was. 

The world kind of started to slow down, and it felt that you and Floyd were the only people in that room. His goofy smile made you return one of your own while the world continued to dance around you.

 You were hypnotized by Floyd, there was no other explanation.

 Little did you know that he was feeling the same.

Not wanting your little encounter to be awkward, you decided to give him a demure smile while raising your hand to wave at him. You giggled like a schoolgirl when you saw him waving back at you, glass of beer still in his hand. 

Almost forgetting about your bet with Toye, you suddenly yelped when Joe came to tap on your shoulder.

“Yoo-hoo, earth to (L/N)? Don’t tell me that you’re drunk already, though i’m not complaining. I’ll be all too happy to get 5 bucks from you.”

Joe smirked as he watched you recollect yourself from your flustered state, failing to come up with sentences and only managing to stammer words that didn’t make sense.  Joe laughs before rubbing your shoulders to help you calm down a little. The clinking of glasses on the wooden surface causes you to look up at George.

“Two beers for the lovely couple, now just call me up if ya need more. Or throw your glass at me, either one works.”

After throwing a light glare at George you face Joe, who smirks at you, thinking that you’ll be done after two glasses. 

Well he’s wrong, cause you know you can handle more than two glasses. 

“Good luck.”

“I don’t need it Joey. No need for luck when I know I’m going to win.”

George then counted down from…

“One…”

“Two…” 

“Three…”

“Go!”

And as soon as George shouted those words from his lips, you and Toye rushed to get your drinks and down them as fast as you can. George couldn’t even see your arms move for your glasses. 

You quickly brought the cool glass to your mouth and downed the liquid like your life depended on it.  It burned as it went down your throat, but you could care less. You just needed fun and those five bucks tonight.

When you finished you slammed the glass hard on the table, so hard that you feared you could’ve left a dent on the wooden counter. You slammed back your empty glass about the same time Joe did. 

You both desperately called out for George and George hurried over to take your cups and refill them.

“Didn’t think you’d make it this far, Joey.” You directed at him a teasing grin and were met by a playful roll of his eyes.

George came as fast as he could and slammed the two glasses in a similar manner as he did before. Like before, you and Joe rushed for your glasses and heaved them up faster than light. 

Soon a crowd started to form around the two of you. The bar suddenly became louder than before and your adrenaline burst through the roof. However, now that Floyd was in the crowd, you couldn’t help but burn up again. (E/C) eyes flickered over the crowd, searching for him. 

When your eyes finally landed on him, you couldn’t be more surprised when he was already staring at you.  The slamming of the glasses caught your attention and you proceeded to gulp the amber liquid.

Round after round of beers, you started to feel lightheaded. The lights seemed to blind you and the pounding your head was only made worse by the cheers and shouts of the crowd around you.  You would be lying if you said you weren’t drunk. Images were blurry and sounds weren’t as clear as they were supposed to be.You could barely make out any sentences or words that anyone was saying. 

Mumbled words and incoherent sentences passed by your lips, and you could barely look straight ahead without seeing double. You swear you were on your 30th glass of beer…  You looked over at Joe and he didn’t seem to be better than you were.

“Alright kiddos, last round. You two don’t look so good.” George muttered, or at least that’s what you think he did.

The redundant sound of the glass slamming on to the wood barely registered in your mind before your whole head became too heavy for your neck to support. The last thing you felt was your forehead making hard contact with the wooden surface of the bar counter. 

The last thing you heard was the crowd yelling and your friends shouting for someone to help you.

The last thing you saw were those beautiful chestnut eyes and softly tousled dark brown hair.

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You groaned as you felt your body being shaken and as your eyes slowly opened, you could start to make out gentle words being said in your direction.  Slowly but surely, you start to gain back your consciousness. 

The quiet was the first thing that hit you. The loud yelling and shouting and the clinking of glasses of beer seem to have disappeared. Suddenly you come to your senses that you’re not in the bar anymore. 

You swiftly turned your head around to see exactly where you were, but that only seemed to give you a headache. Groaning out, you raised your to feel something for support. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), I got you now.”

A sudden burst of energy went through you when you heard the voice. 

You, slowly now, turned your head to see who was talking to you. Your vision was still blurry, and the pounding in your head still hasn’t stopped.

“Joey- That you- no, no, no… Are you Percy? Perseus…? Oh! Perco… No. It doesn’t sound like you. Ahhh. You’re Guadamalarkey, I don’t know. That doesn’t seem right…” 

You called out a few names, but none of the names seemed to fit with the voice you just heard. You continued to slur and ramble incoherently, but you were stopped when the voice started again.

“You’re that drunk? Thought you could recognize me by now.”

Huh? Who’s he-

Oh.

OH.

“Flyboy? Is that you...?”

 “Jesus (Y/N), Flyboy? C’mon, we should get you to bed.”

“Yeeah.. Flyboy… Flyboy Tablets. Right?”

 You muttered quietly, still unknowingly clinging on to his crisp blazer. Floyd laughed, and there it is again. The blushing and the stammering.  Floyd didn’t really seem to notice though, as he was enraptured by your parted lips, glazed eyes, and the soft yet husky ramblings of your drunk self.

“Close enough, (Y/N). We really need to go get you to bed, okay?”

Soft, gentle circles were rubbed on your back, and it worked slightly enough to calm you down and to stop the dizziness and lightheadedness. Floyd picked you up gingerly from the dirt road you were sitting on for the past few couple of minutes.

He helped you get up, and you clumsily wiped off any dirt that was clinging on to your uniform.  Floyd had carefully put your arm over his shoulder and gingerly wrapped his other arm around your waist.

 A slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks as he looked over at you. 

What he would do to kiss those lips of yours. He mentally scolded himself for thinking about you in that way while you were under the very, very heavy influence of alcohol at the moment. 

Floyd was taking his time when helping you walk. He kicked tiny rocks and pebbles out of the way to make sure you wouldn’t trip, and every time you would stumble he would put his arm in front of you, while his hand was tightly gripping on your blazer. 

After a few minutes of walking, you turned to him with your glazed (E/C) eyes and ever so slightly leaned in closer to him. You two stopped near the barracks, just outside of it really.

The sky was dark and stars were shining, it once again felt like they were the only people in the entire world.

“You know, Flyboy… I- I liked you ever since I saw you… Like.. l-like like, I suppose?”

Did he- Did he hear right?  Floyd knew he wasn’t as drunk as you, but he had to have been drunk enough to have had heard whatever you were saying.  There is no possible way that he had just heard you say those words correctly. 

His eyes widened and no amount of drinking could have made his cheeks burn red brighter than right now.  Floyd’s breathing slowly picked as he looked over at your disheveled, yet oddly cute and beautiful appearance. 

You were so, so, so close… 

Just one more inch and his lips would be touching yours.. But he controlled himself, and urged himself to listen to your slurred speech. 

“An- and- every time, every single goddamn time, I h-hung out with you... The feelings just got wor-worse… I really didn’t want to like yoooou.”

Oh yeah, he was definitely drunk.

“But I couldn’t stop… You know? I really like yo-you, Flyboy… I think I love you too.. Really love you… You just make me so happy and you could make me sm-sm…. Smile.”

You continued while smiling like an idiot, and Floyd was burning up by the second.

“No matter how many times that prick Sable curses at me, just o-one good look at you. My troubles are awaaaay..”

“You’re really drunk, (Y/N), you’re probab-”

“But I do! I really do, Flyboy…” 

You suddenly whined out, interrupting him. You knew what he was going to say, and you had to prove to him that you really did love him from the start. 

You were burning up so fast already. Whether from the alcohol or from your close proximity to Floyd, you really didn’t know. Floyd really didn’t know how to respond, but he thought that since you were drunk, whatever he’s going to say to you… You’ll forget it in the morning.

“(Y/N), I-I know you’re just drunk. And that you’ll forget this shitfest in the morning. But I actually lik-love you too. You’re so smart,” 

He says while caressing your (S/C) skin, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

“So beautiful and funny,�� His fingers brushed over your parted lips and your breath hitched for the 100th time in this minute.

“And so fucking brave and kind.” Floyd quietly murmured, only intending for only him and you to hear.

 He looks up to your dazzling (E/C) eyes with his equally stunning chestnut ones. You stare at each other, and you could see nothing but warmth and pure, genuine love inside of his irises. 

He takes his time to examine your face again. You rest in comfortable silence, the only sounds you could hear were both Floyd’s and your heavy breathing.

“I don’t care if you’re gonna forget my words tomorrow… I just need to get it off my fucking chest… I love you. I love you so much (Y/N), and I literally don’t know what I’m going to do without you.. When I saw you looking like that, my heart burst…”

Now you knew you were really drunk, and you stood there in shock, stupefied reaction pasted over your face.

“Every time you’re talking with any of those guys. I just… I get so jealous, but I'm too much of a coward to let you know how I feel.”

How many times have you blushed or had your breath taken away because of this guy?  But he still continues, glancing up and down between your hands woven between his and your alluring (E/C) eyes. 

“You’re perfect to me, and fuck what anybody else says, ok? And I know you’ll just forget this in the morning bu-”

Without any thought crossing through your mind, you yanked on his tie and pulled him towards your face. 

Finally, finally! 

After months and months that turned into years of pining… You were finally kissing Floyd fucking Talbert. 

His wide eyes slowly closed as both of you melted in each other’s touch. His arm snaked around your waist so your chest was flush against his. He reached up, fingers following your jawline and slowly making its way to run its way through your disheveled (H/C) hair. 

The kiss was so tender, and you could’ve died right there on the spot. The lips you imagined kissing you all over were right there. You couldn’t help but want more.

You wrapped your arm around neck, and tilted your head slightly to deepen the kiss. (S/C) colored hands running through his short, soft hair, slightly pulling on the roots.

Truly, nothing else mattered, and you two were finally one.

As you two broke the kiss, your eyes slowly wandered up to meet his. You were entranced to see that he loved that kiss just as much as you did.

You two gasped for air and your chests were heaving up and down. 

Love was all you really felt right now. 

Drunk or not, you both really didn’t care. 

“I know I’m not going to forget this in the morning… Now will you shut up and kiss me again, Flyboy?”

And he did.

 Over, and over, and over again.

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“SEE I TOLD YOU SHE WAS TRYNA IMPRESS SOMEONE!”

“Shut up, Percy!”

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whoooo what a doozy, gonna write speirs next ;)))))

 btw sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes or making any characters too OOC

5 bucks back then is like about 74-76 dollars today

[jackbabewang]

At first sight...

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader Genre: College au, Fluff, That library crush theme Word Count: 2,554

It can be hard to seduce someone in total silence.

Final exams are approaching, so now you are spending a great deal of time in one corner of your room at a clustered study desk, constantly reviewing notes, and grumbling. There are just too many distractions to interrupt you at the dormitory. The residents above are deliberately harassing you by stomping on the floor, classical music blasted from the room next to yours making your unit feel like some strange musical theater of the absurd and then there is your bed. So so inviting. You have enough points going into the exams to pass easily, but the pressure has not lifted because you are keen to scoring the highest possible marks. Well, that is just you being you. To pry yourself away from disturbance, the university’s library seems to be the ideal place for better concentration. And so, your routine begins.

Day 1

Unknowingly excited. Your nerdy self got a seating in a booth that offers the most privacy. Though the library is crowded with students studying frantically, it is still quiet. Your body sinking into the cushioned padding, laptop opened, bookmarks orphaned on tables, highlighters and pens began their labour. 

Day 3

Still going strong. Probably. You need some fresh air and a break from your studies. After a couple of hours sitting hunched over books, you are worried that you can even try out for the role of a hunchback. You decide to take a walk outside on the campus park. You miss warmth, the heat of the sun on your skin, needing the light for some kind of photosynthesis.  

By the time you return to the library, there sits a paper cup on top of your table with a square note beside it written, ‘Hey little fighter, soon things will be brighter!’ There is no name, no initial that gives away the identity of the alleged person who left it there. A small smiled etches on your lips as you reach for the source of warmth, the tip of your fingers have turned icy cold the second after you walked in. A string of white steam escapes through the small opening, turns into vapour around your nose, kinda dumb of you to take a sip without hesitation. The intense heat burns your upper lip and you wince in reaction. “Fuck!” 

Day 5 

Your enthusiasm surely died down. Two days away from the first paper, you are feeling the tension in your shoulders, in the air, when you come across topics that you are unsure of. The ink runs out in your flimsy pen, the cheapest in Target, and your writing fades away into almost invincible marks on the paper, until you reluctantly switch for another. Consequently, you are feeling numbness in your head after reading, with pressure in temples. Faintness and migraine give you a ready-made and honest reason to excuse yourself from the books momentarily. A short walk to the water fountain or the upper floor toilet will do. 

It seems like deja vu all over again when you come back to the same paper cup but with a different note this time, ‘Wish you luck for whatever you’re struggling with :)’ Kinda creepy… not going to lie. The idea of someone watching you has the hair on your neck prickles. However the ever encouraging words compensate for your terror. 

Fifteen minutes prior to closing time, the librarian makes an announcement and requesting patrons to leave. The sun has already set, and the moon is slowly peeking in the darkened sky. That is when you realize you have been staying in for approximately eight hours.

You make your way out immediately, the drink from an anonymous individual in your hand left untouched and disappointingly you have to throw it away. 

“Hey!” 

Your hand stops in mid air, head turns to the rippling voice. A guy in gold rimmed glasses jogs over. With a closer look, he has a strikingly handsome face and you are left wondering what exactly did you associate with a fine man like him. 

“Glad I caught you,” he says, panting slightly. His eyes flitting nervously back and forth between you and the paper cup. “Do you… Do you not like hot drinks? I’ve got you hot chocolate this time since you weren’t drinking the coffee…” 

 “Oh.” So he is the secret delivery guy. 

There is an uneasy silence in the air. He rubs his collarbone and then the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. “I guess you don’t.” 

“No, no! That’s not it. I just- Don’t get me wrong. I don’t wish to catch myself heart attack cause I had two shots of coffee earlier.” Well, the pounding of your heart should be stopped by now but it does not seem to. Weird. “And this… hot chocolate?” You pause for confirmation and is rewarded with a nod. “Is kinda too sweet to my liking and it’s not such a great idea to get jazzed when I’m wracking my brain.” 

He chuckles, mumbling coherently to himself that he has understood girls wrongly. Little did he know, you are no ordinary girl. You are a girl of determination; a girl of the new millennium. Sugary-sweet desserts work no effect, and you do not fawn upon pick up lines and impassioned gestures. You are too, too difficult to please.

“So…” You look everywhere except in his eyes, feeling awkward in the presence of this stranger, a hot stranger to be frank.

“I- I was asking if you wanna have… dinner with me?” Gulping so loudly he can hear himself, enough for you to hear it too, and you can see his Adam’s apple moving rapidly. 

“Sorry… I’m going back now, though…” And have yourself a bowl of bland oatmeal with fresh-cut fruits. Now, however, your stomach grumbles on cue, reminding you that you have not been eating since morning. 

He chuckles again, a pleasant throaty sound, and humiliation nips your skin like sand fleas. “Let’s go. I believe it can’t wait.” 

This is just odd. What has gotten into you to come into agreement with someone you have known for less than an hour. Anyone else will figure you are a pair of couple just by walking together shoulder to shoulder, and if anyone among your circle of friends were to find out, they are definitely going to be nosy about it.

“Hey, I may be strange, but not weird! There’s a difference.” Jaehyun is his name, and he sure has the balls of steel. Let us put it that way. That is cause the guys in your classes are incomparable, they get intimidated by you while he does not even flinch in the face of the wolf (for some reason they gave you the nickname). 

As much as you hate to admit it, the more time you spend with him, the more you enjoy his company, his wit, and his willingness to discuss anything—whether it be politics, Ironman versus Captain America, or Joji’s latest track. He is courteous, ambitious, and attractive, and he can dance with the best of them. Most of all, he does not seem to mind your independent ways of thinking. 

“Are you going now?” He is probably pushing his luck, since he certainly does not want you to leave just yet, but he has to ask. 

“I am.” You can swear you see disappointment flickers in his eyes and if you are not mistaken, his bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout. But it is gone so fast when, “I can stay for… a bit longer.” 

“Great. Follow me.” 

Without another word, he turns and stalks up the stairs. On the third floor landing, he stops and looks back to make sure you are still following closely behind. An amused smile emerges as he watches you panting breaths, and a blush blooms like hothouse roses in your cheeks. Past the hall and into the narrow passage, thence leading to what you assume is the back door which he has already broke open with a flexible plastic ruler. Flipping the light switch, turning on the lights, illuminating the space, and you come to realize it is the abandoned classroom where you attended tutorials for Business Communication last semester. 

“We could’ve taken the elevator!” 

“It won’t be fun then.” 

“You mean, it won’t be fun if you don’t have me to laugh at.” 

“Besides, nobody saw us. We can’t be seen in here.”  

He proceeds to scramble around like he has done it before, maybe not a lot, but a few times at least. He connects his phone to the stereo system and soft, soothing music drifts lazily on the air from hidden speakers. He then joins you at the table, sitting beside you, closer than your very first meeting. 

“I didn’t know this was possible until now.” 

“Oh, they’re a lot I haven’t shown you yet,” he says, wriggling his eyebrows lasciviously and giving you a cocky grin. You just have to have a pep talk with yourself that if Jaehyun is not hinting something else—you can imagine. 

“Do you always bring people here?”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug your shoulders, turning sideways and lean against the chair back with him mirroring your posture. “You know… Girls… Is this how you impress them with your lockpicking skills?”

“Are you, perhaps, a wee bit jealous?”

You scoff at such a ridiculous prospect. In fact, you might get salty if you figure you are just one of the chicks he brought over this place. You are not going to fall for him and his antiques like the stupid bitch they are. 

“No. I never bring women here. I don’t bring anyone here. You’re a first.” 

Your interested gaze transfers to him. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. 

“But… why?” 

“Policy.” He glances at you, sees you frowning and says, “Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

Yet for long the study session is either neglected or long been buried and forgotten, the mood of the times is a very different one. You continue to talk, and really got to know each other well, not romantically but just as good friends. Suddenly your conversation is broken with the sound of keys jingling, followed by a quick turn of the knob coming from the far side of the corridor. 

It is the security guard patrol. 

Immediately you scutter about the classroom, switching off all the lights, locking the door while he runs to unplug his phone, making sure to return the place to its original state. You find yourselves under the table and stealing glances out of the small window and the crack beneath the door until it passes. 

Though the guard has already left, it does not seem as if Jaehyun has any intention of moving an inch. He is too close—so close you can smell the musk of his cologne, and he smells so damn good. He is too close—so close you can feel the heat of him, and your backside is all but paralyzed from the uncomfortable position. It is dark, but you can still make out the twinkle in his eyes. The tall guy seems fascinated by you, looking you up and down, then openly studying your face. 

The thought must have form in both your minds at the same time because your eyes flutter shut as he leans forward, kissing you gently on the lips. A deep, lingering kiss that have you wanting more. This kiss is so soft that it’s like a memory of a kiss, so careful on your lips that it is like someone running his fingers along them. Slowly, gently, the tip of his tongue traces your mouth, outlining your lips with exquisite, excruciating care. A growl of pleasure escapes him when you part your lips in welcoming at the first prod of his tongue. The lemon drop he had before adding flavor to a kiss that is already the sweetest of your life. 

One of his hands settle at your waist, the other cups the side of your throat. His thumb slides beneath the neckline of your jacket to stroke the hollow beneath your collarbone. On a soft moan, you plunge into the mindless whirl of your senses and allow yourself to feel. Just feel. For the first time in your life, you finally understand that one kiss can helplessly seduce. And if your heart has not been racing earlier, it now goes into overdrive, hammering against your chest.

Jaehyun knows he should not be kissing you. He has told himself he cannot let it happen so soon. But something about you calls to him. Every rational thought vanishes as he gives in to the sensations rampaging out of control. He holds you close, relishing the feel of your breasts crushed against his chest. Sliding his hand down your back to where your skirt has ridden up, pushing his hand beneath the fabric, gliding it up your thigh. A firm squeeze on the curve of your flesh making you yelp and jolt. The loud collision when you banged your head against the desk above bringing you both to your senses. 

“Shit, sorry.” He is breathing hard, his eyes fierce with arousal, his lips red and moist and a little swollen from that hard kiss. You believe yours appear just the same as well. 

Deep in the foggy recesses of your mind, Jaehyun has crawled from under the table and turned away with downcast eyes as he seemingly adjusting the sudden tightness in his pants. 

What just happened? 

“Are you coming out, or not?” He offers his hand, you blink before sliding your shaking one around his. 

Talk about awkward. His shirt is a wrinkled mass from your gripping fingers, your hair swept to the side still you can feel his delicate touch on your skin, both your faces flushed a luscious crimson from the passionate moment.

“I- I should get going…” You nervously clear your throat. Actually, you are ashamed of yourself about it all. You have never thought of yourself as needy, thereto committing to the blind decision of having a hookup with an incredibly gorgeous man. God must have sent a guardian angel to knock out your head before it takes on another level.

However all these thoughts are gone when he says, “May I see you again?” 

“… Sure.”

“Tomorrow?” Boy, he sure is eager.

“Patience.” 

“Right, that’s why I said tomorrow. I want to see you again in another hour. But I’m willing to wait.” 

Has he always been this sweet and smooth? His words, eye contact, and all body gestures operate in the fashion of sweet talking and alluring you, to really basically falling for his suave, smooth ways. This has never been you. 

Unfortunately, the following days should not be possible because you have to keep your mind active and your sanity intact. 

“After finals?” 

He lets out a deep guttural groan. On a second thought, he wants to take back his words, he is not willing to wait for a week, let alone a day. He wants to greet you with a kiss on the back of your hand and a bouquet of fresh flowers, he wants to take you out for a proper date at an exclusive cafe, he wants to pay for the meals— The list goes on. 

“Right. After finals.”

[bxcksdoll]

Gorgeous

A/N: this is my submission for @golddaggers’ ficstape! I decided to write for the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift. I hope you all enjoy it cause I had a lot of fun writing it!

Arriving involves an elegant sweep across the floor, escorted arm in arm with an already-forgotten face. The smell of lavender intoxicates the room as you enter further. Unrecognisable faces turn at your presence; you’re only interested in one. The silky green fabric of your dress hides little yet is more intriguing to the common eye. You know you’re being watched by him. You feel it on the flushed skin of your back - the hairs standing up in reach of a single touch.

Your escort links his arm with yours, holding the small of your back as though showing you off as a trophy. A prized possession. Your skin shudders at the contact, the misogynistic gesture. Glancing up, you take into account the unsettling - some might even say repulsive - grin. He was a prosaic, average choice of a date. Nothing like him.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted him. The towering, blond super-soldier. America’s ass himself. Stephen Grant Rogers. The man you could never have - or so you had thought for the past few months. Flirting with the innocent man had been useless as he’s far too polite and naive to understand; Steve takes your small touches and compliments as a kind courtesy, nothing more than a neighbourly action. 

Recently, you had tried to move on from your crush. You had been searching for other men. Toys, merely. None could compare to the great Captain America. None every would. The man currently ushering you around was only a puppet. You’d be done with him soon, just like the rest. All you wished for was a reaction out of Steve.

“So,” an obnoxious voice croaked out from above you. “Are you going to introduce me to the team?” He sent a wink your way. Your lavender-scented skin shivered.

“Alright,” you bit the inside of your lower lip, leading the man over to the first group of Avengers.

“And who do we have here?” Tony quirked an eyebrow at your acquaintance. The tip of his tongue became visible in the corner of his mouth, showing his curious playfulness.

“This is-er-” shit, shit, shit what’s his name again? Frank? No. Fred? No - think, Y/N, think...Francis! That’s it! “This is Francis. Francis, this is, as I’m sure you’re aware, Tony Stark.” At this point, you barely recalled the names of the other men you’d tried to fill the Steve-shaped hole in your heart. You weren’t in the least surprised that this man was any different. He was clowning himself thinking he’d ever have a real shot with you.

“Great to meet you, Tony, I’m a big fan! I read your paper on-” Zoning out with this guy wasn’t uncommon, you didn’t care much for what he had to say. You tended to pick up boring guy after boring guy. No one compared to Steve. But, the conversation when on with you dropping in and out of it. Occasionally, you’d gaze over at Steve to see if he’d look your way. He never did.

“I’m going for a drink,” you stated, after minutes of your date paying more attention to Tony than yourself. The two men seemed to not hear, too engrossed in their own tedious conversation.

Again, your emerald dress swept across the floor. Your curls bounced with the eagerness to get some alcohol in your system. Perhaps you’d have a good time if you had a couple of drinks. Arriving at the bar, you glanced around to see Steve, yet again, not looking at you. Giving up hope was still difficult - you knew in your head that he’d never give you more than a glance but your heart still held out hope for more.

The only solution in your mind was to start drinking. You thought you could drink your feelings away, puke them up once enough liquor had entered your system. This thought had occurred more times than you’d wish. However, the dismay of it failing never stopped you from trying again. You never gave up hope. Attempting to rid yourself of this burden again and again.

You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk.

“Natashaaaaaa!” Reaching your arm diagonally above you, you called to the redhead. A few vodka shots had made you drunk enough to start mingling with your fellow teammates.

“Hey, sweetheart, everything okay?” Natasha’s features crumpled up as she wandered over to your slightly swaying position.

“Yep, never better,” you giggled, linking your left arm with her right. The two of you started to walk through the crowds of other drunkards and drinkers, rising and falling to the beat of the music. You were at rhythm with each other, perfectly in tune.

“What happened to you and your date? Shouldn’t you be with him?” She asked, concern running through her voice.

“Pffff!” You scoffed, waving a hand a bit too close to her face. “I don’t even like my date! Hasn’t everyone figured that out by now?”

“Well, I had but I didn’t feel it was my place to be rude and mention it,” Natasha chuckled. “So, you give up finding someone that’s not Steve?”

The mention of his name sent a shooting pain of a pierce through your heart. You stopped swaying with her and gazed your narrowing eyes into hers.

“How did you-”

“Sweetheart, nothing gets past me. I know everything.” Her smirk somehow made you feel at ease. She had kept your secret for this long; you exchanged a thankful smile with her.

“Anyway, you should know, I don’t like him anymore! I mean, have you heard the way he talks? Ugh, he’s so boring! ‘Rules’ this and ‘language’ that - I prefer a guy who can let loose and relax for even just a few seconds!”

“Of course, Y/N. Of course,” Natasha giggled. Unbeknownst to you, as you seemed to slip into a less-conscious state, Natasha had led you to a group of Avengers heated in conversation. They all greeted you and included you in their discussion. Instantly you caught eye of him. Your heart exploded, the air in your lungs evaporated from the heat burning in your core. But you couldn’t look at him. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.

Even with his presence, your body grew tense. He was there in the corner of your eye. Not even looking or talking to you and yet he had more of an effect on your heart than a cardiac arrest ever could. Even the rise and fall of his chest sparked heat to rise in your core.

Turning to trail your eyes around the room, they landed on Francis still deep in conversation with Tony. However, there was one change from the last time you’d seen them: Tony’s new irritated expression. You frowned, hoping this encounter wouldn’t ruin Tony’s night.

Your head snapped back at the sound of one familiar super-solider inputting his ideas into the forgotten conversation. His voice was like a sweet melody, could soothingly set you to sleep. You’d have it as your ringtone if it wasn’t considered creepy. You’d have his entire being. If only you could.

You've ruined my life, by not being mine.

Through your drunken state, you were oblivious to the reality of the night. How Steve had noticed your distance with your date. How Steve had been trying to get you to engage in the conversation for almost 20 minutes now. He paid close attention to you ever since you’d joined the team. Closer attention than you’d have ever thought.

He brought up topic of your interest, in the hopes that you’d speak to him. Engage with him. Look at him. You never did. Most of the time, you were in a daze, not even listening; other times, you were talking with Natasha; the only times you heard, you purposely didn’t engage. Again, striving to get over your crush. The more Steve tried to engage, the more you refused to. This push and pull action aggravated Steve - he didn’t understand why you had been so obnoxious to him lately.

You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face.

The only thoughts running through your mind, this evening, were him. His breathing. His stance. His adorned features. His presence was too intoxicating. Even if you wished to, you couldn’t speak with him. If he would even lock eyes with you your mouth would go dry, your voice with quiver more than your empty heart.

You should take it as a compliment that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

“Wanna go get another drink?” You asked Natasha.

“I think you’ve had enough, Y/N,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

“Oh c’mon! Let loose a bit, Nat.”

After some more persuading on your half and considering on Natasha’s, she gave in to your proposal. As the two of you made your way back to the bar, a certain blond’s eyes were fixed on your exit from the group. There it was again, pulling movement away from him. It was unmistakable. But Steve refused to let this happen, he needed to go after you.

After a couple of minutes, Steve grew tired of the current conversation and excused himself. He spotted you and Natasha from across the room, striding with purpose over to you. He needed to know why - why you were so distant. While you were ordering a drink, turning your back to Natasha as you did so, Steve swooped in. He quietly asked the redhead if he could speak with you in private and she greatly obliged, leaving the two of you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the, once again, familiar voice came from behind you. You swayed around, slowly, processing those gorgeous eyes staring through yours. 

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine.

“Steve,” you were caught for breath, confused and light-headed. “Where did Natasha go?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ve been avoiding me.”

You could swear the whole party could hear your heart beat over the music. Could Steve physically see your heart lurch forward and back to touch the silky fabric of your dress? You were almost positive he could.

I feel like I might sink and drown and die.

“I haven’t been...avoiding you,” you felt at any moment your words would fail you. You’d decend into a stuttering, salient mess. One which you’d never return from.

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N,” Steve’s features grew angrier. Darker. “I want to be civil here but you can’t even be reasonable and tell me the truth.”

How could you respond to that? Was there no way out? Does he already know the true reason? Your mind couldn’t process much. You were lost for words.

“I...I...”

“You what?”

“I’m-I’m just a little bit drunk, tonight, Steve. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve avoided you but I guess must have done it unintentionally,” you finally answered, not being able to hide a light blush on your cheeks.

“Tonight?! I’m not just talking about tonight, Y/N, I’m talking about the last few weeks! When was the last time we even had a conversation, huh? I bet you can’t even remember that.”

In actual fact, you remembered perfectly. Never once could you forget a single encounter with that man. Your last encounter was a Thursday evening. You had come in from a day out with some old friends. However, with your light-headedness you couldn’t quite recall what the conversation was about.

“Y/N?!” Steve snapped you out of your recollection. “Are you gonna answer my question? Why have you been avoiding me?”

Oh god, here it comes. Drunken confessions. Word vomit. You knew you’d regret this once sober but maybe he’d understand. Maybe he’d even feel the same.

“I-I...”

Steve stood glaring at you. Even angry he was gorgeous. Every bit of him. He was extremely distracting, not helping the situation at all.

“I’m trying to get over you, okay?” You spat out, anger entering your chest as you did so. That was your secret. Vulnerability absorbed into your skin after those words left your mouth. Even more absorbed as you realised Steve’s wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“You’re what?” He mumbled.

“Really, Steve? You’re so naive! I’ve been flirting with you for months and you never did anything. So, instead of moping around I went out on hundreds of dates and tried avoiding you, alright?”

Steve didn’t reply, too shocked. You felt like he’d just punched your gut with the silence.

“I know it sounds sad and stupid. I’m sorry, I didn’t want you t find out like this...or ever, if I’m honest.”

“You’ve liked me all this time?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the floor before you. Steve’s heart sored at your words; he would have never believed you felt the same as him. Stepping forward, he placed a finger under your chin and brought your face up to find his.

“Y/N, I feel the same way. I just didn’t act on it because I thought it might be awkward for the team. I’m sorry, too, that I had to find out this way. I should have asked you out months ago,” he smiled at you, leaning down towards you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unbelieving that this man felt the same as you. All time time you thought your feelings were one-sided. Thank the lord that he felt the same.

Only now did you realise how close your faces were to each other. At last, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Steve’s lips were soft. Silky. Sweet. He was gentle. Loving. Passionate. His hand reached your hip, stroking small circles atop it.

He, finally, broke the kiss to get some air. He leaned his forehead against yours, gazing at your lips. His breathing was deeper now, lustful. Both your breathing was.

“So, are you finally gonna ask a girl out?” You smirked at him.

Steve chuckled, “you read my mind. Let me buy you something to soak up all that alcohol you had and we can discuss a date.”

Tag list: @xmarveled @scuzmunkie