#and sharing a tiny room with 3 strangers was stressful or not

[blatterpussbunnyfromhell]

I missed two trains in Paris over the weekend because of the train stations' lack of accessibility. My friend and I missed the Eurostar on saturday and had to wait for the next one. And tonight I missed my train home because the underground lifts were not working and I couldn't take the RER to right train station and had to be escorted outside to a bus by 3 SNCF security agents, which was quite a surreal and unexpected experience. Several people asked me if I needed assistance or wanted to "help" me while I was just minding my own business.

My friend and I stayed about only 30 hours in London this weekend, and were only mildly inconvenienced by ableism/lack of accessibility once. Once.

[galeorderbride]

Seriously, I am blessed <3 this blog was meant to be a tiny little corner that maybe 10 people followed lol. I'm so glad to be wrong because I got to connect with so many wonderful people here :)

I made a poll for a 100 follower milestone oneshot, and the winner was (of course lol) Gale fluff/smut. I've finally finished it, and I seriously hope everyone likes it because I made it for you!

So, can't stress this enough, 18+ MDNI

Oh, and it's not beta read. I will edit later lol if there are any mistakes

Fic (and warnings/description) under the cut and can be viewed on ao3 if you prefer.

Welcome Home

Gale Dekarios x F!Tav 18+ MDNI

Words: 5.2k

Rating: Explicit for graphic smut, piv sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), fingering, creampie, soft!dom Gale, use of pet names (sweet girl, love, etc), light choking with fingers. Fluffy and romantic :)

Summary: Gale and Tav spend their first night in Waterdeep postgame, and he wants to make her feel welcome :)

...

Funny how in the entire, months long adventure against all dangers known to the Sword Coast, the one memory that stuck to Tav the most was meeting Gale. Pulling him out of an unstable portal, the lure of his bright, scholarly voice calling her ‘friend’ in the first fifty words. Little did she know, he spoke to her a prophecy. From that moment on, Tav and Gale spent all their time together, getting lost in his conceptual monologues and trading books as a solace against the ever present violence. 

In between the lines of borrowed books and stolen glances, falling in love was inevitable. From an unexpected kinship, to touching friendship and eventual passionate romance had been the one blessing in such a strenuous journey. Locked in the expectation of each other, eager for the night to fall, for the candlelight to illuminate the azure of Gale’s tent as an open door. A routine after each near death experience, to share two bedrolls squished together and become expert in the ways of making love without bruising their skin on the hard ground below. They were a proper couple by the journey’s conclusion, soaked in love and devotion, ready for the permanency of their relationship to finally bloom with the defeat of the Elder Brain. 

Their affections made clear and official when Gale proposed the evening after the city had been saved. 

One would think with all that familiarity that Tav would have no problem arriving in Waterdeep with her new betrothed. Settling into each other never came easier back in those wretched patches they called camp. Effortless to just exist with confidence. But as soon as Gale and her crossed the threshold into his towers, she felt like a stranger to him. Unsure of what the proper action might be, to the point where she found herself afraid to remove her cloak. 

Everything felt foreign. As if she’d never been anywhere but on the road, either to Moonrise or Baldur’s Gate. The tower was new, of course, but even her clothes felt odd. Clad in a woollen skirt and forest green blouse instead of armour. Hair down and well groomed rather than pulled back for outdoor convenience. Skin clean and devoid of bruises and cuts. As ridiculous as it may sound, she forgot how to be anything else but a scrapping adventurer. And to be in a lavish tower full of every amenity she could dream of, alone in the start of domestic bliss with her beautiful partner. Something so commonplace, yet completely implausible to her. 

“Your palace awaits, dearest,” Gale said, presenting her the main room of the tower with that comical charisma impervious to awkwardness. 

Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Hair tied back in a half up style and an ivory button down held tight against his body with brand new suspenders. Healthy and happy, soon to be free of the orb and all the consequences along with it. Tav had never seen him so elated. He simply glowed with the promise of their love. The promise of peace. 

Tav smiled, the stretch of her lips failing to reach her eyes as she pondered about the tower. Distracting herself with the warm toned decor of brown leather couches and exposed stone walls. Gale magically lit the fireplace at the centre of it all, warming them against the cooling weather of late Uktar, made colder by the tidal winds of Waterdeep. She wanted to say something charming, but couldn’t find the words. 

“I’m sorry, Gale, I’m—a bit nervous. Not certain why, this should all be so normal but…oh, I don’t know,” she said, scoffing at herself. 

Gale stepped close to her, wearing that affectionate, closed-mouth smile he always did when she needed reassurance. Strong, sculpted hands found their way to her arms, squeezing just hard enough to ensure her eyes stayed on his. Shivers down her spine juxtaposing with the growing warmth of the fire. 

“This isn’t exactly normal for us, hmm? Accustomed to living under the impression that we may die the next morning, worried about whether we’d turn into illithid or get done in by Bhaalists. Not much time for the soothing hum of what we once missed,” he said, caressing the sides of her arms lightly. “Fret not, I’m a little unsure, myself. We’ll adjust. How about a glass of wine?” 

Tav felt eased by his touch, and his offer for something to take the edge off. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

Placing a small kiss on her forehead, he said, “Have a seat by the fire, my love. I’ll prepare the finest blend in my cellar.” 

Gale bustled about in the concealed kitchen as Tav settled herself on the sofa closest to the windows, enlivening the living room with maroon and yellow stained glass and piles of books on their sills. Everything there was to know about him existed within these walls, the tower containing his very life breath. Excitement beat through her heart as she contemplated all the things he had not thought to tell her, waiting to be found in every corner. Silly things like unfinished poems and a favourite paper weight, if he played different songs on the piano at different times of day. All in between that she was meant to spend her life learning with him. 

“Athkatlan clarry,” Gale said as he walked into the living room with two goblets and an intricate, tall bottle of mulled wine. “I’ve been thinking about this blend since we first cooked together. How you loved those darker spices, cloves and peppercorns, and your admiration for the blackberry sauce I made. How I hoped I’d be able to share this particular bottle with you. I’m glad that dream has come true.” 

Notes of thyme and cherry touched her lips before the wine blanched her tastebuds with the heavenly taste of vanilla. Warm, mirthy flavours that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The soft happiness of being thought of enough that he had a wine decision months before they could even pop the cork. That was simply Gale; he had a way of making her feel like the only person in the realms.  

“You had my tastes down so early,” she said. “I can’t possibly compete.” 

“Don’t think of it as a competition. You’ve never been to Waterdeep, have no family or friends here, and yet you still came here with me when I asked you. For that, the least I can do is think of a wine to match your tastes,” he said. 

Tav smiled, confident enough to rest her hand on top of his, “Where you go, I go. That was decided the same day you chose this wine for me.” 

Neither of them noticed how close they’d drawn, each sip of their wine leading them nearer and nearer. The sides of their thighs touching, Gale’s arm lingering behind her back, ready to snake his arm around her waist. Her hand still held his, comfortably resting on his lap. That beckoning look in his eye had Tav spellbound, the seductive leer ending in the corners of his lips, stretched to a subtle, desirous smile. An expression incapable of feigning innocence, pooling with a tender but heated want. 

Gale slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, peppering soft kisses against each knuckle grazing against his beard. Tav’s stomach tightened, tingling with sensations of desire. Heat from the fire sunk into already burning skin and the warm blush of the wine in her blood. She often wondered if he did magic when he touched her like this, rendering her still and speechless. Her pride would never let her ask him, lest she find out the actual answer and prove to the world that she really was just a fool for him. 

“Come here,” he said with his lips grazing her fingers, “Let me kiss you.” 

Soft lips found hers as Gale finally let that hovering arm wrap around her waist. Unburdening her nerves with every caress of his palm against her back, slowly but surely finding its way under her blouse. Fingertips grazed her spine, counting each inch from the base to the top. His other pressed against her cheek, holding her close. Tav melted under his kiss, a light tickle between her legs as he slipped the tip of his tongue inside her mouth. Not too much, just enough to ease them into a gentle make out. Gale never rushed. He enjoyed playing with her, feeling the warm wetness of her lips, the amused yelp when he nipped at the fragile tissue, all the ways to get her body to lean into his. And it always worked, proven by the hook of her leg over his thighs, the silken heat of her core driving him. 

Tav could’ve stayed like that for ages, able to forget the world around her with his passionate kissing. He always said he could do better, develop his technique after being out of practise for so long. But even the first time, tucked away in that starry illusion he conjured, it was the best she ever had. 

“You deserve to be worshipped every single day, my dearest love. But tonight, especially. For the first time, we are home. This is your home, if you’ll have it. I want everything to be perfect,” he said, mouth still hovering over hers. The taste of his breath on her tongue, laced with vanilla wine and spearmint. 

“Oh, Gale, you’ve done so much to make me feel welcome. Things are already perfect,” Tav said. 

“Then let’s make perfect last. Come with me upstairs, there’s more I’d like to show you,” he said. 

Hand-in-hand, they left the living room and walked up the spiralling steps to the second level of his tower. Tapestries of different scenes hanging on the wall, all with accents of florals, latticework and myths of great heroes of history. Candlelit sconces lighting their way up. Nothing short of a fairytale, as if she was wandering the castle of a magical prince. Well, in a way, she was. 

Somehow, she imagined the study he showed her on their first night together. The very centre from which he cultivated his life before meeting her. But he led her through a different door, one leading to a spacious, well kept bedroom. A king-sized four poster bed against the furthest wall, a closed terrace with beautiful double doors. Night projected from the moonlit glass, droplets of rain beginning to patter against the panes. Another fireplace sat adjacent to the bed, lit amongst intricate stone just like the one downstairs. In front, two armchairs and a circular rug, different shades of dark red sewn in an intricate style. 

“Oh my goodness, don’t tell me this is your bedroom? You wizards do like to live lavishly,” Tav said as he led her into the room. She stood in the middle, craning her neck to see every hanged painting and arcane trinket on each surface. Even after looking two or three times, there was something else to see. 

“To tell the truth, the luxury of the room isn’t for me. Not really. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate fine decor and comfort. But most nights, I just fell asleep in my study. I wanted this to be something to share, to be a shelter of beauty and warmth for the one I love. Now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to close the books at the end of the night,” he explained, joining her where she stood and holding her close. 

Tav smiled, running her hands up his chest and landing at his shoulders. The soft cotton of his button down like a cool breeze against her palms. Both his arms were snug around her waist, swaying her lightly in place. 

“I regret to inform you that neither room will be offering much sleep, Mr. Dekarios,” she said, craning her head up to meet his lips in a soft, chaste kiss. “Not if I’m in here.” 

“Oh, believe me, sleep was never an option,” He said, grinning between kisses that deepened with each smack of their lips together. “Tonight, let me welcome you to your new home. Show you the splendours of this tower and all the magic it can provide—in the mortal way, of course.” 

Teasing him was all she could think to do to temper the giddiness within her. His poetic charm folding her stomach upside down. “Don’t be too fantastic, or I’ll start asking for it every night.” 

“Hmm, a threat or a promise?” He asked, but there was no need for an answer. 

Words were nothing compared to the sultry kiss he gave her, deepened with the slide of his tongue along her bottom lip and a soft moan crackling from Gale’s throat. This was the start of their lives together, away from danger and unpredictability. Beginning with a simple kiss in the middle of the bedroom that would be theirs forever. 

“Now, darling, you have a choice,” he said to her, turning her body so her back pressed against his chest, his hands caressing her arms, shoulders and collarbone, just barely avoiding the peak of her covered breasts. His stubble tickled against her bare cheek, unable to resist planting little kisses along the side of his jaw as he moved her around. 

He continued, “Armchair or bed?” 

Tav’s entire body wanted to erupt in embarrassing giggles, but managed to keep her cool as she took a long, drawn out breath. “What exactly am I choosing these for?” 

“Choose,” he demanded. 

She bit her bottom lip, tempted by the tender warmth of the firelight, “Armchair.” 

He moved her body a couple steps to face the chair, whispering in her ear, “In that case, I’m going to get you naked now. And then, I’m going to make you cum on the armchair. All well and good, sweet girl?” 

Every part of her tingled at the sound of such a pet name. At this point, she’d have let him do just about anything he wanted. Her voice shook with anticipation, “Oh yes, all well and good.” 

Gale began with the small buttons on her blouse, keeping her back to him. As his fingers undid each one, he kissed the side of her neck, the sound of his lips sucking and licking at her skin fluttering in her ears. Tav reveled in the shots of warm air as her shirt opened more and more, all the way until Gale pulled the fabric from her shoulders. A simple, cream coloured bra kept her covered, until he snapped the clasp off with expert precision, freeing her breasts for him to squeeze and knead. Tav sighed deeply, letting her head fall into the crux of his shoulder while his fingertips teased around her hardening nipples. Tracing the little buds and continuing to kiss her neck at the same time, so fervent that a trail of saliva dripped from his mouth down her skin. It was positively debauched, and yet so filled with devotion and love. His hands never allowed a part of her to go untouched, not even trying to seem like he wasn’t falling apart for her in an instant. 

Letting go of her breasts, he let his hands trail to the belt of her wool skirt, chafing against her bare waist. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear now, simple affirmations like ‘beautiful’, ‘magnificent’, ‘my entire universe’. Tav could listen to him all night, just lying in his arms while he shuddered every adjective to describe her humanly possible. But not now, as he tucked his thumbs into the skirt and gently pulled the fabric off her rounded hips. He played with the lace of the matching underwear to her now discarded bra, letting his palms wander from the hem of the panties to her butt, squishing the soft flesh. 

“How can something be so soft? You defy the greatest alchemists with the way you’ve been sculpted,” he said, giving her a playful pinch on her left cheek. Tav couldn’t stop that giggle, jumping forward as she felt the ticklish sting. A little distraction so he could bend down and pull off the last bit of clothing she had, now fully naked in the middle of his bedroom. Their bedroom.  

“Shall I take a seat?” She asked, motioning towards the armchair. 

“Mmm, yes please. So obedient, I don’t even have to tell you where to go. Seems you left your stubbornness in Baldur’s Gate,” he said, watching closely as her hips swayed in her walk to the chair. Each second he was blessed to witness her, she became more beautiful. Magic not even he could conjure. Intertwined so strikingly with the glittering veins of her soul. 

Tav giggled, sitting on the chair with her knees tucked to her chest, as if hiding her body from the man who’d seen it countless times now. “Trust me, when I get more comfortable here, I’ll be back to my normal, argumentative self.” 

Gale smirked, stepping in front of the chair, towering over her sitting form. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, my love. But I’ll not tolerate closed legs in this bedroom, dearest. Open up.” 

With a quick motion of his finger, a magical, invisible force pried her legs open on the chair. Tav gasped as she felt the soles of her feet drag along the velvet fabric. The cool air kissed the surface of her core, already wet with desire before he’d even touched her. How could she not, when exposed to the ethereal beauty of Gale. The absolute picture of perfection to her, with his flowing chestnut hair lined with grey, his toned torso glistening under candlelight as he slipped off his shirt. He was impossible not to look at, as if he walked out of a classical painting. 

Firelight glowed against her skin, her muscles melting into the comfort of the chair as she watched her beloved smirk at her. Eager tingles danced across her palms, yearning to touch his bare torso, feel the prickle of his body hair, kiss the orb tattoo that would soon heal away forever. Addicted to caressing her body against his own, coated with hot sweat as she imagined him everywhere on her, inside her. The craving was too much, Tav bringing one hand to knead her breast and the other down to her clit, gently rubbing the sensitive tip between her index and middle finger.

That is, until Gale lowered to his knees in front of her and moved her hand away. He grasped her wrist, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and shoving them inside for her to eagerly suck. 

“No no, sweet girl,” he said, clicking his tongue, “Keep those fingers in your mouth. Let me make you cum.” 

“Oh, Gale,” she said through her fingers, still prodding at her tongue, “Please…” 

“Aww, please? Please what?” He asked, his voice dark with lust as he inched his face closer between her legs, enough to feel the chill of his breath blowing against her clit. Tav exhaled, craning her head back as she fought the pulsing desire to be filled, licked and sucked until she was ruined. 

“P-please make me cum, Gale,” she said, taking her fingers out of her mouth as she spoke. 

He raised a brow at her, distancing his head back as he said, “Put those fingers back, beautiful. And then I’ll do exactly what you want.” 

They never had much time during their journey to enjoy themselves for a while. To let Gale take his time in pleasing her, demanding things of her. Tav felt even more blessed than she already did to be here with him, where they could spend the night adoring each other, exploring every way to make love. This, though, seeing Gale confident and assertive, would definitely be a favourite. 

Placing her fingers back in her mouth, letting him watch as she poked and prodded at her tongue and throat. A muffled, heart stopping growl emanated from him as he neared her pussy again, letting a trail of saliva fall from his lips, sinking onto her clit. All she could do was whimper, her inner thighs shaking as he finally trailed his tongue all across her slit. Using the tips of his thumbs to spread her open as he gently wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and kissing at the sensitive bud to keep her irresistible sounds in his ears. Mixing with his own moans, debauched with the slick of her essence drenching his beard. 

Gale loved pressing at the soft flesh of her pussy with his thumbs, giving in to the temptation and pushing one inside of her. Continuing to lap at her clit, feeling it swell against his tongue as she drew closer to climax. He couldn’t help but smile every time she bucked her hips into him, using her free hand to clutch the arm of the chair while she struggled to keep sucking her fingers. Gods, sometimes she’d get carried away, and he’d hear a little gag from her throat, driving him further into her cunt. 

“Gods above, that feels so good! I’m close…so close,” she exclaimed through her filled mouth, concentrating on the intense precipice she balanced on. Her hips grinding against him, nearly screaming at the sensation of his lips slurping at her clit. Only a few more seconds went by before an orgasm snapped through her insides, hooking her legs over his shoulders and crying out his name. “Gale! Gale! Ugh…” 

The paradise of tasting her was unmatched to any other experience. Floral, buttery notes along his tongue as he used the tip to lightly trace across her clit, shaking from overstimulation. Gale replaced her fingers with the thumb that thrusted in her pussy, sharing in the flavour of her orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he said, “You taste amazing, I could survive on your cunt alone. Always doing so well for me, but I need to see it again, alright?” 

Tav’s sigh was breathless, wheezing with pleasure as she came down from the intense climax. She didn’t even have time to answer before he hugged his arms around her hips, scooping her legs around his waist to lift her off the chair. Limp in his arms, she began to kiss across his neck, licking and sucking to the point of marks. More desire between her legs when he’d groan in her ear, or shudder at the sensation of her nails gently scratching down his back. 

Silk sheets met her backside as he lowered her down to the mattress. Plunged into even more comfort, certain she’d never experienced a softer bed. Her arms stretched above her head, letting Gale do whatever he wanted to her. Staring at her, he never allowed his eyes to part as he undid the buckle of his belt, removing his trousers. Tav bit her lip when his cock sprang free, thick and hard with the slick of precum dotting the tip. 

“Let me touch it,” she begged, remembering she’d get what she wanted if she was polite, “Please.” 

Gale laughed, that flirtatious scoff he did when he knew he was a step ahead. Circling her like prey, driven to madness by the beauty of Tav. He couldn’t believe she wanted to be with him, stay with him for the rest of their lives. A silent vow in his head that swore he’d do everything to show how thankful he was. She’d given him the greatest reward a person could ever ask for. 

“So pretty when you’re begging for my cock,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind her. Positioning himself so his waist aligned with her face. Gale shook with arousal when he witnessed her licking her lips, eyes glued to the head. He asked her, “Do you want to taste me, dearest?” 

Tav nodded, moving her neck forward to envelop her mouth along the head of his cock. Gently caressing the tip with her lips, rimming the tip of her tongue along the sensitive ridge. He shuddered, almost cumming down her throat right there, just enough strength to resist. This was her time, and once was never enough for Gale. He traced his fingertips down her body, stopping to pinch her nipples and graze her inner thighs before sliding two into her cunt. She yelped in surprise, lowering her mouth to capture his shaft deeper. 

“Suck me all you want, but focus on finishing for me again, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to see it again. Can you do that for me?” He said, voice sensual and darker than his usual tone. Overtaken by extreme lust and the biting need to fill every part of her with his seed. 

Tav nodded with him still in her mouth, her oral fixation kicking in as she felt herself working towards a second climax just because she felt him gently fucking her throat. Combining with the hot, delicate pleasure of him thrusting his fingers inside of her. Massaging her clit with his thumb in perfect circles, hitting every spot she loved. He used his free hand to hold her head on his lap, playing with her sweat-laden hair. 

“Oh gods above, Tav! You give me more than I could ever imagine,” he said, throwing his head back as he relished in the pleasure of her tongue lolling around his cock. “Come for me, my goddess. So perfect, all for me. All for me.” 

Gale’s cock popped out of her mouth as she gasped in ecstasy, a second orgasm blossoming in her core when his fingers hit just the right spot. Her already soaking cunt dripping onto his hand, body hot with sweat and spasming muscles. During her come down, she flicked her tongue along the tip of his cock, tasting the faint saltiness of his precum. Hooked on the sounds of his shaken breath as he laughed with terrifyingly seductive satisfaction. 

Warmth covered her back, so heated and shaken she created her own heatwave. Between heavy breaths, she said, “Flip me over, please? It’s too hot.” 

“What impeccable timing for you to say that. I’m going to fuck you now, love,” he said, quickly grabbing her waist and flipping her to her stomach in one, effortless swoop. Her head hung slightly off the foot of the bed, smiling to herself as she felt Gale move his body between her legs. His cock grinding against her core from behind. 

Kisses trailed down her spine, a calm moan leaving her lips in enjoyment. Giggling as he nipped at her shoulders and scrunched her hair in his fist, pulling just hard enough for a tickling sting. He used his hold on her hair to turn her head, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate, burning make out. Pushing his tongue against hers with unbridled, sultry moans. Never over the taste of him, the scent of him, the weight of him, everything forever. 

“Gale, please, I can’t take it anymore. More, more,” she begged, happily overwhelmed by the wet kisses he spread all over her face. 

“More what, my dear? Use your words,” he whispered, biting and sucking at her earlobe. Tav’s legs bent in desperation as he pressed his rock solid cock at her entrance, teasing the slit but never penetrating. Just pushing the tip, teasing and teasing until she reached the point of crudeness he wanted her to be. 

“Mmm put your cock in me, Gale. I want to come again, please!” She cried out, voice high and tired. 

Allowing him to take control meant more than simply wanting to be submissive during love making. After months of constant fear of death, violence and all other forms of danger, the two of them could finally be vulnerable. Open themselves to one another in any way they liked, for as long as they wished. The very comfort Gale wanted to give her when they arrived at his tower, a beginning of a thousand nights of passion, tenderness and joy. And a thousand more after that. 

“I love you so much, my heart. My soul. You are just…everything to me,” he said, body melting into hers as he slipped his cock inside. Slow, tight stretching conquering every nerve in her body. Endless pleasure in the feeling of being completely taken over by him, his chest against her back as he began to thrust into her stimulated cunt. His hand clutching her ass feverishly. 

“I love you, Gale, please don’t stop! I’m…gonna…” 

Tav couldn’t finish a sentence, not when the wet stretch of his cock thrusting into her kept going and going. His pace was strong yet loving as he kissed every part of her he could reach. Hands holding her head for support. He wanted badly for her to finish again, one more time before he found his own release. There wasn’t much left of him, his cock twitching between her vibrating walls sucking him deeper and deeper. 

There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel something. Clit rubbing against the soft sheets while he pounded into her, languishing within as she felt his rhythm changing the closer he got. Each time he moved, his moans grew into desperate, pleasured whimpers. A sound like paradise to her ears, bringing her nearer to that final climax. Paralyzed under him as she let herself drown in bliss, going silent as her body quaked in orgasm. Muscles tightening with that weaker but heavenly spasm, her mind couldn’t believe he had driven her to such a high. 

“Ohhh, yes, good girl! Finishing so good for me like that, three times. I’m going to make you mine, my love. Make love to your cunt until I cum deep inside you,” he said, growling in her ear like a feral beast. An irresistible side of him, made even better when knowing she was the only person who’d get to see it. 

Both of them moaned in tandem as Gale spilled inside of her, hanging his head in the crux of her neck and shoulder as he held her tighter than ever. Full body tingles coursed through Tav, drunk on the ecstasy of being the vessel for his pleasure. Feeling him soften inside her while he peppered kisses along her back. 

“Welcome home, my love,” he said, tone gentler as he came down from lust. He turned over, laying beside her as their hair hung off the foot of the mattress. 

“You’re quite the host, Mr. Dekarios. Do you do that with all your guests?” She asked with a sly grin. 

Gale wrapped his arms around her shoulders, snuggling their bodies together as he kissed the side of her head. “You’re not a guest, my love. This is your home, as much as it is mine. I’ll spend a thousand days and nights telling you that if I must.” 

Tav hooked her leg across his waist, ignoring the warmth and sweat of their skin so she could be close to him. Be taken to that paradise unique to her beloved wizard. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[bloodhoundluke]

for the love of strange medicine ✧ luke hemmings

pairing: luke hemmings x friend! reader

description: luke loves y/n in secret and his flirty comments make y/n's head spin. after calum's party, y/n finally gets an answer to luke's strange behavior.

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing. please let me know if there’s anything else.

word count: 2,7k. a/n: hi there! this won the poll, the title was supposed to be 'it's impossible to ignore you' but i like for the love of strange medicine more :) i'm a bit rusty so please forgive me <33 and because i loved writing this so much, i think i'll do a pt. 2 to this!

The Californian sky was covered in haze that one Thursday. Luke stared at the cafe arguably named after a Steve Perry song: For the Love of Strange Medicine. It was fitting since Luke basically considered coffee to be his medicine, not to mention the delicious pretzels he had bought from the very same cafe a few days ago.

Luke rubbed his eyes and yawned, taking in the last smokes of the cigarette he had been inhaling on for the last three minutes. He swore to himself that it would be the last day he'd smoke. It wasn't. He pulled his phone out: 6:58am. He hated early mornings, and he hated how the cafe still wasn't open. Two more minutes, he told himself. He was growing impatient. Maybe it was the stress of recording a new album, maybe it was the fight he had with the manager last night.

When the clock hit 7am, you opened up the cafe. You gave Luke a soft yet tiresome smile which screamed It’s too damn early for this and he returned the favor. Luke saw the name tag on your black t-shirt: Y/N.

As time went by, Luke visited the cafe several times in an attempt to see your face again. To his misfortune, you weren’t working during any of those shifts. You had cut down your hours because of the intense lecture schedule. Luckily for Luke, you bumped into each other at a local festival while you both were watching Green Day play.

Your and Luke's friend groups emerged that night and you enjoyed his company too much for your own liking. You didn’t do men. You didn’t hang around them. Not even as friends. They all caused trouble for you. But with him, everything was different somehow. The night ended with you and Luke in your hotel room. There was nothing sexual about that night if not counting your lingering gazes at each other. You and Luke stayed up until seven in the morning, sharing your love of Green Day and Stranger Things, and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Luke and you started to grow closer since spending time together. It had been nearly 3 months since you had met and you felt as if you've known him for your whole life. Then Luke went on tour and he didn't want to believe he couldn't see your face as frequently anymore. You made him feel seen and most importantly, safe.

One time Ashton, Calum and Michael caught Luke looking at your Instagram pictures before a show. The boys couldn’t let it go and stop teasing about the way he was biting his lip nervously while scrolling through your Instagram page. Luke convinced them there was nothing to tease about. You were just friends, and that’s the way it would always be. Your lives were so different from each other; you, a part-time barista and a university student and Luke, a touring rockstar. It could never work.

You tried to forget your feelings for your friend, you really did. But you couldn't. Every corner of your flat and everyone you met reminded you of Luke. Even if it was someone’s blonde hair or a tiny detail in their jacket. Everyday activities such as going grocery shopping which you normally enjoyed couldn’t get him off your mind. You’d see the Australian-grown coffee beans. Boom, Luke. Lavender-scented laundry detergent he used. Luke again. And the fact that Luke texted you every day didn't help in the process of trying to forget the feelings you had for him.

—❦

You were attending a party tonight. But not just any party, Calum's party. His parties were known for a good time and endless bottles of free booze.

You wiggled on your black leather dress, which you had just bought. It barely covered your knees and you loved how it hugged you from all the right places. The combo of the leather dress, red lipstick and curly hair gave you all the confidence you needed to go out tonight and see Luke. Yes, he was your friend but you still felt nervous around him. And you blamed him for that. His James Dean glossy eyes and irresistibly long curly hair. His charm and his stupid dad jokes. You were whipped for him and it was a wonder no one around you noticed that. Or that’s what you thought anyway. 

You recall the last time you had seen Luke. He had called you and asked to pick him up from his apartment a week ago. You knocked on his door and saw him with someone. A tall, gorgeous woman. Seeing the model-looking brunette beside Luke made your stomach flip. He seemed so happy with his arms around her waist. Maybe he had met her when he was on tour. You greeted them both and bit the insides of your cheek. That memory reminded you of the time you were helping him to pick out an outfit for him for his date a few weeks ago. Maybe it was for her. He had just returned back home from the tour and the poor man was all over the place. Maybe it was nerves, maybe he was just tired from touring. You imagined how Luke would get ready for your date and ask for assistance from Ashton, Michael and Calum. But that would never happen, so you snapped out of the thought. You were only hurting yourself by having these thoughts. You were such a fool for him, and you didn't know how to make it stop.

You sat down on top of your bed and decided to check Instagram on your phone. “He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint”, you whispered mainly just to yourself. 

“Who are you talking about?”, your friend heard your little comment and frowned their eyebrows.

“Uh….maybe I’ll keep it a secret”, you winked.

“C’mon Y/N!”.

“Okay, I was talking about Timothée Chalamet. He looks so pretty”, was the lie you came up with. You couldn’t tell them you were talking about Luke. You had just seen his new Instagram photo and can’t get over his pretty blue eyes. And his curly locks. And that god-damn jawline. And his….well, everything.

“I know right! Maybe we should go watch the new movie so we’ll have some eye candy”, your friend winked.

“It’s a date”, you laughed.

You were still waiting for Luke to pick you and your two friends up. But he was late, like he always was. You had lectured him about his tendency to be late countless times. But he could never learn, could he? It was needless to say that you were pissed off. 

Twenty minutes rolled by and Luke finally showed up. He offered his apologies to you and your friends. Your friends had already gone out and got themselves seated in the car, while you and Luke were still inside of your flat. Luke needed hairspray to lock his hair in place. Then Luke made his way to the hallway while you were checking that you had everything necessary with you. That one time you forgot your keys back home still haunted you, hence you had to double-check everything now.

“You got everything?”, Luke held the door open for you and the button of his already opened black and white star-patterned collar shirt popped off. “Oops”, he chuckled to himself. He didn’t bother to fix it. Not when he noticed you basically drooling over him. 

“Yeah”, you answered nonchalantly and avoided eye contact with him. You had been on the edge the whole day and Luke being late didn’t exactly make you feel any better.

“I hate that you’re mad at me, but you look so hot right now”, he smirked at you. Luke was always like this with you. He flirted with you and you flirted back when it felt natural. But since he started to hang around the brunette woman - whose name you didn’t even know - you started to think that maybe you should stop flirting back. But you didn’t know if they were exclusive or not. Luke didn’t exactly bother to open up about the romance department in his life. Not to you anyway. 

“Thanks. I like your hair”, you commented. You noted how he saw you fiddling with your bracelet. It was the one Luke won from Push A Prize that one Saturday night in July. Its pearls were your favorite color, blue.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too long?”.

“I think it’s good”.

“Just good? Don’t you mean gorgeous? Perfect?”, the blonde rockstar snarked.

“Shut up”, you slapped his hand gently and giggled.

"You okay?", he asked quietly as you were still fiddling with the bracelet.

"Yep, let's go", you gave Luke a small smile and received a nod in return. You took the passenger seat and he sat next to you and fired the engine.

“Took long enough”, one of your friends commented. “Blame Luke and his Prince Charming hair”, you rolled your eyes and looked at your friends in the backseat, and then at the man beside you.

"Geez, thanks for throwing me under the bus", Luke answered sarcastically, tapped the steering wheel with his fingers and turned the music up. Nickelback, of course.

You arrived at Calum’s house. You were walking side to side with the blondie, hand in hand. It was natural. You gravitated towards each other all the time, but you took it as a sign that you felt comfortable with him. Not just anyone could make you feel this way. 

“We’re in public, you know that right?”, you asked him as he was still holding your hand. You couldn't even count the times people mistook you for a couple, and doing these kinds of things that could be seen as couple-y felt a bit odd for you sometimes.

“Yup”, he popped the p and offered you a cheeky grin.

“So why are you still holding my hand?”, you genuinely asked Luke whose eyes were fixated on the crowd of people mingling.

“Don’t want you to get lost. I know you’re bad at taking directions”, he smirked and saw you looking at him with a questionable look. Those words sounded like honey and you hated yourself for it. Oh, only if he wasn’t as charming as he was. It would make everything so much easier for you.

“Right”, you laughed it off and rolled your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t been to Calum’s house a million times before…

“You should wear that dress more often”, he cooed confidently into your ear and let go of your hand. 

“Okay, Mr. Leather Pants”, you laughed and avoided his eye contact. You disappeared into the sea of people and fixed yourself a drink. You didn't really know what to think about Luke's behavior. He was flirtier than usual and you couldn't pinpoint why. The next few hours were spent by dancing with your friends and having conversations with drunken strangers.

—❦

Later, you noticed Luke navigating through the crowd to get to you. He spent a few minutes explaining how his leather boots got stuck in the mud in Europe while touring and how you would have laughed your ass off if you had seen that. Then, the unimaginable happened and he started spinning you around the dance floor. He had always been a fun drunk, that's for sure. He dropped you down carefully from the air and his hands laid comfortably on your waist. But not for long as the upbeat song shifted into a slow one, a shortened version of Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran. Shit.

You wrapped your hands around his neck almost intuitively. “Fuck it, let’s show them how to dance”, you lifted your left eyebrow and thought of how your hands will be sweaty in under a minute. Or twenty seconds, if you were being completely honest.

Luke placed his ring-covered hands, noticeably bigger than yours, back to your waist. “We’re so much better at this than these amateurs”, he looked deeply into your eyes and it felt like he scanned every little feature in your face. It felt intimidating. Being that close to Luke. Being that close with Luke.

“You should definitely consider Dancing with the Stars”, you commented and smiled as you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.

“You reckon?”, his eyes lit up and it's like you could almost see a blush creeping upon his cheeks.

“I see the UK accent has made a mark on you. Has a nice ring to it”, you confessed as you slow danced with your best friend.

“Thanks to you, ms. English Love Affair", Luke gave you a dirty look and chuckled semi-nervously afterwards.

"Oh, you wish", you replied with a nervous giggle and you two continued dancing in silence.

—❦

At 3am the party seems to die out and as usual, Luke walks you to your apartment. About half of the 15 minute walk you have talked about utter nonsense, like how many squirrels Luke saw during the tour and how many latte macchiatos you did during the time he was away.

“Can I ask you a question?", you asked as your heels clacked along the concrete.

“Sure”, Luke answers almost instantly, coughing afterwards.

“You were flirting with me the whole night and…”, you started your monologue which you had planned during the party.

“That’s not a question”, he interrupted and gave you a wink.

“Let me finish, you dumbass”, you answered, your tone being a mixture of playful and irritated.

He zipped his mouth and smiled back at you. You were standing in the front of your apartment, feeling a little cold in the chilly autumn air.

“I just wonder…why?”.

“Don’t we do that, like, all the time?”, he chuckled and stared down at his hands, then scanning your face for a while.

“I guess so, yeah. But it’s innocent. It wasn’t like that today. Or am I crazy? Am I imagining this? Please tell me it was just my imagination, I can- ”, you explained and could already feel how humiliated you'd feel soon.

“I don’t really like to tell you to shut up, but just for once, shhh Y/N. It wasn’t just you”, he took a step closer to you and placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I like you. Definitely have for a while. Maybe the whole time I’ve known you. I like spending time with you. You are the funniest person I know. And you give the best fashion advice. And beneath that sarcastic exterior is such a soft and empathetic soul. You don’t brag about your kindness, which makes it real. And I could talk to you for hours and never get bored. And for you, I would do the dishes happily. Believe it or not, no one has ever managed to bring out that side of me”, he chuckled as you remain speechless. His sudden declaration of love - well maybe not love, interest perhaps - made you grin like a child who just got a new toy.

“And shit, Y/N, I just adore you. And the way your laugh reminds me of home. I lo-, like how you play with your earrings when you are nervous. It’s adorable. And I-”,

“I don’t need to hear a novel of how much you like me, Luke”, you interrupted him.

“I know, but you deserve it”, he spoke softly and his lips turned into the classic Luke smile, which you found incredibly sweet.

“Save it for later”, you took a long look at those eyes that reminded you of the ocean and down to his pink and plump lips which you had dreamt of kissing for so long. 

And then it happened. His lips were pressed against yours, making the time stop for a while. And his hands in your hair, tugging them slightly, not enough to hurt. Your fingers held the waistband of his pants. The way he moved his lips against yours was hungry, desperate, full of emotion he had never been able to release. It was electric, enough to make you release a little moan into his mouth.

“What the fuck is happening here?”, you heard all of the sudden and both of you turned to see none other than the Michael Clifford pressed against the door.

“And what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”.

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Old Friends

Summary: You and Natasha were friends in the Red Room, but what happens when you meet outside it?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader

Word Count: 3234

Warnings: Mentions of murder and Red Room stuff

A/N: I was just like, ‘let’s write a fun one shot of Natasha and reader being the Spiderman meme meeting outside the Red Room’, and then wrote so much backstory that that part only takes up a tiny portion.

—————————————————

Most girls in the Red Room had been recruited at 5 years old, others were a bit older. You were 3. There was another girl though, Natasha, taken at the same time, at the same age. Your youth set you at a disadvantage; it was far too easy for the older girls to pick on you both, you were good targets, and they had been taught that kindness got you punished. It was harder to engrain that thought into you and Natasha though, both too young and too trusting to give up on kindness. That trust may not have extended to the adults, but it’s what bonded the two of you together.

Even as you grew up, and were trained to be more vicious, that bond never left, and neither did the memories of kindness. However, by the time you were no longer the youngest widows, you had learnt to hide your friendship. It became obvious that friends would have to fight each other and, if the Madame willed it, fights would end in death. In the halls and in training, Natasha had to be a stranger to you. But at night, in the relative privacy of the dorm, you could sneak into the other’s bed, sitting together and sharing stories of the day.

Aged 8, Natasha disappeared.

You cried through the nights, assuming the worst. It wasn’t uncommon for Widows to disappear. They never came back, because it wasn’t uncommon for Widows to die. There was no way to ask about her, or even find out what truly happened to your only friend. In her absence, you trained harder, taking over Natasha’s spot as top of the class. It had been helpful for her to take that place because the top student only ever got paired with the next best, or the worst if they were feeling particularly cruel. Up to that point, you remained firmly in the middle, ensuring you would never have to be put against her. Since she was gone though, you had nothing to lose. You trained hard to reach the top spot and managed to fight every other Widow with ease.

Aged 11, she returned. 

They put her in a new class upon return, but you caught a glimpse of her while in the dining hall, and knew you had to find her again. It took six nights of searching hallways until you eventually found her. Not in her room, however, but out in the hallway searching for you.

An urgent whisper of your name froze you in place, heart stopping as you thought you’d been caught. But when you turned and saw Natasha, your face immediately broke into a smile, despite everything. You pulled her down the hallway, finding the area which you both knew you could hide in if any guards came.

Now that you were in separate rooms, the act of sneaking to meet each other became a whole lot more difficult, so it became a weekly activity more than a daily one. You both tried to sneak into each other’s room the night before a mission, as they got longer and more frequent. It saved the stress of worrying whether it was a mission or if training had finally gone wrong.

She told you of her mission in Ohio, of the family she had been assigned to live with for three years, only to be sent straight back once the mission was complete. Proudly she shared a photo of her and her sister, making you promise to look out for the younger girl too. They both looked carefree in a way you hadn’t ever seen before, in a way the Red Room didn’t allow. Of course, you agreed to look out for the girl. It wasn’t even a question, anyone Natasha cared for you cared for too.

“I wish you could have come as well” she muttered, already noting the new scars on your body.

You were 23 the night Natasha last snuck into your room. 

“I’ve got a mission tomorrow. In Budapest”

“In Hungary?”

“Yeah”

“...Fancy”

You slapped a hand over her mouth as soon as you replied, knowing Natasha was going to giggle. You grinned when she did, the noise muted so neither the widows nor the guards would hear.

“It’s going to be a long one, a few months at least. I get my own apartment”

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t know yet, they haven’t told me”

“Be safe”

Now it was her turn to grin, “you know I always am”. That was a lie, she came back with several broken ribs the mission before.

“You’ll-” she began, but you interrupted, knowing exactly which question will come next,

“I’ll look after Yelena” you nodded. To the best of your ability at least. No one could ever be truly safe in the Red Room, but the 18-year-old was doing well. She’d completed more missions than even Nat, so really she could take care of herself, but you had to make the promise. A few months, then Natasha would return to keeping watch over her.

A few months stretched to four, then five, and you began to worry. Natasha was efficient, if it was a three-month mission, she would take two. She’d never been on this side of the deadline before. After the Ohio mission, you’d learnt to take matters into your own hands. Found that you could take more risks. So when, half a year on, she still wasn’t back, you snuck into the records room, hoping to find something about what happened on the mission.

Her file was nowhere to be found. She'd been erased completely from the records. She wouldn’t be coming back.

—————————————————

Letting your grief for Natasha show wouldn’t be tolerated. Instead, you once again threw yourself into work, impressing the trainers so much that they sent you on mission after mission. You took them all, until you were offered a way out.

You were shot. One bullet through the shoulder and another above the hip. The agent hadn’t aimed to kill. A foolish move, one that would end in punishment if she were in the Red Room, but it was enough to stop you from performing as you should.

“I can help you” she offered, “no tricks”. She was putting you in handcuffs despite it, but you couldn’t blame her for that. “You’re a Black Widow, yes? You have talent. Prove you’re trustworthy and you can come work for us, do some good with your life.”

It was tempting. You and Natasha had always wanted to do good, but it was a hope that died when you were young. It was too late for you, and you’d promised to look after Yelena.

"This wasn't really a choice" the woman continued, "I want you to help us, I'll even vouch for you. But the only other option is a lifetime in jail, one you won't be able to break out of. I doubt the Russians will like that very much, hmm?"

You glared at the woman for a minute, her demeanour was far too friendly to be dealing with you. It was a front, it had to be. "I'll help" you slurred, the Russian accent suddenly sounding far too out of place compared to her clipped English one.

"Excellent, I'm Emily"

"Y/N"

—————————————————

That had been two years ago. Emily had introduced you to MI6, becoming your mentor and partner as you rose the ranks of the agency. Russian accents tended to draw a bit of attention, so you switched to an English one, more specifically adopting the London accent that surrounded you. At least some skills from the Red Room were useful.

Actually, in your line of business, most of the skills from the Red Room were useful, but you had control of who you used them on now.

"Mission time Y/N/N" Emily called, waving a document in front of your face. You raised an eyebrow at her,

"Do you really have to do that every time? You can't just come in once like 'hey we have a mission' and then just hand me the document?"

"No of course not" she scoffed, "that sounds boring"

"Alright, alright, what is it at least?"

"Well, I can hand you the document and let you read it yourself if you'd prefer" she teased, withholding both the file and the information,

"We both know you'll do that anyway, just summarise it now for me"

"I'm not sure you deserve my summary"

"oh my god, give me the file then"

"impatient today huh?"

"Do you even want me on this mission?" you sighed. Despite the action, your eyes remained playful, and you knew she saw that.

"Fine, fine, okay. Wouldn't be a mission without you" she relented, handing over the document as she began to narrate it. "We're off to America y'all". It was probably the worst imitation of an American accent you'd heard, which was only worse given that she was a spy.

"That was awful, please say you don't have to go undercover"

She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her as she glared at you. With a return to her natural accent she continued, "No. I do not. And I'd be a tourist anyway, accents are your thing"

"No shit" you muttered, just loud enough that she could hear, in your natural accent.

"Anyway, there's some small underground weapons company in Arizona, they've somehow got information on MI6 and they're having a sale Friday night to give it to the highest bidder. I'm going in to find and destroy anything they have, you're going in to threaten the boss and make sure there aren't any backups."

"When are we off?"

"Soon as possible, for obvious reasons the boss isn't keen that we stall on this one"

"Well what are we waiting for then, I've just been sitting here doing nothing anyway"

Grabbing the mission bag from under your desk, you stood and followed your friend out of the building. You worked on the finer details of the plan, obviously speaking in coded language, as you took the familiar route to the airport, getting last-minute economy tickets for the next flight out.

"Nice place" Emily muttered, stepping with you into the hotel MI6 had arranged for you to stay at. "James Bond really glamourised the spy life"

"No doubt, imagine MI6 having the budget to put up with him, so many new cars"

She grumbled an agreement. There were two beds at least, better than usual, even if the windows seemed to be chained shut.

"Sooner we finish this mission, the sooner we get to go home and get out of here"

"Agreed, I say we use jet lag to our advantage, head off at 3 AM maybe? It looks like the boss lives there so you can give a rude wake-up call while I do the rest of it."

"'while I do the rest of it', yeah as if you didn't set the plan, don't make it sound like you're forced to do it all"

She shook her head with a smile but didn't reply, already half asleep.

—————————————————

"Still some people around, but definitely not as busy as it could be, we picked the time wisely" you commented, watching the building from your perch.

"Told you, even villains need to sleep" Emily joked into the comms, listening from the other side of the building,

"Woah, woah, as a former villain myself I take offence to that statement. These are criminals, they're not villain status yet."

"Head in now Y/N, you have your opening" she instructed, then continued, "what makes a villain then?"

Your reply had to wait until you'd finished scaling the roof and then subduing the few guards waiting up there. "I dunno, maybe when MI6 sends someone to arrest you"

"Literally what do you think we are doing right now?"

"You make a good point" you muttered back, sneaking through the stairwell until you came across the room you were after.

Drawing a pistol, you burst in through the door, already targeted at the man's head before he could even sit up. "Hi" you greeted, "just here for a little Q and A, I'd appreciate if you answered honestly because, if not..." you shrugged, putting particular emphasis on waving the gun as you did so.

His eyes were wide in fear and he nodded quickly. "Great," you smiled.

"Uhh, Y/N I think you did something, there's a lot of movement on the lower floor, and security seem to be heading up to you"

You swore, scowling at the man, "did you do something, emergency button or anything?"

"No, I promise I didn't, I-"

The door burst open again and you swivelled, aiming at the newcomer, only to find her already aiming at you. And, to realise you knew her.

"Natasha?" you questioned, not lowering the weapon. If she really hadn't died, as seemed to be the case, then there was every possibility that she was still with the Red Room. She could have been assigned to protect the man until the information exchange was done, or maybe to kill you, the defector, it was all a possibility and you couldn't rely on being an old friend to save you.

"Y/N" she nodded coolly. If she was surprised to see you, she didn't give it away, so perhaps she really had been sent to kill you.

"Long time, no see"

"I was just about to say the same"

Any incorrect move and there was a chance she'd shoot. And Natasha never missed.

"So, you on a mission?" she asked first, just before you could.

"Yep"

"You have an English accent"

"You have an American one"

"We're in America"

"So we are"

That would explain the accent, it could be part of an undercover mission from her.

"You move to England or something?"

"yeah, a couple of years ago"

"When the Red Room went down?"

For the first time that night your hold faltered, "what?"

"Is that what you did after the Red Room went down?" she reiterated, making it no clearer for you,

"The Red Room never went down"

Her grip tightened and you worried you'd said the wrong thing. But if she thought it was gone, then that meant she must not have been sent by the Red Room, right? So she must have defected, same as you.

"Y/N, put your gun down, she's with SHIELD" Emily's voice finally sounded, though she seemed out of breath. Natasha cocked her head as well, eyes suddenly widening.

“That was an awful British accent, Clint, accents are my thing” she muttered quickly, before returning her focus to you,

"You're with SHIELD", "You're with MI6", you said synchronously, both lowering your weapons due to the reveal.

"You got a friend outside?" you guessed, assuming they must have met up with Emily and discussed it in a less threatening way than you and Natasha were going about it.

"Yeah, Clint, recruited me in Budapest and helped me defect"

"I thought you died there"

"I thought we freed you. I killed Dreykov"

You shook your head, "they upgraded, made it harder to find, but it's still going. I got the opportunity to defect about a year after you left, I took it."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly processing that her mission had failed, before turning to the man you'd almost forgotten was in the room, "so I assume you're here to question this guy"

"about the information leaks?"

"You wanna do it together? I've heard two widows are better than one"

"It would be a pleasure"

"Oh my god you don't have to do anything, I'll tell you whatever you want" the man folded. You turned to Natasha, seeing a reflection of your own expression in her frown.

"Well that was boring"

"Agreed"

"Who cares if it's boring, just get the information and we can go home, everything else has already been destroyed" a man's voice came through the comms, you assumed it was Clint.

"I kind of care that it's boring" Emily retaliated, "but, yeah, what he said Y/N"

Natasha smirked, "I like your friend"

"OK, alright," you asked, "do you have backup copies of the information and where are they?"

"Yeah, there's a USB in the top drawer, and also one in the office downstairs, but that's it. Our customers don't like us taking precautions"

"We blew up the office downstairs so I don't think there's much to worry about there," Emily said, and you could hear her grin through voice alone.

"Of course you did" you sighed, moving to check the top drawer. You and Natasha fell into your old rhythm, with her targeting the man as you searched, just to make sure he didn't try anything.

"He's telling the truth, right Nat?" you asked, he seemed to be, but she was always the better tell of these things.

"Yeah, unless he's really good, but I doubt that"

"Great, in that case we're good to go"

With a wave of the USB, you strolled back into the corridor, tailed by Natasha, and found the exit to the building, meeting back up with your partners.

"So..."

"So..." you repeated Natasha's statement, fidgeting with your sleeves as you did so. Your best friend, who you long thought dead, had just turned up. Only to reveal that you both had defected to different agencies. On top of that, she thought she had destroyed the Red Room, which you knew wasn't the case.

"I feel like there's some history" Clint muttered, with an agreeing nod coming from Emily.

"Well, last time I saw Y/N was in the Red Room, and there are a number of agencies to join after that. Most of them want me dead." Natasha began,

"I thought maybe you had come back from the mission to find me gone, and the Red Room was pretty keen on killing defectors..."

"I'd have come back if I'd known it was still going"

"I have a feeling you're still going to go back. Because Yelena is still there"

"Yelena?" Clint questioned with a raised eyebrow. Natasha's whole body had tensed.

"I've been keeping tabs on her, she's definitely still alive, but she's also still with them. And I can't track the Red Room down anymore."

"I have to find her," Natasha said at last, her voice unwavering. "I'm not leaving you again though Y/N"

"You better not, this is the second time I've thought you were dead only for you to turn up 3 years later. It’s a bad habit."

Her eyes met Emily's as yours met Clint's. A silent decision being made between the four of you.

"I mean you have a ton of holiday time built up Y/N" Emily conceded, "use it and I can help you out from London"

"And Fury will grant you anything Natasha, clearly. He can help you take down the Red Room." Clint agreed.

"You have a phone?" you asked Natasha, holding out a hand for her to pass it over. Then promptly input your number and sent a text. "I have to go and submit that request, but as soon as you find something let me know okay? I'll come help, just don't do it alone."

She smiled, pulling you into a hug. "I'll text you soon, we have a lot to catch up on."

[fantastic-bby]

SKZ as animal hybrid boyfriends

Pairing: Reader x Members

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Fluff | Headcanon | Animal Hybrid/Shifter AU | Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Very brief mention of spiders

Masterlist

Chan

A husky hybrid

Has the CUTEST pair of gray and white ears that stick out of the top of his head

Also has the most gorgeous pair of pale blue eyes that glow in the dark

He has a fluffy white tail that wags like crazy whenever he’s excited because he doesn’t know how to stop it from showing

He’s also the sweetest boyfriend in. The. WORLD!

Always asks how you’re doing

Makes sure your not missing any meals and that you’re always hydrated

Every morning, he wakes you up with cute good morning texts and he always tries to send you good night texts sometimes forgets because he gets so caught up in work

He makes up for it tho

Sends flowers to your place whenever he forgets uwu

Chan’s the perfect boyfriend

The only problem is that you’re allergic to dogs

He didn’t realise why you always seemed to sneezy and stuffy whenever you would come over to his place

Until you told him

And his reaction makes you feel like you just told him the most horrific thing in the world

To him it is!!!!

Because he’s the reason that you’ve been having allergic reactions around him!!

He starts vacuuming his place more often to keep any fur away and makes sure to keep the area super clean so that you’re clear from anything that could cause a reaction

He also starts lint rolling and vacuuming his clothes before giving them to you so that you don’t take any of his fur home unless you ask him to leave his fur

Chan gets confused whenever you tell him that you don’t want him to vacuum or wash his hoodies before giving them to you

But you like them because every time you see the strands of gray and white fur sticking out of his hoodie, it reminds you of him

So instead,

Chan starts buying a crap ton of allergy meds

Puts them in every corner of his house

In the bathroom

The kitchen

The living room

The bedroom

Literally everywhere just in case you get a super bad reaction

That way he’s always prepared for anything

Minho

A maine coon hybrid

The most luscious fur ever known to man

His cat ears are so fluffy and always well groomed

He has this beautiful fluffy orange tail that he’s gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings with

Usually a hybrid’s animal features would probably give away their emotions, but Minho learned to control his ears and tails really well

It’s just that his ears are really sensitive and they flick around every few seconds whenever he’s in a crowded place

He has a pair of yellow eyes that are constantly in the shape of slits simply because he wants to intimidate everyone around him

Also always has his claws out because they intimidate strangers

Wouldn’t tell anyone, but Minho lets his pupils dilate when he’s alone with you (´∀｀)♡

He also likes to tease you a lot but you know he’s just joking because if he was serious, his tail wouldn’t be so related

You try not to tell him because then he’ll start working harder to hide his tail swishes

Is the most precious yet teasing boyfriend out there

He’ll make a joke about you eating a lot of ice cream whenever you’re sad, but he’ll always have your favourite ice cream in the freezer

If you complain about some kind of muscle pain, Min would call you weak but then also come home with muscle relief patches that he’ll stick to you himself

Minho likes to shift into cat form if you’re stressed because then it means that he wouldn’t really disturb you a lot

His footsteps are way quieter when he’s in cat form as compared to human form

So if you’re stressed or tired and you ask him to give you time

Minho would shift and hide in one of the cat towers he bought for himself until he hears you coming out of the bedroom

The moment he hears the sound of the bedroom door opening, he’ll lift his head and peek out from the top

If you sit on the floor right in front of the tower, Minho will scurry off of the tower to sit in your lap to

But if you don’t even look at the tower and you instead go to the kitchen, he’ll wait a bit longer to give you more time

Changbin

Yk I wanna say he’d be some cursed Dwaekki hybrid the skzoo dwaekki haunts me in my sleep

But I genuinely feel like he’d be something really threatening like a wild animal

So if Chan’s a husky and Minho’s a maine coon

I’m gonna throw Changbin in as a grizzly bear because he’s a tank of a man and I love him for that

His ears are dark brown and rounded, poking out from the top of his head

His eyes are super dark brown and sometimes you can’t even tell if you’re able to see the white in his eyes bcs his pupils are just that big

His hands have these huge black claws that could claw someone apart if he wanted to

Also has a cute brown tail that he often hides underneath his clothes because it’s small enough for him to sit on

He gives THE BEST CUDDLESSSS!!!!!

Sometimes shifts into bear form just to cuddle you because it’s cold and relying on the heater might make it too warm

So Binnie likes to use his own fur to warm you up if he notices you shivering

Also would not hesitate to bear his teeth at anyone who tries to hurt you

Changbin doesn’t really tell anyone this

But one of his proudest bear traits is his ability to vocalise like a bear

Which means that whenever he feels the need to protect you or whoever’s around him

He will growl like a bear

And it’s terrifying

You didn’t even know that Changbin could roar until one night when a stranger wouldn't take your ‘no’ as an answer and your boyfriend almost lost his mind

He pulled you behind him and grabbed the collar of their shirt and just roared at them

The stranger being a hybrid of a smaller bear species immediately scrambled off

But Changbin also immediately switches back into sweet, cuddly boyfriend the moment he turns back to you <3

Hyunjin

A sphynx hybrid

Very dramatic

Very loud

He has pink cat ears sticking out of the top of his head with a little black splotch on his left ear

He also has this naked pink tail that sticks out from underneath his shirt

Every minor inconvenience and Hyunjin’s meowing and whining to you about it and you think it’s funny every time he does

Like the time he misplaced his sock and was crying all over your shared home looking for it until he found it underneath the bed

His claws are retractable, so he usually hides them because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone on accident unlike Minho

He’s VERY cuddly both in human form and cat form

Hyunjin likes to do the ‘kneading the dough’ thing whenever you’re cuddling

And ends up leaving holes in your clothes because his claws would accidentally grab onto the fabric

Would also feel really bad afterwards because now he’s ruined your shirt

You reassure him that it’s fine

But Hyunjin’s dramatic also kinda wants an excuse to go shopping with you

So he cries about it and it leads to him dragging you to the mall so that he can buy you a new one

Ends up getting distracted at a cat cafe because he’s made conversation with one of the cats there

And he’s basically talking to them like he’s a middle aged wine mom talking about their weird husbands

You have to remind him what the goal is

But he’s so immersed in the conversation with the orange tabby that you can only watch in amusement

Hyunjin’s talking to it in English while the cat nods with it’s tail swishing every time he asks it a question, mewling every once in a while as a response

You watch with a smile on your face, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you listen

You can only gather that Hyunjin’s telling the cat about why you’re at the mall

And the cat turns to you with a bored expression on its face before meowing

“She says good luck on finding a new shirt”

You nod and reach out to pet the cat’s head as thanks

You and Hyunjin leave after a while

And soon, the trip to get one shirt turns into a shared shopping spree

Jisung

Kinda obvious but he’s a squirrel hybrid

He has a pair of rounded, light brown ears on the top of his head

A bushy light brown tail that bumps into everything whenever he’s in cramped spaces

And the CUTEST pair of brown eyes EVERRRRR

His squirrel trait is where he gets the habit of stuffing food into his cheeks whenever he eats

Ji’s really good at climbing

So he has this long ass piece of wood that he keeps in the living room of his home so that he can still climb something in squirrel form if he can’t go outside

He also has tiny black claws that he uses mainly for practicality when he's in human form

So stuff like cutting into plastic, through strings and to open mail

He just slides his finger across the top of the envelope and boom

Jisung’s quite clumsy

It doesn’t help that he has this huge, bushy tail behind him

He bumps you with it a lot and he’s always so apologetic over it

But it’s fine because it’s his tail and it’s soft and cute and it’s part of Jisung UwU

There were a couple of times where you would wake up and his tail would be tickling your sides

So you’d wake up giggling

And it would wake him up too

He’d turn around and immediately wrap his arms around your waist to cuddle into you

You love playing with his ears

Jisung’s really responsive whenever you pet his squirrel features

So if you touch his tail in public

He’s jolting forward like AHHH

And you like to gently rub his ears whenever you’re cuddling

Jisung usually ends up cuddling into you more because he really likes it whenever you play with his ears

He has a habit of making those squirrel squeaks whenever he’s uncomfortable

So in public, if he feels like he’s overwhelmed or wants to leave

He’ll cling onto your arm and start squeaking softly so that only you’re able to hear

And it’s an easy way for you to know that he wants to leave without him actually telling you

Felix

Horned owl hybrid

He has two sets of white and brown feathers that poke out from the top of his head and curls to the back

He does, however, have talons at his fingertips that he doesn’t really like because it gets caught on a lot of things

Has feathers running down his arms, but can’t actually fly in human form

His eyes are this beautiful amber colour

He also has a lot of hanging stuff in his house that he likes to fly back and forth to whenever he shifts into owl form

Absolutely loves doing the head spinning trick because you freaked out the first time you saw him do it as a human

Felix also has really light footsteps

So sometimes you don’t even hear him coming into a room and suddenly he’s beside you

Which scares you sometimes

Overall, Felix is just unintentionally scary.

Buuuut

Because he has really good eyesight at night

And because he’s nocturnal

He sleeps in the day

Which means that all of his work is done at night while you’re asleep

His hearing is intense which means that he could hear the smallest pin dropping in the kitchen from the bedroom

So when he hears something strange coming from the kitchen

He’s immediately crawling out of bed and peeking out of the bedroom door

That’s when he sees a spider crawling out from behind the fridge

A huge spider

Now, Felix does NOT like spiders

But he knows that if you wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink, then you’re going to be freaked out by too

But he should be able to toss it out the window in owl form

So Felix pops open one of the windows and shifts

His silent flying and sharp night vision make it a quick mission that’s executed without much hassle

He manages to grab the spider with his talons and just tosses it straight out of the window

By the time Felix has returned to the bedroom

You’ve woken up because you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore

So he climbs back into bed and lets you hold onto him while you fall back asleep

Seungmin

Labrador hybrid

Has a pair of golden ears flopping over the top of his head

Also has a golden tail that he usually hides because if he gets over excited then it’ll wag all over the place and might bump into things

Is a relatively quiet person and is also a quiet dog

He doesn’t say or bark that much

But you’ve come to learn how to read his body language

Because his posture both in human form and dog form speak his thoughts

Like whenever he’s standing tall then you’ll figure that Minnie’s probably uncomfortable or feels threatened

As quiet as he is

He’s extremely attentive to your needs as well

Seungmin’s able to catch your body language way quicker than you are at reading his

Which means that the moment you look uncomfortable, he’s immediately moving to stand beside you with an arm wrapped around you

Think of it as that TikTok trend that’s like ‘using my scary dog privilege’

In this case

Seungmin’s more than happy to be the scary dog that lets you walk around alone

He’d bark and bite at anything or anyone who would try to hurt you

Even in human form, he’d growl as a warning to other animal hybrids that are around you

Whenever you’re out in public, Seungmin tries to stay by your side just in case anything happens

But when he has to part from you to talk to another group of your friends

He keeps you in his line of sight

He’d always angle himself in conversations so that the person he’s talking to has their back facing you so that he’s able to see you

And when a cat hybrid suddenly approaches you

Seungmin’s more on the attentive side but he hasn’t gone into protective mode because you don’t look uncomfortable

But then your frame starts to shrink

He immediately changes his posture

Which scares the people around him because suddenly, Seungmin looks so scary

He waits a moment longer and the moment you start looking around the room for him, he’s shoved his drink into the hands of Hyunjin so that he can make his way over to you

He slings his arm over your shoulder and glares at the cat hybrid who’s now extremely intimidated by the presence of the labrador hybrid

Seungmin leans close to the cat and growls at them until they run off

He stays with you for the rest of the night and the way he stays in protective mode makes you feel safe

Until you get home and Seungmin’s back to this ball of cuddle fluff that you absolutely love (｡♥‿♥｡)

Jeongin

Fennec fox hybrid

Has a big pair of white fluffy ears that poke out of his head

Has a fluffy white tail that blends into a more golden colour that’s long enough to poke out from underneath his shirt

He has super insane hearing

Even if he has headphones in, he can hear the outside world

Bodes well for him because whenever you walk into his apartment, he’ll walk out immediately to greet you

He never actually feels hot or warm because his body heat radiates off of his ears

Is always cold in human form

In fox form, his fur insulates his body instead so he doesn’t feel much of a difference

Has a habit of not drinking for hours because he can get stuck in his fox form

Also has a habit of chewing on your desk plants if he deems them edible

Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll come home to your beautiful plant babies half eaten and munched away because your fox boyfriend wanted a snack

To solve this problem, you filled the fridge with berries and vegetables for whenever he feels like snacking

But sometimes he goes overboard and he pretty much eats everything he can find when he forgets to eat for a while

He’s a fox hybrid that doesn’t know how to shift on command

Usually he has this big urge to shift but he’ll be stuck in one form for a while before being able to switch

He doesn’t know any other fox hybrids

So Jeongin has to learn to control his animalistic instincts with the help of you!

His human partner

Lucky for the both of you

You have a friend who’s a red fox hybrid

She’s not a fennec fox

But she still shares similar instincts to Jeongin because they’re both fox hybrids

So now Jeongin comes to you with the biggest smile on his face whenever he’s accomplished something, gushing about how Fox Noona taught him how to shift on command

He’ll show you

And you watch as he shifts into this tiny little fennec fox with a big smile on his snout (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

[therenlover]

The Boy With The Easel (A Young Artist!Helmut Zemo x Reader Oneshot)

(Hey! If you end up enjoying this fic, it’s the first chronological part of a new fun expanded AU I’ve created with @creme-bruhlee​! Their fic Bliss is part of the same timeline and takes place about a year after this one, so you should check it out!!!)

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Tags: Meet Cute, College AU, First Meetings, Coffee Date, Artist!Zemo, Embarrassment, Awkward College Kids Falling In Love

Rating: T

Warnings: Very Vague Mention of Sexual Content, Swearing, Zemo Says The Word Daddy In Reference To His Father and The Reader Thinks It’s Kinda Hot

Word Count: 7000~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3!

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                                    The University of Novi Grad

                                                 Fall 1996

Mornings in Novi Grad could be beautiful if you knew what to look for.

Sokovia was… different from America in many ways. From the language to the scenery, you often found yourself adrift in the strangeness of it all. There had been nothing quite as old as the buildings in the historical district of Novi Grad back home, no towering grey behemoths serving as a reminder of a bygone fight against Soviet invasion in the memories of your childhood. Still, though, there was beauty in the strangeness nonetheless.

From your tiny room in the Helena Lyudmila International Scholar’s dorm, for instance, you had a perfect view of a large campus courtyard hosting a statue of the donor by the same name. She was some royal who had invested in education a few hundred years ago, and by the looks of her metal likeness, she had been quite pretty. The sight of her shining in the early morning sun was one of the things that made uprooting your whole life seem worth it in the end, no matter how silly that seemed.

There were other small comforts that you had found beauty in during your first month attending your prestigious university, too.

You found beauty in the way the sunlight streamed over the rooftops like the opening to an Oscar-winning film. In the sound of traffic below and the overcast skies above. Sandwiches from corner stores, wildflowers growing in the median of the road, cups of the worlds best black coffee served steaming by scowling attendants at the cafe; Everywhere there was something small and kind and just familiar enough to relish in, more than able to distract you from the stress of living hand-to-mouth in a country where you didn’t even know the language. It made it all worth it.

That being said there was something else too…

Someone else to be specific.

The campus tended to run like clockwork. The same groups of students would walk past your window to their classes, the same professors would get their coffee and lunch at the little cafe across the square, and every weekday morning at 8 am on the dot, easel boy would set up his palette and canvas and paint the same bustling street.

He was talented, that you couldn’t deny. Even from the 6th floor, which was a considerable distance away, it was possible to admire the detailing and consistency with which he painted. His talent wasn’t when kept you captive at your window in the morning, though. Though you were sure his art was beautiful, he himself was a thousand times more stunning.

All dark eyes and dark hair and dark clothes, he parted crowds with his piercing gaze alone. He was always dressed like the protagonist of some awful artsy film. Massive argyle sweaters, untucked button-ups, corduroy jackets, and flare bottomed pants that must have survived his father’s wardrobe from the ’70s… his style was as close you could get to atrocious while still being impeccable as possible, and that wasn’t even getting started on the smudged black liner always present under his persistent gaze. You had never had the pleasure (or embarrassment for that matter) of meeting him in person, but you were sure that you would have had the same awed and slightly frightened reaction if you ever did. He could have been plucked entirely from the pages of some awful romance novel.

You were well and truly smitten with the idea of him.

If you looked at your morning routine through the eyes of a stranger, you’d consider yourself odd for your strange obsession with him, but you didn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t an obsession. You never overstepped your bounds. He was simply pleasing to look at and so you did. That didn’t constitute as obsessive, right?

Even if it did, you weren’t causing any harm.

Easel boy, as you had come to refer to him, was simply a tool you used to ground yourself in your new and frightening environment. Nothing more. If you ever met him, you would surely hate him from the short interactions you’d seen him have with strangers. They never ended well. He would remain an unattainable, attractive ideal in your mind until he eventually faded away into a funny memory you’d share with your kids one day.

Until then, though, you would watch him from your window before your morning classes and refused to feel guilty about it. So, that was that, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

On the morning in question, you had woken up a little late and in a foul mood. In preparation for a test in your foundations of algebra course you had spent the better part of the night pouring over formulas while your upstairs neighbor’s bed slammed repeatedly into the wall and floor. Though you were sure they were having an excellent time, you were most definitely not. It all culminated in you missing your original alarms and despite the fact that your first class started at 10, you were exhausted, furious, and not looking forward to missing breakfast to finish the assigned reading you had put off the night before. The only thing keeping you from throwing in the towel and just giving up was the promise of seeing the painter.

So, when he arrived for the day at 8 am sharp, you were positioned at the ledge by your window, textbook in hand with a mug of instant coffee at your right. It was like a breath of fresh air.

As usual, he retrieved a small pack of cigarettes from the back of his eternally paint-stained jeans only to bring one to his lips and light it quickly. He always smoked before he worked, and just like always, he took an extra cigarette from the pack to tuck behind his ear for later. Then, he got to work setting up his easel and the small stool where he set his palette.

Pulling tubes of acrylic, brushes, and pencils from his well-worn messenger bag, easel boy flipped out the kickstand without any problem and set his thick, pre-primed canvas on the worn metal. You watched in fascination. Art had always seemed so unattainable to you. Instead, you were drawn to the more academic. The man before you, though, created beauty with an ease that had evaded you all your life, and it had you both jealous and entirely intrigued. Slowly, you reached down to take a sip of your coffee as you let your eyes drift back to your reading.

Learning about ancient Babylon was far less interesting than watching him, though.  

When you next looked out the window and away from your work the handsome artist had created his base sketch already. How did he do it so fast? You assumed it was practice. He had been drawing the same 3 buildings every weekday morning for at least a month, so after a while, it must have been second nature to measure out the lines and put things into perspective. You smiled. He tended to have that effect on you.

The process was repeated until a little before 9:30. You would read a few paragraphs then look up to watch the painting progress from a sketch to a full-fledged work of art. It was good today from what you could see. The colors were a bit more muted than usual, but that was only on account of the awful, dreary overcast sky that threatened to dump rain on the city at any time. Overall, you would have considered it a masterpiece. Easel boy didn’t seem to think the same.

He regarded the painting with a sort of begrudging satisfaction that bordered on disappointment before he pulled the second cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and began the process of packing up his materials. You finished the last of your coffee watching him do so. Smoking, well, smoking tobacco at least, had always been a vice you had avoided and yet you often wondered what it would feel like to take a drag of one of his cigarettes after it had been between his lips. Then, the magic lifted.

He folded up the flimsy easel, tucked it away with his materials back into his messenger bag, hoisted the stool under one arm and the painting under the other before taking off at a brisk clip down the street away from your window. You watched him until he was out of sight.

You were snapped from your concentration by a knock at your door.

“Y/N,” a heavily accented voice called, sending you scrambling for your bag, “If you are not outside in the next 15 seconds I will break down your door,”

Shit.

“Coming, Sasha!” You wailed. It took about 10 of those seconds to grab your backpack and shove your textbook inside, an extra 2 to check your appearance in the mirror- you looked slightly disheveled, but it was the best you were gonna do after the night you’d had. Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing anything important. You didn’t need to be dressed for a date -and you were opening the door for a quick save at the 14th second. Your door was safe for another day.

Out in the hall waited Sasha Balandin, arms crossed and grey eyes piercing in the flickering light of the terrible overhead fluorescents. As a fellow international student, you had become fast friends with Sasha. He was a little rough around the edges, and definitely didn’t take your bullshit, but he was a rare friend. “I have been waiting for 10 minutes,” he griped. You tried your best to look apologetic. “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” You asked, closing and locking your door behind you as you began walking down the hallway.

Sasha huffed. “Do not pretend you were not too busy ogling that painter in the courtyard to hear me knocking on your door,” His Russian bluntness was on full display now as you shook your head in mock disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that!”

“It is not an accusation if it is true,”

“There’s no way you know for a fact that I was watching him again,”

“But you were. This happens every week,”

You sighed, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I was,”

Taking the stairs in twos, Sasha sighed. “You are too soft, Y/N. Besides, you have said so often that he seems like an asshole. Why do you continue to get all mushy at him out the window if this is the case?”

“Because… well, because…” for a moment, you floundered in search of an answer that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete freak, but you found that there really wasn’t one. It came down the one small factor. “He’s just really hot, okay?”

The look Sasha gave you could have killed. He kept his mouth shut, though, choosing to let his silence shame you more than anything else did. It worked. For the entire trip down the stairs and the mile-long walk to your lecture hall, you felt the weight of shame heavy on your shoulders. Or maybe it was just your backpack. You didn’t know which you’d prefer. He did start speaking again eventually, going on about some party you had missed in favor of studying, but the feeling never left. Even as you sat down for your lecture it was still at the forefront of your mind. In fact, you were so busy thinking about your crush on easel boy and the problems with it that you barely paid attention to the professor’s rehashing of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Your error only hit when the professor flipped the PowerPoint to the final slide.

“Before you go, I want to remind you that you have a paper on the importance of Enkidu in the Epic is due at the beginning of class this Friday. The details and requirements should be listed in your syllabus. Class dismissed,”

Fuck.

Friday was only two days away.

You were so screwed.

The problem was, you didn’t have a spare copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh just lying around your dorm room. Usually that wouldn’t have been an issue, the professor for your current history course used English for her slide because her particular history course was specifically for first-year international students. Unfortunately for you, though, you hadn’t been taking notes. Instead, you had been daydreaming about how it would feel to have easel boy blow his cigarette smoke in your face and then subsequently scolding yourself for having thoughts like that about a total stranger. In a terrible twist of fate, the professor only held office hours after her last classes on Mondays and Fridays, so even getting the information from her then was off the table. Dread began to pool in your stomach.

Any other student would have been able to cut their losses, rent a copy from the library, slog through it in a night, and write the damn essay even without the help of the classroom slides for context. The only problem was all the books in the library were in Sokovian, and you still barely knew how to order a coffee correctly. Reading the language in a full Cyrillic alphabet would just be impossible, especially for a book as stupidly old as the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In short, unless you could get your hands on a copy in the next day or so, you were absolutely, well-and-truly fucked.

Sasha was quick to find you as the hall cleared out, waiting near your seat as you packed away your notes. “That was all bullshit, no?” He asked, but the second he took in your slightly panicked expression he stopped short, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply. You knew what he was going to say before he ever said it.

“Something is wrong. You were not paying attention. Were you thinking-”

“Yes. Okay? Yes, I was thinking about him,”

He shook his head slightly. “I am concerned for you,”

“Who isn’t?”

Despite his usually stoic demeanor, that made Sasha huff out a soft laugh. “You got yourself into this mess, Y/N, you will get yourself out somehow,”

Your jaw dropped as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started making your way towards the door. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“Though I would love to be helpful, you forget that my English is poor. It will do me better to read the book in Sokovian myself than to use the information from class,”

Oh, yeah. You winced. “Sorry, Sash’”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged as you walked out onto the lawn, chilled to the bone by the wind that whipped in every direction.

A storm was brewing. It might not fully take hold of the city for a few hours yet, but it would make the walk to your evening class absolute hell if the rain fell as hard as it had several weeks prior. You could only hope that it wouldn’t start until after you had walked home. Your odds were looking slim, though, based on the way you could already hear thunder clapping in the distance. After a moment you hit the edge of the sidewalk where your paths would diverge.

“Good luck with the paper,” you offered weakly.

Sasha replied with a sharp, “Good luck with your crush,” and then he was off in the opposite direction without another word. Sasha was blunt like that, never overstaying his welcome or lingering when he didn’t need to. There was something enviable about it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to simply say things as they were without an unnecessary sugar coating to save face and spare feelings. It lingered on your mind for the whole half-mile walk to the campus bookstore. Speaking of which...

There was only one place where you might possibly find an English copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It wasn’t the big student bookstore, most of the textbooks there had been in Sokovian, Russian, or German and you hadn’t even tried to set foot in their actual book section. No, your only hope was the tiny hole-in-the-wall bookstore you had stumbled upon during move-in. It was only about half a mile away from your dorm from any of your lecture halls, so you often found yourself wandering inside when you had time to kill. They were one of the only stores you’d come across that sold anything in English, magazines included, so despite the fact that the young cashiers rarely spoke your language you often found that the back shelves of that tiny shop kept you from going mad.

Now, they might also be keeping you from ruining your GPA.

You could only hope. If anybody could save you, it was them.

Ducking in through the small doorway, you were greeted by the soft ring of the bell above your head. The attendant at the register simply regarded you with a polite nod. You had seen her there before and she knew you barely spoke a lick of Sokovian, so she didn’t attempt a pleasantry. Instead, she simply let you wander through the entrance and into the towering bookshelves, passing a few other faceless shoppers on your way towards the back. You were grateful for her nonchalance.

If there was anything worse than feeling foolish for not knowing Sokovian, it was being talked down to in perfect English by a Sokovian citizen. Most interactions left you wishing you’d actually taken anything away from your high school French class other than emotional trauma from your teacher and a caffeine addiction. Damn America and its terrible public-school language programs…

The path to the English classics section was one you’d walked many times since discovering the book store. It was right in the very back corner of the shop, tucked away where the city natives wouldn’t have to address or see it. You had snagged a copy of Pride and Prejudice a few weeks back, so you knew exactly where to search. The only problem was slogging through every single book on the shelf in search of the one you were looking for.

Your eyes scanned the wall.  

Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh…

Gilgamesh!

On the 6th shelf up sat one small copy. Score! You were saved! As you reached up to grab it, though, you were met with yet another roadblock. The shelf it was on was juuuust a little too high for you to reach. Oh, come on…

You hopped a little, extending your hand up as far as it could go, but your fingers just barely brushed the spine. Somewhere behind you, you could hear footsteps. Then someone coughed to suppress laughter. The shame was plain on your face. As your flannel rode up and you stretched up in one last desperate attempt to grab the book when suddenly someone, you assumed the same person who had been laughing at your misfortune, spoke.

“They have stools, you know,” he said, accented voice thick with amusement. The English surprised you, but you assumed they used it for your benefit. You were in front of the English language books after all. Besides, the shame of it all kept your mind from questioning it too much. “For reaching the top shelf,”

Of course they had stools.

If your face hadn’t already been burning with embarrassment it definitely was now.

In a split-second decision, you decided playing dumb was the only way you could walk out of the situation with any dignity left at all, so you plastered on a confused smile and spun around to greet the stranger. “Really? I had no cl-”

You stopped short.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’d know those paint-stained jeans anywhere.

There, with his hands in his pockets and the most self-important, thin-lipped smirk you had ever seen, was easel boy in all of his cocky, intimidating, hot glory. Had you really noticed how hot he truly was before? It didn’t feel like it. Not now that you’d really seen him close up and reveled in the way his dark eyes hypnotized you with their smudged liner that felt borderline obscene. You could smell him too, all charcoal and turpentine and cigarette smoke. If you had it bad before when he was just a blurry ideal out your window, you were completely and utterly smitten now.

He regarded you with a sort of practiced annoyance, and yet there was a strange softness to it that you hadn’t found in many native Sokovians, especially ones that saw you as the stupid, bumbling American wandering blindly around their country.

“Would you like my help?”

“Huh?” You were so lost in his eyes that you couldn’t even focus on his question.

“To reach your book. Would you like my help?”

“Oh!” With a brisk nod, you stepped away from the shelf to make room for easel boy, “yeah, I’m just trying to grab that one there. The, uh, Epic of Gilgamesh,”

In one swift movement, he was stepping right beside you to easily reach up and grab the offending piece of literature. The closeness of it all nearly sent you into a tailspin. That wasn’t even mentioning the way your heart thudded just a little faster when he finally handed the book to you, his calloused fingers brushing against your own. You barely find a grip on your brain strong enough to thank him through the fog of embarrassment and attraction. Eventually, though, you managed to choke out a placation as your eyes explored the cover of the book.

“Thanks for that,”

“It was no problem,” he shrugged. He didn’t move though, still standing just inches away from you. When you looked up from the book you found his eyes were still on you, watching intently as if he expected something from you. The answer to what he actually expected was a mystery but you could tell he wanted something. When you didn’t speak, he spoke for you. “So, The Epic of Gilgamesh? That’s definitely a bold choice,”

You looked up at him sheepishly through heavily lidded eyes. “It’s not a choice at all, actually. I’m only buying it so I can write an essay,”

“Ah,” Something about his tone was almost disappointed as the conversation stalled.

You quickly changed the subject to the first thing you could think of.

“Your hair is really nice!”

“My hair?”

“Yeah… your hair,”

Smooth move, dumbass.

Easel boy’s expression seemed to soften once more as his signature grin crept back onto his face. “Thank you, I grew it myself,” Between his accent and the way he was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive, you weren’t exactly sure how you hadn’t had a heart attack yet. Still, the attention was nice, even if it was bourne out of you repeatedly embarrassing yourself in a never-ending cycle of fuckups. He ran a hand through his loose brown hair. “I like your shirt. Very American,”

Silently, you cursed yourself for not taking a few extra seconds to pick out a better outfit when you woke up. Standing next to him, even while he was dressed in his paint-stained jeans and undone button-up, you looked like a wreck in comparison. He didn’t seem to be speaking from a place of judgment, though.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was being nice, but that couldn’t be the case… could it?

“Maybe it’s just that I haven’t met very many Sokovians that are fond of America, but I’m not sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult,” You joked. It was a bit sarcastic, the lilt of your voice masking your deep insecurity, and to your surprise easel boy laughed. He really laughed. From your place beside him, you could almost feel the warmth radiating off of him as he shook his head.

“It was definitely a compliment,”

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat.

That was a new revelation.

You steeled yourself with a deep breath. Fuck it. It was now or never.

“I, uh… I’m Y/N, and you are?”

He regarded you once again with that strange expression of expectation. “What?”

“I asked for your name,” you repeated, and yet he still stood, slightly dumbfounded, staring down at you with that same expectant expression from earlier. For a moment, you almost thought he expected you to know it already. That fact was quickly glossed over when he moved to rub the back of his neck with his hand, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I’m not very good with people. My father thought college might help me finally connect with my peers, but I don’t think he expected that I was the problem, nor do I think he expected me to pick a degree in the arts,” Suddenly, he paused and stuck out his hand to you. “I’m Hel. It’s very nice to meet you Y/N,”

With only a moment of hesitation- because wow, your name had never sounded more right on someone’s lips -you took his large calloused hand in your own and shook it gently. His palm was warm, his fingers lingering on your own for just a moment even as he pulled away. It wasn’t much, just a soft brush against your flesh, but it sent a flash of heat and liquid confidence through your chest.

“Is that short for something?” Your eyes met his in the soft yellow glow of the overhead lamps. Seeing him like this, so up close and personal, he looked a lot more human than he had from your window. Sure, he was imposing. Underneath the initial harsh facade, though, was something softer and almost poetic. You weren’t an artist by any means but if you had been, you had no doubt that he’d be your muse.

“It’s short for Helmut, but only my father calls me that, and only when he’s cross, which, unfortunately, is most of the time,” he chuckled, “Besides, it’s an old man’s name. It doesn’t suit me,”

The words left your mouth before you knew what you were saying.

“Well, it’s better than calling you easel boy,”

Shit.

Today really just wasn’t your day, huh?

In the split second where you were mourning your chances with the most stupidly handsome guy who had ever shown any interest in you, you almost missed the way Helmut’s eyes lit up at the admission.

“Easel boy?” His voice was teasing, but not demeaning. That didn’t do much to ease your mortification, though.

“Is there any chance that I can get you to forget I said anything?”

“If you already have a nickname for me when we’ve barely met, I think you already know the answer to that question,”

His knowing smirk was enough to get you pleading. “You can’t just let me off the hook this once?” you begged, scrubbing a hand across your forehead in a desperate attempt to get away from his piercing gaze. The things those brown eyes did to you could be classified as obscene… “I will genuinely do anything if you don’t make me explain myself right now Hel,”

Hel quirked up an eyebrow. “Anything?” The way your stomach turned at just one word from him was both terrifying and extremely exciting. It felt like a promise. Without hesitation, you nodded. That made him smile. “In that case, get coffee with me today?”

Once again, you were rendered speechless.

“My treat,” he added, “unless you’re not interested…”

“No!” Your answer left your lips embarrassingly fast, “Or- yes? No, no, I think I meant no. No; I am very interested. Yes; I would like to get coffee with you,” There was a hint of shame in your words, but only a hint. After the day you’d had already, there wasn’t very much there to be ashamed of. Still, that same pit of dread began to open up in your stomach as you mulled over your choices.

Thankfully, Helmut continued to take it all in stride. “Wonderful! Is there anything else you’d like to do here before we go? It’s best we leave soon if we want to beat the rain,” He offered up his arm as he spoke like some sort of Disney prince. It was, by far, the cutest gesture you had ever been lucky enough to receive.

You linked your arm with his without hesitation. “As soon as I pay we can get going,” He was warm. It radiated off him in waves just like the warm hints of tobacco and wintermint that seemed to seep from his skin and clothes. With that, you made your way to the front desk as Hel shot you a sly smile.

“Who said anything about letting you pay?”

True to his word, he didn’t let you pay for a single thing for the rest of the afternoon.

The two of you made your way up to the cashier together, and Helmut only separated from your side to grab his wallet before you could grab yours. He then spoke in rapid-fire Sokovian to the lady at the register and pulled what could only be described as a wad of Sokovian koronas while you set the book on the counter, and from the looks of it, she seemed more than pleased with the two of you. Who wouldn’t be, especially when Hel seemed to insist that she keep the excess? In the end, after the book had been wrapped nicely in a paper bag and deposited in your backpack, Helmut held the door open for you like some sort of gentleman and followed you out into the grey afternoon.

Then, you were off down the street on Hel’s arm, pushing through the wind and the biting chill that had settled in the air.

“So, you don’t sound like a big fan of your dad,” you asked, half laughing as you attempted to broach conversation once again.

Helmut groaned beside you. “My father is a menace who is unable to understand that some people want more in life than to sit behind a desk all day making phone calls. In fact, most of my family is the same way. The only reason I haven’t completely cut them off and changed my name is the money,”

“I assume you get a lot of it if it’s worth sticking around someone you hate so much,”

“Never ask a man about his net worth,” he chuckled, gently elbowing you in the ribs, “but yes, I’m very comfortable. I have my own apartment just far enough away to be considered off-campus with my own car and as much money as it takes to keep me happy and getting good grades; Daddy makes sure of that,” The word daddy was a deep sneer, barely there in the wind, but something about it sent butterflies through your stomach. Well, that was never something you thought you were into… “Little does he know, I’m not here to make money. I’m here to find inspiration worth my time while out from under his thumb,”  

You snorted softly. “Artistic and rich? You’re just ticking all the boxes, Hel,”

“Good for me. Would offering help on that essay of yours endear you to me further?”

“Absolutely,”

The next 5 minutes you spend discussing the Epic of Gilgamesh. Surprisingly, in one of the first stokes of good luck you’d had all day, Helmut seemed to be one of the only people on earth who knew plenty about Enkidu off the top of his head. When he was the one lecturing you in his smooth, heavily accented timbre it was so much easier to pay attention to something so very tedious than when you heard it from your aging and often monotone professor. In fact, you were so enthralled by his retelling of the tale that you barely noticed you’d made it all the way to the cafe that sat across from the international dorm.

If you didn’t consider Hel to be smart as a whip and twice as clever as he was smart, you would have thought it was a coincidence. It couldn’t be though. No, there was no way anything was a coincidence with Helmut around. You shot him a smile when he opened the door for you and ushered you inside.

“You know Hel,” you muttered, “I’m starting to think you might know more about me than you initially let on,”

He shrugged. “You’re American, so it’s unlikely you live anywhere else and I wanted to make the walk home easy. It’s supposed to rain, you know? Besides, despite the… interesting waitstaff, they make the best pastries in town right here in this cafe,”

“Did you mean it when you said you were paying?”

“Absolutely,”

“Then I can’t wait to try one,”

The two of you were seated quickly (you assumed it had to do with the waitress finding Hel as hot as you did, because you caught her looking at him from behind the counter and whispering excitedly in Sokovian to her coworker at least twice over the course of the meal) and the conversation flowed easily as you waited on your coffees and the deserts Helmut insisted on splitting to let you try. Millefeuille, pear tart tatin, chocolate devil’s food cake, and a towering plate of apricot kołaczki awaited you, and they kept you sitting and talking and snacking for over an hour as you really got to know each other. The more you learned, the more you fell in love with the man across from you.

Over the course of the afternoon, you learned that Helmut was majoring in studio art while minoring in psychology just because it interested him, he hated the Beatles almost as much as he hated Freud’s theories on women, his favorite color was purple, and he spent most of his free time reading or getting high off his ass in his massive studio apartment in what you now knew was one of the most expensive areas in the city. He, in return, sat at rapt attention across the table as you gushed about your life in America, your reasons for going to university in Sokovia, your favorite books, and the ridiculousness that was trying to pass college-level classes in a country that seemed to avoid English at all costs.

Eventually, though, you did touch upon his nickname.

“I just thought it was really interesting that you did the same thing every single day, no matter what,” you explained, grabbing one of the last kołaczki from the plate and ignoring the powdered sugar that stuck to your fingers, “and by watching you… I don’t know, I guess it kind of felt like I had another friend who’d share breakfast with me in the morning if that makes sense,”

Hel nodded, swallowing his last bite of chocolate cake. “I understand completely. It can be lonely, coming to a new place without any friends or connections, but you were brave enough to take the leap. I admire that,” He brought his napkin to his lips before crumpling it and setting it one of the now empty plates before him, “But I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that you didn’t watch me because I’m attractive,”

You nearly choked on your pastry. “Well, I wouldn’t say your pretty face didn’t help…”

The grin that spread across his face was heartstopping. He grabbed a napkin from the little holder next to the two of you and grabbed a pen from one of his pockets as he spoke. “In that case, you should join me tomorrow morning. Bring coffee if you can, I never have enough hands to bring a cup for myself, but even if you can’t bring some, if you want to come and watch me work I’d be more than happy to have a companion for the morning,” he paused for a moment, flustered, “or every morning, for that matter,”

“That sounds like a deal,” Your cheeks were hot, but not from embarrassment this time. No, it was anything but, because here you were across the table from a kind, attractive, intelligent Sokovian boy with money to spend and time to spare for you. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud too. He wanted you back, after all. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than he should, and even more plainly in the way he wrote his phone number in bold blue ink on the napkin and signed it with a doodle of a heart before passing it across the table to you.

“I’m going to go pay,” he said quietly while standing, “but I’ll be back in a second to walk you out. Alright?”

“Alright,”

There was something strangely similar to sorrow sitting in your chest when you watched him walk away. The sight of his ass as he went made up for it, though. Once he was obstructed by other patrons, you turned your attention to the napkin in your hands. Hel’s handwriting was neat as far as artists’ handwriting goes, but it still held a sort of looseness in its curves, a freedom in the way the numbers had flowed effortlessly from his pen. You popped the last kołaczki in your mouth as you admired the blue ink before devouring the final bites of pear tart and millefeuille. How had you gotten so lucky to have someone like him giving you his number and buying you pastries? You pondered the bizarre nature of it all until Helmut returned.

You stood quickly, folding the napkin and putting it away in your pocket. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” he replied. In an instant, you were standing beside him again as he opened the door for you. The wind was even stronger now, strong enough that his loose hair whipped wildly around his forehead from the force of it. You couldn’t help but giggle at his appearance.

He caught you off guard as he walked you across the street. “You have such a pretty laugh,”

It was like you were seeing him again for the first time. You fiddled with the strap of your backpack as you got closer and closer to the door to your dorm. “Thanks. I’m pretty fond of your laugh too,”

Then, you were there, just two college kids standing awkwardly before your first departure.

“So,” you said before you could stop yourself, “when I tell my one friend all about this afternoon after my math class tonight, should I say it was a date?”

Hel’s cheeks flushed pink. “You can call it that, if that’s what you would like it to have been,”

“I think I would,”

“Good, good,” he let out a little chuckle, “I’m glad. Would you… would you consider going on another? I promise I have much more to offer than just small talk and tips on where to buy the best pastries,”

Looking into his brown eyes, so full of uncertainty and hope, you knew you couldn’t have denied him even if you wanted to. Still, you weren’t going to give in to his advances without a little bit of taunting. It made it fun, a game to be played where, hopefully, you both would win big in the end.

“That depends,” you teased, letting your lower lip catch between your teeth, “what do you have in mind?”

Helmut shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, pensive. “If you want to, we could go to my place and I could actually show you all of the paintings I’ve been working on while you watched me. The view from the rooftop is lovely too. We could have dinner up there while looking out over Novi Grad. I have to warn you, though, it’ll probably be takeout. I’m an atrocious chef,”

Slowly, a brilliant smile spread across your face. “Does Friday work?”

The smile Helmut shot back was as bright as every star in the night sky and even more enthralling. “Friday is perfect. Can I pick you up at 7?”

“As long as you come in that fancy car you were talking about,”

“Then it’s a deal,”

“Well,” you turned away, walking up the steps towards the door before turning back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Hel, and I’ll bring coffee. Have a good night,”

“You too, Y/N. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that,”

With that, he gave one last short wave before turning on his heel and pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. You watched him walk away until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. Only then did you enter the punch code and race up the stairs to your room.

Your back was pressed to the door of your dorm room the second you had shut it, your hands clutching at your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your heart from beating right out of your ribs. The second you were in the privacy of your own place, your cool facade had melted away to reveal just how much of a wreck you really were.

He had invited you over to his apartment.

He liked you.

Easel boy really, honestly liked you.

No, not easel boy. Helmut. Hel.

Hel liked you, and he invited you over to his apartment, and you had plans to meet him with coffee as he painted the next morning.

You smiled softly under the fluorescent lights and pulled the book that had brought you together from your backpack. It seemed so unassuming now, just a fresh paperback with an unbroken spine, but in reality, it was so much more than that.

Hel.

It was such a nice name. You liked it a lot.

Now you couldn’t wait to see what else you liked about him too.

------

a/n: I have been so excited to start sharing this AU with you guys, and it’s finally here!!! If you liked this fic, I once again will direct you to Bliss by @creme-bruhlee​ because that’s technically next in chronological order for this AU. I hope you enjoyed!!!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @your-pixels-are-showing , @shit-post-things , @bbarton​ , @sux-ubus , @halefirewarrior , @janelongxox , @rax-writes , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ , @be-cautious-around-bri​ , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car​ , @frothonthedaydreams​ 

[whore4teamcap]

Partners Against Crime

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After your boyfriend takes a promotion, you’re assigned a new partner. How will you both deal with the separation and potential of someone getting in the way? 

Warnings: This fanfiction does revolve around law enforcement but I will not include any controversies. 

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Thank you @stucky-my-ship for requesting this! I’m so excited to turn this into a series. Hope you enjoy <3 Thank you so much to those who read! Feedback and interactions are heavily appreciated. Also! Please reach out if you would like to be tagged in future parts and my other projects.

Part 1

You flickered your eyes open as a blaring noise came from beside you. No matter how many years of experience you had with this job, you swore you would never get used to this schedule. Even when you were starting out as a beat cop everything seemed easier. It was probably just the adrenaline from coming straight out of the academy but then your life changed. You were promoted from beat and finally landed your goal job as a detective. You dreamed of being a detective ever since you were little. You smiled softly at the memory of you sneaking downstairs to watch tv behind your parents backs. Often finding yourself glued to crime shows; they fueled your desires to take down criminals.

You throw your arm toward the side table and shut off the alarm. Then you proceed to roll over and frown at the empty bed space beside you. Your boyfriend, James Barnes, well you called him Bucky, just got promoted to Sergeant. He was officially in charge of the precinct you both worked at. Which was both a blessing and a curse. You were so proud of Bucky, he finally got the promotion he has been working his ass off for and the new job came with a lot of good things for him.

But, you couldn't hide the fact that it was gonna severely weigh on you. You and Buck had been partners since you first got promoted to detective. You both really clicked from that day forward. It was gonna take a lot to get used to not having him by your side. In this line of work you need a person you can trust one thousand percent. At the end of the day this person is in charge of your life and you're in charge of theirs. Bucky was the definition of what a partner meant to you. Which is why it was no shock that three years later you both shared an apartment and ended up falling in love. However you just knew the promotion would put a damper on that as well. You had to keep your affair hidden from the precinct and trusted very few people. When you moved in with Bucky, you weren't even allowed to update your address so every now and then you'd make your way over to your old place to pick up mail. Luckily, you hit it off with your old landlord and he helps with anything and everything you need. Although you were certain he did it to eventually get a legal favor. But you didn't mind. It bought you time with the man you love.

Being that the precinct didn't know about you and Bucky, you couldn't stop yourself from worrying about the future. He was no longer your equal. He was your boss and you were terrified of the thought of someone finding out about your relationship. It could get both of you fired or moved to different precincts. Which was the better of the two, but it would be hard to work without each other. You strongly believed what made you best at your job was having him beside you. Or at least in the same work place. This mindset also made you question if your relationship would ever progress more than it was. Of course you wanted to eventually marry Bucky but how would that work with your jobs? There were so many obstacles the two of you faced and it made you even more stressed for your first day without him.

While groaning, you rub your face. Then you gain the strength to pull yourself from the half empty bed. You make your way to the bathroom and turn on the water. Giving it time to heat up while you go grab a towel and pick out clothes for your day. After showering and getting ready, you stepped out of your shared room. The apartment is small and cozy. New York was an expensive city to live in but you both made it work. When you were looking for apartments, you didn't care where you ended up just as long as we were with each other. Being that the apartment was tiny, you could see straight into the kitchen from the hallway. Your eyes fell straight on a note besides the partially full coffee pot. You smile to yourself and walk over. You lift it off the counter and begin to read,

Good morning Doll

I hope you slept well. I left early this morning to get a head start on everything at the station. I made us coffee. I hope it's still good by the time you wake up.

Yours,

Bucky

P.S. Please grab our usual at the deli before you come in

You let out a brief chuckle at the final sentence written on the piece of paper. You grab a travel mug from the cabinet and place it in front of you. Then you proceed to grab the pot and pour it into the cup. After adding creamer and sugar, you bring the cup to your lips and take a small sip. The coffee was good but on the colder side. Therefore you pop it in the microwave while you quickly grab your belongings. When you hear the beep, you remove it and put the lid on. Carrying everything with you out of the door.

While driving to work, you swing by the deli up the road from your apartment building. You park on the busy New York street and quickly get out of your car and run inside. The bell above the door dings and Frank and Linda look up from behind the counter. You shoot them a large smile and they quickly return. The deli was owned by this sweet older couple since the early 70s. They were so kind to you and really cared for their regulars. So much so, they memorized Bucky and your order. Sometimes even having it ready before you arrive in the mornings.

"Good morning (y/n)! Where's Bucky?" Frank asks, his welcoming smile fading into a light frown. He walks toward the edge of the counter to meet you.

"Good morning! He went in early. First day of the new promotion. I'm still gonna bring him breakfast though," you explained while Linda grabbed a brown paper bag from the far counter and brought it toward you.

"Oh! Please tell him we wish him well, would you? We remember like it was yesterday when you both started coming in here. You've come a very long way and were so proud of you both," Linda said kindly. Her words turn your cheeks a dark shade of pink.

You could remember that day like it was yesterday as well. Bucky brought you here on your first day of the job and you've been coming to Frank's since.

-

"Why don't we stop and get food before we start our case? I know this amazing deli a few blocks away from the station," Detective Barnes suggests and you nod.

His gaze stays on you while you both get into his car. You slide into the passenger seat then proceed to put your seat belt on. You watch him do the same then start the car.

"So how long have you been a detective?" you ask softly, fiddling with your notebook and pen in your lap.

"Bout' 5 years or so. Rogers, the guy you met back at the precinct, he was my partner. We go way back," He replies while he pulls out of his parking spot. Beginning to make his way up the block.

You watched the busy street and took everything in with new eyes. You lived in New York your whole life but the city was still new to you. Your gaze shifts to your partner and you blushed lightly. His dark hair, calming smile and kind personality seemed to draw you in. But you pushed those thoughts away. This was professional and you knew that. However you found yourself incredibly lucky to be partnered with someone who already gave you such a welcoming homely feeling.

"Whatcha thinking about, (y/l/n)?" he asks. Shifting his attention from the road to you. His eyes connected with yours and suddenly all of your first day jitters went away.

His eye snapped back to the road and he began puling to a stop. Veering off to the right side of the road into an empty parking spot. Once his eyes snapped away, you took a deep breath and looked away as well.

"Just trying to get a good read on my partner. Making sure he's not dirty or part of something that'll get me killed," you say jokingly. You let out a laugh at your own stupid explanation and Barnes' attention quickly turned back to you. The corners of his mouth instantly went up and he shot you a toothy grin.

"Don't worry. If you're with me long enough. I'd let you in on my dirty cop side. No need to fear for your life," He joked back. Holding up his hands as if he were surrendering.

"All about the money in the end, isn't it Barnes?" You asked, continuing this forming inside joke.

"Oh definitely."

You both get out of the vehicle and you notice a big sign above the small deli. The name reading FRANK'S. You both walk inside and you smile as you're greeted by a seemingly older couple. You have been to countless deli's in New York State but this one gave you a great feeling. You didn't have family in the city. So it amazed you how quickly strangers could become such a crucial piece in your life.

-

She hands the order to you and you begin to pull out your wallet. Frank instantly puts his hand up and smiles, "Please it's on the house today. Also don't forget your coffee! Feel free to grab one for Bucky too."

"Thank you so much," was all you managed to reply with. Their utter kindness always brought so much love to your heart.

You notice you forgot the mugs so you walk out of the shop toward your car. You unlock it and pull on the passenger side door. You put the food in your car. Then lean over and grab your nearly empty travel mug from home and the spare from your car. You bring them inside so you can quickly fill them up before making a b line to work.

When you arrive, you walked into the precinct with your hands full. Doing your best to carefully get to your desk. You notice Bucky making himself at home in his new office and you can't help but feel an overwhelming amount of happiness for your boyfriend. He looks so excited and you were so incredibly proud of him. You set your coffee down then pull out your breakfast sandwich placing it on your desk. You grab the brown bag and Bucky's coffee wasting no time before you walk into his office. The man instantly looks up from his papers with a smile.

"Good morning beautiful. Is that for me?" He asks softly, keeping his voice low enough so no one hears.

"Good morning Sergeant Barnes," you say with a small smirk growing on your lips. You move closer to the desk and set everything down. "Linda and Frank gave us our food for free today. They wanted to congratulate you on the promotion. They're very proud of you."

"That's very kind of them. I needed this. Thanks for picking up the food. Rogers told me to come in early and I'm kinda glad I did because he was able to give me the full run down. Hopefully everything goes smoothly from here on out. Although it was weird coming in alone. I hope that won't become a regular thing. Despite the headache, I love our chaotic mornings," Bucky explains followed by a small chuckle. Your mind instantly recalls how usually your mornings consisted of you both fighting for space to get ready. Except you also both secretly adored the morning due to the fact Bucky loves to wake you up with light kisses.

"I agree. I really hope it's not regular. I already lost my partner, the last thing I want to lose is alone time with my boyfriend," you sigh then force a slight laugh. You didn't mean for it to come off in an upsetting way, but you realized it did when the room fell silent.

"Is my new partner coming in today?" You ask curiously, unable to find anything but awkwardness after your statement. You pay close attention to his face and notice a sour look appear. Maybe he wasn't taking it as well as you thought.

"Yeah. He should be in soon," Bucky replies and you nod. You walk out of his office and make your way to your own desk.

You unwrap your sandwich and use one hand to eat and the other to flip through your files. Taking in all of the new information for the case you are starting. You quickly finish your food then you take a large sip of your coffee. You haven't been given any information on your new partner so you wanted to make sure you knew as much as you could about your mutual assignment. Just in case you were stuck with someone inexperienced.

After about a half hour of being lost in thought while analyzing your papers, Bucky's strong voice fills the room. You look up and catch his gaze. He motions for you to come toward him; you get up from your chair and follow behind him into his office. Inside you see a man sitting in one of the two chairs across from Bucky's. He had on black dress pants, a light blue button up shirt and a black blazer. The outfit complimented his body quite well. Your focus moves up to his face, noticing his piercing blue eyes and his slightly long blonde hair. You hear a fake cough come from Bucky and instantly look at him.

"Detective (y/l/n), this is your new partner. You guys will be working the Reagan case together."

The man stands up from his chair and eyes you up and down. He finally extends his hand to you and you shake it.

"Hi, I'm Detective John Walker."

[ellewords]

coffee conversations

summary : your roommate has a habit of coming home late from work. you have a habit of staying up late to finish yours.

word count : ~1.6k

fic notes : kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, fluff, roommates au, lowercase intended

from elle ! this ended up being longer than i originally planned. it was supposed to be just a drabble then it ended up spiralling into whatever this is ;-; regardless, i had a lot of fun writing it bec my kuroo brainrot is pretty strong now sigh anyways, thank you for reading and i hope you have a lovely day ! <3

midnight.

it’s when the darkness finally settles in, but the city’s just bound to come alive; especially on a friday night, or was it saturday morning? but did that really matter? kuroo leans his head on the window, the cab ride home has always been a scenic root. multicolored lights from the buildings and billboards reflecting on his skin, the several bodies that crowded the sidewalks as they trudged their way to the nearest bar. if he asked the driver to turn down the radio, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the dull thumping of bass from each flashy establishment they passed. and he supposes he could be one of those people, an arm lazily slung around a stranger, ordering them their next drink, dancing with them until sweat covered every inch of their bare skin. he could be, and it wasn’t too long ago that he was. but recently, he’s found a reason to head straight home.    

kuroo knows exactly what he’s about to come home to, maybe that’s what excited him so much. why he nervously taps his foot on the tiled floors of the reception area, wondering if the elevator doors could open any quicker. why he speed walks his way along the carpeted hallways, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound as he made sure to keep his steps as light as possible. why his hands shake as he turns the key, opening the front door as quickly as his heart beats. all of that because he knows it’s you waiting for him.

you’re seated upright along the length of the sofa, typing away at your laptop. face illuminated by the screen’s glare, and he lets out a quiet tsk; he’s reminded you more times than he can count to turn down the brightness, you nod but never listen. your brows are furrowed and there’s a tiny crinkle in the space between them, kuroo wonders what it would be like to press a kiss right there. he shakes the thought away immediately, knowing that it would only do more harm than good to let his mind wander away like that. he watches the way your fingers move from one key to another, fast and precise, not leaving any room to breathe. you never notice when he comes home, gaze travelling from one end of the word document to the other, making sure each word is in its rightful place. kuroo knows you don’t really wait up for him, you’re just trying your best to finish the mountain of paperwork your boss had so graciously left you to do over the weekend. but for a brief moment, he lets his heart believe that you do. only for a little bit, never too long.

he has to cough to get your attention. it doesn’t get your attention the first time, having to cough maybe thrice before you remove the earphones that blasted at full volume. 

“i see you’re home from work.” you comment, already making a move to stand from the couch. but not before stretching your arms upwards; you had been sitting there typing for way too long.

kuroo smirks, stepping aside as you stood and made your way over to the kitchen. eyes glancing at the stack of paperwork you left on the coffee table, “and i see that you still haven’t escaped yours.”

“i know. how unfortunate. the usual?” you frown, placing your laptop on the kitchen counter.

he places his work bag on the couch, taking off his coat and loosening his tie, “do you even have to ask?” 

it’s like clockwork at this point. he sits on one of stools by the counter, elbows on the countertop and hands on his chin, watching you work. his eyes follow you around, mesmerized even by the simplest things: from the way you measured the coffee grounds to simply putting the coffee pot on the stove to brew. 

“why can’t we be normal and just have breakfast together or something?” you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning your body against the wall, finally making eye contact with kuroo — unaware of the fact that he had been watching you the entire time. 

he chuckles, there’s a light amusement that flashes across his features, “because i’m still asleep by the time you need to leave for work.”

“fair point,” you nod, closing your eyes in slight frustration as you’re reminded of all the things that you needed to accomplish by the time the sun rises. you have reports to write, presentations to prepare; wondering if any of this was even worth it. “why do i even need to work? is it not enough to lounge around the apartment all day watching tv?”

“you need to pay your half of the rent.” kuroo jokes, shaking his head. he waits for you to laugh, or at least come up with some clever retort. but you stay silent, finally opening your eyes to look at him, and he sees it. there’s tiredness, there’s stress — emotions he’s sure is evident in his own. “you alright?”

you shrug your shoulders before they return to their slumped position, gaze briefly flickering towards the coffee pot before placing them back on kuroo, “there’s nothing i can do.”

“you know you can quit, right, yn?” kuroo speaks before he thinks, eyes widening at his own question, “i don’t mind shouldering the rent for a little bit until you find something less exhausting.”

it’s your turn to laugh this time, “and have you working overtime even more? no thanks. you’re sweet though.”

sweet. kuroo notes, you think he’s sweet? heat rises to his cheeks, a faint flush coloring them in the process. never had he been more grateful for the dimness of the lights, the room just dark enough to not make it noticeable. “for your information, i work overtime because i actually like my job. and how else am i going to have these conversations with you?”

you raise a brow, he had a point there. despite sharing the same space, you and kuroo had a habit of missing each other for most of the day. you leave early in the mornings and he still hasn’t arrived by the time you get back in the afternoon.  

“didn’t expect that you look forward to these.” you smile, turning off the stove once you notice the dark liquid boiling, signalling that it was ready. the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as you grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “which one do you want?”

you hold two different mugs towards him. one you had gotten him as a souvenir from a business trip to kyoto, the other he had gotten you while on vacation in osaka. kuroo points to the one that you had gotten him, “of course, i look forward to these. it’s the highlight of my day.”

“your days must be terribly boring then.” you comment, placing the mugs on the counter and taking a seat on the stool beside his.

“no,” he protests almost immediately, a little too sudden actually. kuroo blinks back once he’s realized that he’s startled you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, “i just like spending time with you.” 

a sigh leaves both of your lips at the first sip of coffee, the warmth spreading across the entirety of your bodies. it’s quiet for these few moments, where you and kuroo just sit back and take everything in. the chill in your apartment, the heat from the mugs, the distant sounds of city nightlife, the almost yellow glow of the light fixture that hung above you, the way your elbows accidentally brushed the other’s. there’s silence, but there’s a ringing in your ears that neither of you could avoid. your hearts beat uncontrollably fast. but that must be the caffeine. at least that’s what you try to convince yourself.

but kuroo liked to think that he knew himself better, that he was actually honest with himself. it isn’t the caffeine that made his heart race past midnight, when all you had to do was look at him in the way you usually do. head tilted to the side, hanging on to every word that left his lips, nodding along to whatever he ranted about, eyes travelling over his face like you were memorizing each and every feature, the corner of you lips flicked upward. it’s like looking in a mirror, he knows he looked at you like that too. and maybe, just maybe, he allows himself once more to believe that you could possibly like him back. 

“if it means anything,” you speak, cutting through the silence as you recalled the last thing he said before you took your first sips, “i like spending time with you too.”

and it does mean something to him. to kuroo, it meant the world. he’s aware that there are other ways he could be spending his time. he could be dancing it up in a club, on his seventh shot of whatever the bartender decides to hand him, arms around some stranger whose name he was going to forget when the day breaks. he could be in bed, asleep, finally letting exhaustion catch up to him as he crashed face first into the soft pillows. but no, he’s here with you. your arm accidentally grazing his every now and then, resting your head on his shoulder as you rant about the day you’ve had, or placing a hand there to steady yourself when you laugh just a little too hard at his jokes and stories, knowing that his attempts of making you feel better are slowly beginning to work. 

there’s nowhere else he’d rather be past midnight than in the kitchen of your shared apartment, complimenting you on making the best cup of coffee he’s ever had.

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[littlemisslipbalm]

“I know you, Harry Styles”

Summary: Your boss asks you to quarantine at his house to watch over the place and his dog. He then calls you let you know a friend of his has gotten stuck in Los Angeles and needs a place to stay, so he has offered his friend the home that you are also going to be staying at. His friend is Harry Styles. Harry and you get to know each other while you both navigate through this uncertain time. 

I’ve had this idea for awhile and im sorry if it’s a little late now, since strict quarantine has ended (lowkey might be coming back since california has been getting bad again), but still i really liked this and wanted to write it. Also look at how cute this sidelook from Harry is in this gif ^^ :) his nose is so slopey

It hasn’t been the easiest write so no worries if y’all hate it. I might do a part 2, but def no part 3 this time, unless it gets easier to write. 

Word Count: 4.5k | Warnings: mentions of quarantine and Coronavirus (pls take care if the situation is triggering to you), language, drinking 

Enjoy! (Feedback appreciated as always)

-

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided. 

“You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never.”

-

You were living in Los Angeles when the Coronavirus outbreak first arrived in the United States and California went into quarantine. You lived in a pretty small apartment in Silver Lake and you weren’t excited to be cooped in there, alone for at least the two weeks they had just announced. The governor issued that everything would be shut down by morning and you had to admit you were a little stressed. Just as you were about to walk into your apartment and lock the door, ready to shelter in, your boss and friend of yours called.

“Hey Y/N,” David said quickly over the phone, “You know how I’ve just left for England two days ago and I’m already here. Well, since I’m not a U.S. citizen, I can’t come back. Which is fine, but I was just wondering if you’d mind quarantining at my house and just watching over it? Until I can get back?”

You sighed, “Oh my god, David. I’m so sorry.” “The U.S. announced their border closure so strangely, I couldn’t have known...But it’s fine, really, I’m actually kind of happy to be home.” You nodded as if he could see you.

“So do you think you can do it? I’ve been having my neighbor check in on my dog, daily, but I’d prefer a friend to be at the house with him right now.”

“Oh! Yeah of course, I’ll pack a bag and head over right now. I’m honestly relieved you’ve given me this offer. You’re house is fucking huge and my apartment is tiny.” David chuckled at your slow response but happy tone.

You were right, David did have a nice house. His place was up in the Los Angeles Hills, a place he’d inherited from a wealthy grandparent. It was definitely going to be an upgrade for quarantine. David’s place would make it easier to be alone because of his cute little dog around, a swimming pool, a beautiful kitchen, literally anything you could have asked for.  You drove up the long driveway, to the rustic house, David refused to call a classic 70’s mansion as much as you insisted upon it.

“Guess it doesn’t matter what I call it now, huh.” You said to no one. You pulled out your spare key, David had given to you for emergencies when you had started working directly under him. You opened the door and stepped inside to the empty mansion. Checkers, David’s dog came running up to you, pawing your legs and howling his tiny voice at your arrival. You smiled, setting down your bags and grabbing Checkers from the ground. “Hi, baby!” You swung him around and he licked your face adoringly. You ruffled his fur and then placed him back on the ground, he wasn’t more than eleven pounds.

Then you went to find your bedroom. You heard your footsteps echoing throughout the empty house and it definitely felt weird. Being alone, in this big house. You wondered why you had to keep convincing yourself it was so great. Then your phone rang for the second time today. David again. You threw your bags at the foot of the guest bed and walked back through the house to the main room adjoined to the kitchen, near the front door.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Y/N, thanks for picking up! And thank you for agreeing to watch the house -”

“Yeah, of course, I’m just settling in.”

“That’s great! But, I hope you don’t mind, a friend of mine has similar luck to me. He was just supposed to be in Los Angeles for a couple days, but he’s gotten stranded there and has nowhere else to go. He’s a good friend of mine and the house is most definitely big enough for two…” He trailed off, slightly anxious to put you out, when you had already been generous enough to leave the comfort of your own place during this stressful time. “So, I told him he could stay at mine, if he didn’t mind living with a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger?” You asked, slightly confused from what David was saying.

“Yeah, yeah I mean, I told him you were a friend and that you worked with me, obviously.” You laughed with some relief, “Ok, I’ve got you. That’s fine, more than fine, he’s got nowhere to go, it’d be rude of me to say no to him joining me in this mansion,” You got a little excited and emphasized the mansion.

David groaned, but finished, “Well, great! Because I’m pretty sure he’s already on his way. Bye!” The line went dead.

You wouldn’t say you were unhappy that you were going to be sharing the house. The loneliness of the empty house had grown daunting the minute you heard your footsteps. But you realized David hadn’t even given you the name of the man you were going to be living with for supposedly the next two weeks. As well, what if you and the man didn’t get along and were at each other’s throats for two weeks.

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying not to make any presumptions. Then, you began to put away the groceries you had brought with you from your apartment and refilled Checkers’ water bowl.

Maybe twenty minutes after your phone call with David, informing you of your quarantine housemate, the doorbell rang and you jogged lazily to the foyer with the grand front door.

In front of you stood, a man with mop of dark brown hair on his head, some large green eyes, a nice outfit, and an array of tattoos peeking out from under different parts of his clothing. Wait- you thought - this isn’t some random tall, good-looking white guy. And then it dawned on you. David would be close friends with Harry Styles. This is so typical of that man. And for him to never tell you that before. That is especially David, trying to keep this guy all to himself.

“Hi, I’m David’s friend, he said he’d call ahead and let you know, I’m ‘Arry,” he rested one of his bags on the ground and reached out to shake your hand. You blinked your eyes, still a little surprised at who your roommate was going to be, but determined to be chill about it. You then reached out your hand to meet his. You took note of the largeness of his hands and how soft they were. His hand slid perfectly in yours and his eyes intensely gazed at you in the hallway.

“Yeah, he called, I’m Y/N.” You released his hand after realizing you still had hold of it, just a touch too long. You stepped aside to let Harry bring his things into the house. “Do you need any help with your bags?” You asked quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Harry turned to you as he had just stepped into the house and was exactly beside you, he quirked his head, “Oh no, I’m alright, no need to worry about me.”

“Okay,” you simply responded and walked back into the kitchen. You had left your phone in there and still had some things to organize, David didn’t keep his house as clean or organized as you liked it. You always set to work around his house whenever you came by, no matter his protests. Music was playing from your phone over the bluetooth speakers David had in the house, a mix of random songs for the month that you had compiled a couple weeks ago. It was a mix of your favorite artists: oldies and some newer stuff. You turned it up as you got to work.

Your music played loud enough that you didn’t hear Harry walk into the kitchen. “Hey,” he said. Startled, you flipped yourself to face him, discarding the box of cereal you were moving to be with the other cereals.

“What’s up?”

“I know we don’t know each other,” Harry started. You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with this. “And I’m fine if you don’t want to really interact, but I was actually kind of excited to find out that I wasn’t going to have to be all alone in this house for two weeks.”

Your lips quirked up in about a half smile as a soft chuckle came out. You rested back on the countertop behind you, feeling more relaxed at the rest of Harry’s statement. Harry stared at your figure still taking in the stranger in front of him. You seemed fairly laid back and he liked the music he heard from the speakers, assuming it was your selection.

“Oh. Yeah,” you began, scratching your head, “I know, I was excited to not have to be in my apartment, but then when I got here I got lowkey scared of being here with just myself and Checkers.”

“Wait, Checkers is here?” Harry’s mood and tone immediately picked up, looking excitedly around for the little dog. “I think he’s outside,” you said, crossing to one of the many back doors. You called for David’s dog, you and Harry’s third roommate, and he came leaping through the door.

He ran to Harry and Harry knelt to grab the dog and pick him back up. He twirled Checkers around over his head and kept repeating “Who’s a good boy” before placing the dog on one of the couches. On the couch, Harry playfully flipped the dog on his back and scratched his belly. Checkers wiggled and opened his mouth trying to nip playfully at Harry. Harry in turn put his head right near Checkers’ and shook his own fluffy hair in the dog’s face. Checkers went wild, loving the attention he was receiving.

After a bit, Harry let Checkers go and stood up, you had been watching on amusedly, “God, I love this dog, so fucking cute,” he said. You were surprised Harry knew David well enough to know his dog, but you dismissed it. Then, you laughed and agreed with him.

“Well, do you want to get to know each other over dinner tonight?” Harry inquired as you walked back into the kitchen, still trying to finish your self-given task of cleaning it up. “Sure, why not?”

-

It was the dinner time you and Harry had agreed upon. You had showered and unpacked over the past few hours. Harry, from what you knew, had done the same. You two hadn’t talked much more since he had suggested the dinner. The guest room he had chosen was on the second floor, like yours, just down the hall. After checking the time on your phone, you left your room and went downstairs. You found Harry on the couch with Checkers, reading a book. You tapped his shoulder from behind the couch and he turned his head to look up at you. “We said 7, right?” He snapped his book shut after raising her brows, coming out of a reading trance. “Oh, yeah,” he responded, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen. You followed after him, “So what do you want to eat. I brought some groceries with me so we could cook something or there’s always take out.”

Harry opened the fridge, “Let’s make something, yeah?” He leaned back from the inside of the fridge and threw a smile to you over his shoulder. He was very confident and charismatic in person you had noticed just from the few odd moments you had spent with him already. You liked his music and felt like you should tell him you knew who he was, but you also liked the feeling you got that you were just two normal people living together for a little.

“Alright,” you began, walking to his side to look into the fridge as well, “Any requests, Harry?”

You looked up at his face, he was quite tall, taller than you had really thought. He was a really big figure up close, slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He simply demanded attention just with his presence, something strong emanating from him. You could see that strength in the lines of his jaw, lined in stubble, his green eyes set deeper in his head, the sinews in his neck. In every part of his body, there was strength, yet he spoke with a kindness about him. You were extremely interested in getting to know more about him, for this very reason. How could such a big, intimidating man in size and presence be known for being so kindhearted and in touch with himself and the world? What was his secret?

Harry simply began to remove various items from the fridge, placing them down on the island behind the two of you. He only said in response to your previous question, “Like Mexican?” You nodded and laughed, you’d grown up on Mexican food.

“I was thinking fajitas would be good, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely, how can I help?”

Harry grinned at your attitude, he could tell you were the really fun, easy-going type of person. He was glad you weren’t being weird with him, even if he was a stranger. He finished taking the ingredients from the fridge and then gave you instructions on what he needed help with. The two of you set to work, this time it was Harry’s music playing over the speakers.

-

You sat at the dining table in the next room over from the kitchen and seating area. Harry had told you to go ahead as he finished your plates of food. Moments later, he walked into the room holding the plates. “Ta-da!” He exclaimed while presenting the two plates of food, that looked admittedly, very tasty.

He had changed his outfit from earlier and you were just now noticing. Earlier, it had been a striped dress shirt that he had dressed down with rolled up sleeves and half of the buttons undone, revealing a nice string of pearls, with navy high waisted trousers that cinched at his slender waist. Now, he was in a simple purple knit sweater and brown corduroy flares, still wearing the pearls around his neck. Neither of you were wearing shoes, both wearing only socks. And while Harry might consider that to be a more casual outfit, you were in leggings and a hoodie with a sun on it that you had thrifted awhile ago.

He sat down across from you after placing one plate on the placemat in front of you. The dining table was huge, meant for dinner parties and entertaining, not a traveler and a young employee. You took a bite and hummed in appreciation, but then said, “Wait.”

Harry stopped eating and looked at you, concerned there was something wrong with his cooking. “Red wine,” you stated. Harry’s worried face grew into a grin. “Red wine,” he echoed in agreement and nodded his head. You hopped up from your seat and ran into the kitchen, looking for the cabinet David kept his wine in.

After finding a reasonable Malbec, a favorite red of yours, you grabbed an opener, two glasses, and went back into the dining room where the munching Harry awaited. He was happily chewing his food as he gazed at you as you placed the glasses between your plates, uncorked the bottle with ease, and grabbed the glasses once more to pour the wine.

Finally, you sat down and said, “To whatever the fuck we are about to get ourselves into.” Harry laughed and offered a “Salud” in response. The two of your glasses clinked and you both drank, afterwards setting off to eat your food.

As you ate, you began to talk. Harry started, “So, you work with David?” while taking his fork and stabbing at a cooked bell pepper slice. You finished chewing, “Ah, yeah, he’s my boss. But we work pretty closely, I’m kind of like a personal assistant, but I do more than just his scheduling and errands.” Harry nods.

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided. “You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never. I would’ve definitely just told you who I was if you didn’t know, but it’s nice to pretend for a little.” He grinned as he said the words, his elbow resting on the table with his wine glass in hand. You ate some more, letting his words linger in the air. It’s nice to pretend for a little.

“Well,” you finally said, “I won’t give you any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a guy staying at the same house as me. Doesn’t matter to me what you do to pay your bills.”

Harry liked that. You were very intriguing, the way you spoke to him. Especially now that he was sure that you knew about his music and celebrity. “You make it sound like I’m a sex worker or something naughty!” he said, feeling more comfortable with you with the more time that passed and the more wine he had.

“It’s kind of the same thing...providing a service - that your body is an essential part of providing it properly.” You stated smugly, looking over at Harry from behind the rim of your glass. “And there’s nothing wrong with sex workers,” you added.

“You’re right,” he stopped, wanting to continue the conversation, but confused how to move on from sex workers. “So what do you think of my music?”

“I thought you wanted to be treated like you weren’t a celebrity,” you countered.

“That’s out the window, c’mon,” he said, leaning forward.

“You just want me to boost your ego,” you smirked, liking the banter that was coming so easily between you two, “Like I said, I know you, Harry Styles.”

He scoffed at your teasing and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually annoyed, he was enjoying this. “Then you’re a fan, huh?” Not letting it go without you saying how you felt about his music.

“Fine,” you sang slightly, shifting in your seat. “Your music,” you paused again, enjoying Harry eager to hear your opinion and you being in control, “is better than a lot of other modern stuff considered good by today’s standards.”

“So you like it?” He said slowly. That was probably the most roundabout, vague compliment he had ever heard. He picked at his almost empty plate, still staring at you.

You tilted your head and placed it on your palm, looking to the sky as if you were thinking about his question hard. Finally, you shifted your head in your palm so you were looking at Harry wearily. Then you shut one eye and said, “I guess,” before shrugging your shoulders as if you didn’t care at all. Harry let a single blow of air out of his nose, like a short laugh, before standing and taking both of your plates. As he walked out of the room he whistled lowly, “You are such a tease, Y/N.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and you heard him cleaning up. You were about to call out to him and say how he didn’t have to do the cleaning since he did the majority of the cooking, but then your eyes fell to the half drunk bottle of wine. Normally, you’d re-cork it and drink the rest at a later date, but it was still early in the evening and you and Harry literally had nowhere to go. Also, the two of you hadn’t gotten past the work question of getting to know you. There was still a bit more to learn about each other and you were happy to continue to discuss over wine.

Harry reemerged from the kitchen and you held up the wine bottle to him and waved it, “We need to finish this.”

“Have I told you yet that I like the way you think?” Harry walked over and grabbed the bottle from your hand. He quickly poured both your glasses much fuller than the usual standard glass of wine. When you eyed him curiously about the heavy pour, he only shrugged practically saying it’s just us drinking it who cares if we fill up our glasses extra full.

“No you haven’t, but I like the way I think too! I’m very smart you know,” you said with some play in your voice as you walked through a doorway that led to the sitting room. Harry trailed behind, bringing the now less than full bottle with him. You both sat yourselves on the couch, a fair amount of space between the two of you, not too close, but not too far apart either.

You both took long gulps of the wine. You were starting to feel a little warm from it, but you enjoyed where the wine was taking your conversation so you weren’t planning on stopping. Harry’s big green eyes squinted slightly at you from behind his wine glass, similar to how you had done earlier. He lowered it and licked his lips. There was definite tension between the two of you right now. Maybe you both had realized the implications of being alone with a stranger for two weeks with no interruptions and no distractions. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating because all you wanted to do was keep teasing Harry and have him keep baiting you.

Harry asked a question suddenly, breaking the silent staring that had been going on. And the tension was broken the two of you continuing your getting to know you for the rest of the night. By eleven, the bottle was empty and forgotten on the coffee table and you and Harry had scooted closer. You had similar likes and dislikes when it came to music. You talked about fashion and what it was like to get to wear top designers all the time - Harry being the wearer, not you sadly. You asked him what it was like to tour and he asked you more about your job and living in Los Angeles, how it was to not walk around the place and be bombarded with people. Then, you circled back to travel.

“I’ve been lucky enough to travel a lot in my life, too. I traveled with my family as a kid and I made sure my job would have me traveling around, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry took the last sip of his wine and set the glass down, readjusting himself to lean on his arm on the couch, looking at you.

“Was supposed to be with David in England, actually, but I got held up and was going to join him next week,” you mused, finishing your wine as well and leaning your body so your back was fully against the back cushion.

“No way, I was supposed to leave next week, too. Who knows, maybe we would have been on the same plane and crossed paths like that without even knowing,” Harry said excitedly.

You rolled your head to the right and looked at his face, how it had lit up at that unlikely prospect. “You probably wouldn’t have known, but I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell, probably have a whole crowd of fans there waiting for you, end up having to delay the plane for ya’. And I’d be sitting there like ‘which famous prick is holding us up?”

“Oi!” he swatted at your leg closest to him, “Has anyone told you you’re a bit mean.”

You raised your brows at his physical contact and his words. You shifted to your side again and slid your legs beneath you, looking directly at Harry. “Yes,” you said seriously.

Harry laughed at that. At least you were honest, and you were funny, too. You joined his laughter, it felt contagious, the way his voice was so loud, but so jovial. His eyes managed to twinkle even as he squinted, his smile taking over his entire face.

Without either of you noticing, the two of you had shifted extremely close to one another. You finally realized because you felt Harry’s breath fanning over your face. His breath smelled of Malbec, but his over scent mixed with it and turned it into something enticing. You wanted to lean in more, but the only place further to go was his lips.

Harry’s eyes flickered to meet yours, confused yet delighted about the situation he had somehow gotten himself in. The two of you breathing in each other, chests heaving from laughter, hearts beating from wine, and bodies ready to ignite the minute they touched. You remained there for a few moments more, basking in his glow.

And then you whispered, “I should go to bed.” You pulled away and retreated upstairs to your room. Harry was left there, sitting stunned at the whole situation. How had that happened? And what had you just stopped from happening?  You were thinking the very same things as you sat down on your bed and calmed your breathing.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

-

Part 2

taglist: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, 

[dannobfg]

So this is probably going to sound privileged as fuck...but when I moved in to the apartment where I am now, there was already an agreement with a cleaning lady to come clean every two weeks, early on a Saturday morning.

Now, I usually work Monday to Friday and get up quite early. So, on Saturdays what I most want is to sleep in a bit. Especially if I got to bed a bit later on friday, like I did yesterday. And when I say sleep in, I mean it. I wanna sleep 12 hours or however long my body lets me. No alarms.

I don't have a problem with the cleaning lady. She does an excellent job and leaves everything spotless. And her pay is included in what I pay for rent here, which is a good thing!

The first few weeks when I was here, I felt super uncomfortable having someone clean my place. I mean, I still don't like it much. It's my mess, I keep it more or less clean anyway, and cleaning can be a therapeutic thing sometimes.

My main problem is that I can't sleep in, and when I get forcedly woken, I can't get up and use the bathroom or make coffee or just be, in my own house, because there is a stranger cleaning. And I feel terrible if immediately after she's just cleaned something I make it dirty in front of her. So like, don't walk on the just washed floors, don't make food on the just cleaned surfaces, don't brush your teeth or shave in the just cleaned sink...and this goes on for about 3 hours because she's not exactly fast...

Add to this that when I don't get awoken by her, my flatmate makes so much noise when he gets up, like omg it's ridiculous. The amount of mornings he's got up before me and I have been brought back from the depths of slumber, startled by a loud bang, thud, or the opening of a door or window. It's insane.

I hate being woken up. And I hate being forced to do things. I like to get up at my own pace. Sometimes that's faster, sometimes that's slower. And on Saturday's like today, I feel robbed of the little moments that give me peace and it's frustrating.

I'll be adding these things to the list of reasons I want to move out...

I'm so stressed about finding a new place to live. The nicest and cheapest thing I saw was for just under 600€ a month. 1 room, 1 bathroom. A tiny place. And further away from work.

I think there is literally no way I will be able to afford an apartment for myself. And that means having to share again. Which means getting to known new people. Which could go great, or could go badly. And I just don't have the energy for that. Plus I don't want to be judged for living my life the way I want or for doing things the way I like.

[sparetimeimagines]

Trust Me

Todoroki Shōto x Reader

Tags; Angst, Fluff, PTSD, Mentions of Abuse

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Masterlist

“Can I Stay Here Tonight?”

It was a simple question he asked so many years ago. You were fresh out of high school in a raggedy apartment you were less than proud of. It was raining that day. The weather was horrible and showed no signs of letting up, so you felt more than obligated to host the hero. For many years you learned to allow him to accept you into his battered heart. You were both merely kids starting the academy with no idea what this life would hold for you, or the capabilities your powers would hold.

You were both just starting out in the hero world. He was signed to a better company than you were, but that didn’t bother you. His job was far more dangerous than yours was. He was Mr. Icy Hot, while you were merely a healer.

Todoroki felt the need to endlessly remind you of your validity in this world.

“What would I do with myself if you weren’t here?” He’d say like a catchphrase each time he would come to you for aid.

It started simple; a cut on his cheek. A sprained thumb. He would drop by because he learned your schedule.

But then he grew comfortable. That broken arm turned into late night chats with warm beverages and homemade desserts. Those abrasions along his back turned into take out and a movie.

Until one day - one day he kissed you.

It was delicate. His soft lips trembled, touch starved and terrified of the future. He took a chance different from the ones he chose in combat. Because this time he wasn’t risking his skin or bones; he was risking his heart. His emotions. He was risking his trust and years of comforting friendship.

So when you kissed him back, your nurturing fingers grazing his forearms in surprise, he couldn’t help himself. His stomach was doing cartwheels and his heart was leaping for joy. His fragile lips curled into a tiny smile, and he never felt like he wanted something so much in his life. He had never felt the need to protect something and keep it safe more than when he saw you.

Everyday, he would watch you from across the room or from your side and question, “How did I find you?” Or “How, out of everyone in this world, how did you become mine?”

It amazed him every single day that someone so kind, so loving came into his life and chose him. He fell asleep everyday praying to whatever higher up being that you would stay safe, that nothing would ever happen to you. Because to him, you were a Godsend.

It amazed him that someone like you even existed. Because good things didn’t happen to people like him. His own mother who brought him life abused him. He didn’t believe he was capable of being loved.

Admired, of course. But the strangers did not know him. They didn’t know Shoto the person. They knew Shoto the hero. But to be loved... by someone who wanted nothing more than to see him smile... it was unbelievable.

Then he moved in. He wanted to see you everyday. He wanted to know what it was like to hear you breathing at 3:30 in the morning. He wanted to see your sleepy smile at 10:30 at night. He wanted it all. It was more than seeing you when he needed you. It was being there for you when you needed him. He was smitten. Lovestruck.

It was that night, when he finally let his guard down, exposing himself for the first time naked. Not just physically, but mentally. When he took his guard down, letting you see him for who he was, it just the first time in his when he truly felt vulnerable. It was scary, no- terrifying. His heart was in his throat. The moonlight hit you perfectly, enhancing every spot he wanted to kiss, because to him, every part of your being was perfect.

Your body, your mind, your soul.

He wanted to feel your soft skin under his finger tips, to kiss those crevices that never have been exposed to another. He wanted every part of your being.

He was gentle, because he knew what it was like to get hurt -to be broken. He knew right then and there, that no matter what would happen in life, as long as he was breathing, no one was ever going to touch you.

When you shared your breaths and bodies, you shared your mind and soul.

He knew he wanted to be with you forever.

You got a cat. She was white and cute. She curled in his lap after he’d come home from defending your city from a villain. She introduced him to a new side he didn’t know existed. It was a love different from what was familiar with. She awoken the love to nurture. He wasn’t prepared to care for something else who completely depended on him in a different language. That different love made him feel something completely different.

“Let’s have a baby.” His heterochromic eyes suggested with the brightest orbs of hope.

“I beg your pardon?” You choked on your coffee catching reality, it was far too early in the morning for you to be hearing his wild suggestions.

“You heard me. A baby. Wouldn’t it be fun? To raise something just like us? We would make this perfect little hero and they could have both our quirks!” It all spewed from his mouth far too fast for him to realize what he meant.

Then it hit him.

The realization for the first time in his life he sounded like his father, and that terrified him. His eyes grew big and his heart begins beating too fast for him to keep up.

He didn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t want to be an abusive, manipulative evil creature.

He stumbles backwards in shock and collapses in the chair behind him.

His eyes huge, Shoto checked out from reality and into his head, where you felt the need to rescue him.

“Shoto? Darling, are you ok?” You bring your two fingers to his neck, feeling the carotid artery for his pulse.

Immediately he jolts his hand forward, rejecting yours with a fire-fueled burn.

“Don’t you touch me!” He jumps to his feet and bursts into flames on the left side of his body.

It was so uncharacteristic of him; there was no way he was in his right mind. But you didn’t know that for sure, and you weren’t going to be the one targeted again.

“Shoto. Shoto please snap out of it.” You feel tears form in your eyes, overwhelmed from the burn, overwhelmed by the scene.

You cowered on the floor away from his flame he produced.

“Shoto, please.” You pleaded with him, the first tear carving down your cheek. “Shoto, please wake up. Please snap out of it.” He hovers over your body, his face possessed by the trauma of his past. You knew he loved you. You knew he wouldn’t be the one to hurt you intentionally, right?

However, as of this moment, you were terrified.

“Shoto.” You try again, your body paralyzed in fear. “It’s me, Y/n. I need you to come home.” You were desperate. You just wanted him to come to.

And he did.

His flames diffuse, but when he sees you on the ground shaken by terror, his heart crumbles.

Shoto’s knees give in and his eyes turn to sobs whilst they shift from you to his hands and back to your terrified eyes.

“I-I’m a monster.” He chokes in disbelief then notices your blistered hand. “Oh, Love, your hand...” he extends his frosted hand to your aid, however you quiver in fear. “Baby please. Baby, I didn’t... I didn’t mean it. Please Baby. You- you have to believe me.” He sobs on his knees attempting to come closer.

“Shoto... please... just stay there.” You wave him away cautiously with your well hand. “Don’t- don’t come any closer.”

It broke him. The one person he loved more than life itself was begging him to stay away from her.

His lover won’t let him touch her. She won’t let him comfort him when she’s hurt.

He watches her with devastation as she creates distance between them, and that kills him.

This was never supposed to happen. He’s only used his quirk for love. To warm his hand when your stomach aches, to heat the bed when snow falls outside in winter. To bring you warmth when you’re too tired to find a blanket.

But instead, he brought you pain and terror. What kind of monster hurts someone he loves?

Unable to watch you in pain, he bolts out the door. The thought that he was the one that put you in that position made him sick. He had to leave.

You didn’t see him for a week.

The first day was the hardest. You weren’t mad at him. You had time to think, and realize the reason behind his action was fear. Fear had possessed him. Fear had taunted him fro his childhood trauma. The fear that he is hurt and not taking care of himself. The fear that he may never come home. You healed your hand the best you could, but with you being under so much stress, it wasn’t your best work.

The second day, you became more worried. There was no sign of Shoto. No message, no missing clothes or food from the cupboard misplaced. He was completely missing.

Day three you went back to work. The weekend was over, not like heroes got a day off, but you worked with a company like healthcare. Heroes came in and out all day, but not one was your Shoto. No flowers dropped off like he always had. No lunch dates where he would let you have the last strawberry like he always had. No fans gasping in awe at the great hero with red and white hair.

On day four you were beginning to grow used to not seeing him, that is until the news cameras caught him on camera with Deku fighting a villain. Your heart pounded and you felt tears bound in your eyes. You loved to watch Shoto on the television in action. Sure, he worried you, but he always made his way back home to you. But this time, you cried because you were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed because you realized how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by how caught off guard you were seeing him for the first time in days. You choked watching him. He wasn’t on his best performance. He looked distracted, and as much as you wanted to see him, this was not the place nor the reason you desired... right?

Day five came and gone with you flipping through the channels with your cat on your lap, desperately looking for Shoto on every channel, if only to catch a glance. You needed to see him. You just had to see him.

Day six was when you began to feel sick. You were sick from the worry caused from waiting for him. Your stomach couldn’t take it waiting for the news if he’s coming back or not. You needed him to come home.

On day seven, you were exhausted. You hadn’t slept well without him by your side. The way he breathed soothed you. The way his presence filled the left side of the bed made you feel safe. The lack of way he kept the bed warm -like he promised- turned you cold. You just wanted him back.

You a settled on his tshirt with the graphic design. It was simple, but my god it smelt heavenly. His scent locked into the shirt with a purpose and you’d be damned if someone was going to pry it off you.

The power shuts off just after sundown and the home is completely black.

Maybe a car hit a power line.

You couldn’t sleep anyway, not without Shoto, so you decided maybe it would alright for a midnight stroll.

You slipped on your boots and zipped up the first jacket you saw, Shoto’s. It was impossible to let him go.

You grab your cellphone and watch your reflection with the tired eyes as you meet the door.

Though as you reach to turn the handle to leave, the door opens on its own.

Before your eyes with disbelief you see him. Your eyes are blurry and before you can focus them, you feel him.

His embrace; the walls of your castle.

His smell; the fragrance of choice.

His touch; the foundation of your peace.

“I’m so sorry, Love.” He sniffles into your hair. “I left because I was afraid. I didn’t want to hurt you again. I couldn’t handle seeing you like that as a result of my actions.”

He holds you with delicacy, his hands in your hair, cupping you close to his face. He inhales longer than ever. The sweet scent he missed when he was away; his comfort. He feels himself weep, a powerful reaction he swore he has never felt before. He never felt the need to be so close to anyone or anything before. And coming so close to losing you, you couldn’t take the chance again.

“There was a villain. He’s out and the others are after him. But I had to see you. I had to make sure you were safe.” He cups your face. “God, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, bringing you into his chest. You feel tears form in your eyes as he continues. “Seeing you in pain is something I never would have dreamt of. It’s something I never want to see again.” His broken low voice is barely audible, but his lips pressed to yours was everything. “I’m not him. I never want to be him. I want you in my life forever, and I hope one day you will trust me again.” In his hand, he gently reaches for your injured hand ready for another round of healing. “This will never happen again.” He slowly brings them to his lips. “as long as I’m breathing.”

[crescentsteel]

Just Friends - Part 7

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: sexual tension, slow burn word count: 7.2k 

A.N:

- Finally!! I'm so glad to finally release this. October was so hectic and I'm a very slow writer. - I'm so sorry for the mistakes on the previous chapters. No one beta reads for me. So I went back and edited Chapters 3-6. - So sorry for the word vomit on this chapter. I was out of control. - Thank you for all the nice comments!! I swear. They keep me fired up and inspired.  - As always, lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my works,

Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list

“No! It’s not what you think!”

Kuroo almost laughs at how cliche you sounded, a typical response of someone who’s been caught red-handed. You’re about to chase Kenma, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Maybe you should wear your shirt before you go after ‘im.” He tries to hide the mirth in his expression and tone. Your face is so red, you look like you’re about to burst. He also doesn’t want to add up more to the awkwardness you might feel later, so he’s gonna let this one slide. He’ll just pretend that the massage thing was as harmless as it should be. 

You put your shirt in a jumble and walk briskly to Kenma. He follows at his normal pace, settling behind you when he catches up to you and Kenma.

“Sorry about that,” you laugh nervously. “He was just giving me a back massage.”

It was kinda the truth, but Kenma looks dubious. 

“It sounded more than a massage.”

He covers his lips with his back hand so he wouldn’t laugh. Although his rascal self wants to tease you more, he can’t let you feel any more embarrassed than this. He looks at Kenma and shakes his head minutely with a knowing look, hinting not to push the subject any further. 

“Naah. Y/n here is just really stressed so she moans like she’s being fucked.” Okay, maybe he couldn’t completely let it slide after all. 

You irritatedly look at him and punch his arm with more force than usual. “Piss off,” you hiss. 

He dramatically rubs the arm you just hit. “Ow! So violent.”

Kenma ignores the antics and just passes by you two. He’s about to plop himself on the couch, but pauses. He instead gets a chair and seats himself there.

You couldn’t overlook that. Obviously, in Kenma’s mind, you and Kuroo were doing something indecent there so he doesn’t want to be in it. You want to clear it up to Kenma that you really weren’t doing anything of that sort. Well, you were about to pounce on Kuroo, but still, it didn’t actually happen. 

In a way, you’re relieved that Kenma interrupted at the right time. You might have done something you will harrowingly regret afterwards.

“Don’t sweat it, y.n. He just misinterpreted it.” Kuroo’s unusually magnanimous today. It’s strange. He wouldn’t have lived this down on a regular day. Maybe it's because of your no sex relationship? Still, this is aberrant of him. He shouldn’t fail to notice how that last  moan of yours was not of comfort. 

“Right?” He adds, his eyes gauging your own.

So that’s how it is. He is aware. But he’s giving you the option to disregard what just almost happened. You’re relieved, but also confused at the tiny shards of disappointment prickling in your chest. This is what you wanted, for you to avoid sex and Kuroo in the same room. It shouldn’t be confusing.

You look down and break away from the eye contact. You put a hand on your hip and the other on your temple, which then moves to brush your hair back.

With a long, audible puff, you speak.

“Of course, it was nothing,” you return to his gaze with a dry expression to camouflage the lie behind your words. But at the same time, you also wait for him to say something or for his eyes to show something other than indifference. You don’t know what it is you want or expect, but you wait for it. You’ll know it when you see it. 

It doesn’t come though as he shrugs it off like it was nothing. 

Disappointed, that’s what you are. You don’t like the feeling, but you are.

—

You ring your driver again, hoping that this time he’ll finally answer. If he doesn’t get to you any soon, you’ll be late for your shoot. You can’t be late for this shoot in particular. Mitsuki’s the creative director. She’s a very pleasant one, but she absolutely hates tardiness. No exceptions. She gets all sour and crank when someone’s late. 

The other end of the line picks up. “Ms l/n. I’m so sorry. One of the tires got flat. I need to change it, but I’m still stuck in traffic.”

Of all the days to get a flat tire on a heavy traffic, it had to be this day. You exhale heavily to clear the irritation getting under your skin. 

“How long before you’re here?”

“I think about an hour, Ms.”

You aren’t the type to get mad at hired help, but you’re really in a pinch. In an hour, you should be in hair and make up already, not arriving only then. Mitsuki gets enraged when someone’s 15 minutes late. To be late an hour, you can’t imagine how she’d be. There’s no way you’re going to wait here for an hour.

“Don’t come anymore. Just get it fixed.” You say coldly before you end the call. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. You wouldn’t bother getting a driver if your car hadn’t been acting up recently. Being dumb this morning, you forgot about your busted car and was late in this morning’s meeting with a client. You found yourself brisk walking in heels at the hotel’s lobby earlier just to save yourself from any more delayed minutes. And now, even your driver’s car is jacked up. 

“Y.n?”

You turn around at the recognizable calm voice you heard. It’s Kenma, except he wasn’t alone. Kuroo is right there beside him. It was kind of weird to see them together at this place and both in business wear. 

“What’re you two doing here?” 

“I’m working with Kenma here to sponsor our next promotional video.”

You just stared at the two of them. You’re used to the three of you just fooling around when you’re together. Meeting like this when you’re all in the middle of doing your jobs is something new to you. 

“And who might you be giving a hard time on the phone, hmm y.n.?”

They heard that? They must both be near while you were getting bummed out from being late this morning and potentially late this afternoon. 

“Ah! I need to go. My driver can’t make it. I’m going to be late,” you spiral back to your hectic schedule. “Bye.” You give them a quick wave, and despite your heels, you walk as fast as you could towards the entrance of the hotel. 

You try to hail cabs that were passing by, but almost every cab was occupied. And for some reason, someone always managed to get the empty cabs before you can even spot them. To worsen your luck, it began to rain. You frantically tap your left foot on the concrete as the panic sets in you.

Mitsuki’s gonna kill me.

You bite your lip and contemplate how you’re going to arrive in the venue on time. The answer you found made you turn back on your heels to go back inside the hotel, only to find them already there behind you. 

“You’re here,” you exhale, relieved that they haven’t gone anywhere out of your sight. “I’m in a bind. Can anyone give me a ride?” 

The two men exchanged pithy looks, but you don’t bother figuring out what that could’ve meant. You just need the help you typically won’t ask for since you’re always doing things on your own.

“I can’t. I have a stream coming up. Sorry, y.n.” Kenma first spoke. You shift to Kuroo, hoping that he can give you the time of day. “Yea, sure. Am free for the rest of the day actually.” He says with a brief smile. 

“Oh, thank God!” The panic and nerves were clearing out of your system. Despite the awkwardness of your previous massage fiasco, right now, you’re glad that he can help. 

“Bye, then.” Kenma quickly took his leave as the hotel valet stepped out from his car and handed him his keys. 

“Should we go now?” Kuroo asked. “Aren’t we waiting for your car?” “No. I don’t want strangers handling my car.” “Then why did you go here?”

Amusement shows on his face at your question. “I saw your cute attempt to hail a cab. Is that how rich kids do it? Let someone else steal their ride for them?” You smile sweetly, disgustingly sweet, then roll your eyes before saying, “Let’s just go.”

You told him the location of the shoot. The drive was comfortable as you both share work conversations with your usual banters on the side. Being friends with Kuroo is confusing and reassuring at the same time. With the history you two shared, you need to tread the waters of your friendship carefully every once in a while. If it wasn’t the sexual tension, it was the affection you felt towards him that would sometimes seem like resurfacing. Even with all that, you can’t bear to walk away from what you presently have. You feel like you really found genuine company with him and Kenma.

“We’re here. Let me just get an umbrella.” He looks back to the back seat and stretches his right arm to reach for it. The current angle of his face emphasized his sharp jaw and the length of his neck. You were just thinking how you need to tread carefully, but easier said than done when you know exactly how your fingers have grazed that jaw, how your tongue has tasted that neck, and much more. 

“What’s taking you so long? I might as well get drenched from the rain,” you snap because you can’t stand your own indecent thoughts. 

“Found it.” He says and returns to his normal sitting position. “Why the hell are you suddenly cranky? Geez.” You feel bad for being suddenly grouchy. He was just being nice and you were being nasty for reasons you can’t tell him. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late,” you apologized.

He shrugs it off nonchalantly. “Hey. Where’s my umbrella?” You ask when you see him reaching for the door with only one umbrella in his hand. 

“We’re sharing this. I only have one.”

You purse your lips to the side and sharply avert your eyes elsewhere, your irritation resurfacing again. You feel uncomfortable with the idea of being that physically close to him. You’ve pushed the massage incident behind, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about it. 

“What is up with you? What are you so pissed about?”

“Nothing. Can we go now?”

He stares at you for a good 3 seconds before getting out and opening his umbrella. He moves to your side of the vehicle and opens the door. You get out and try to avoid any raindrops. He closes the door and presses his car keys to lock the vehicle. 

You both start to walk towards the entrance of the place. You’ve never felt more awkward in your life. You’re avoiding getting past the edge of the umbrella while also avoiding Kuroo’s body. 

“Why is your umbrella so small?” 

“The heck are you talkin about? This is the standard size.”

You don’t answer him. The umbrella isn’t small. He’s just huge and his whole body occupied almost all the space under the shade. You flinch when he suddenly grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close, so close that you can feel the firmness of his body pressed onto yours. 

You raise your gaze to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’re gonna get wet if we don’t huddle closer.” You could accept his reason, if only you didn’t catch the miniscule curl of his lips and the skittish glint in his eyes. It was so typical of him really. Maybe you should stop being so worked up all the time. 

“Fine.” Even though he was messing you, you can’t deny that it’s much more comfortable. You’re safe from the rain and his body provided heat from the coldness of the downpour.

He doesn’t do or say anything more as you both get to the doorway of the bar where the shoot will be held. He puts down the umbrella when you reach the shade of the building. Before you’re able to get away from Kuroo’s hold, the door opens. Mitsuki was holding her phone to her ear when she met your eyes. 

“I was calling you and you weren’t — oh.” Her eyes flew to the hand on your shoulder and traveled to its owner. “Well, well, y/n. You leave for a good while, then come back loaded.” You can always count on Mitsku to not hold her tongue. You gently release yourself from Kuroo’s hold to avoid looking defensive. “It’s not like that,” was your thrift reply. 

“Kuroo, this is Mitsuki, my creative director for today, sometimes my friend too. Mitsuki, this is Kuroo.” 

Both of them exchange casual greetings for meeting the first time. 

“How come you mention our relationship, but not yours?” referring to you and Kuroo. You sigh. “He’s also a friend.” You turn to Kuroo and thank him for the ride and his time. 

“Is your driver picking you up?” he asked.

You seal your eyes shut at your own stupidity. Because you were panicking and irritated, you sent your driver home. You open them again and purse your lips in a straight line. “No. I’ll just take a cab.”

“With your cab-hailing skills in this rain? Good luck with that.” he snorts. “Haha. Real funny.” From the corner of your eyes, you see Mitsuki with an entertained grin on her face, obviously enjoying the exchange between you and Kuroo. 

“Call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up then.” You want to protest but it will just drag on. You don’t want Mitsuki seeing more of the dynamics of your relationship, so you thriftly say “Okay.”

“Kuroo-san, right?” Both of you shift your attention to Mitsuki. “Actually, we need a male model because the scheduled one today is a total wimp and cancelled last minute.” She shamelessly eyed Kuroo from head to toe. So that’s why she was about to call you. The shoot was cancelled. 

When she looks at you, you mouth the word “no” to let her know that she shouldn’t do what you think she’s about to do. The reaction you got was her smiling widening before speaking to Kuroo. “Do you have an agent? Can we talk over the phone right now to discuss?”

That’s when you step forward. “Uhhh. He’s not a model. He used to be a volleyball player, hence the height and build.” You say defensively. You nudge Kuroo with your elbow so that he’ll back you up, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s just there waiting for Mitsuki’s next words. 

“An athlete, I see.” She nods approvingly. “That’s perfect! I don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s completely up to you then.”

“Errr. I don’t really know anything about modeling. Sorry.”

Your relief was short-lived when she tugs you to her direction and grips both of your shoulders. “Then your friend here can guide you. She’ll be your co-model anyways.” 

He probably figured out by now why you were so apprehensive during the conversation just now. You don’t want him as your co-model. 

His grin just confirmed your thoughts. “I’ll go for it then.” His eyes sparkling with mischief made you surrender. You already admit defeat in your head even though the shoot is just about to start. 

You both get in hair and makeup. Being a woman, you take longer to finish. The clothes the stylists are arranging on you are taking while as well.  They let you wear a very long, elegant gold dress that fits your upper body like your second skin, but the material is flowy from your waist down. When you arrive at the set, he’s already there talking with Mitsuki while waiting for you. Mitsuki notices you first. “Alright! We’re good to go.”

When Kuroo faces you, you almost don’t recognize him. His usual emo bangs were gone. They brushed his hair up cleanly. The suit he was wearing earlier was replaced by gray slacks and white long sleeve polo that has two top buttons open. You have conflicted feelings towards the hair and make up staff that did the work. They did a remarkable job with his overall style. He does look like a model like this. But also, why the hell did they make him look this damn good? The regular Kuroo was bad enough for you.

“This feels weird. I feel like I have too many things on me.” You scowl at his remark. “Too many? Wanna try being a girl?” He’s about to retort but Mitsuki claps twice which calls both of your attention.

“So our client is a liquor brand and the theme is something like wild love at the bar. What I want is you two giving the impression of having a passionate first encounter while you’re out drinking. Give me something and we’ll work it out as we go on, mkay?” 

You knew you’d be working with a male model for this brand, but you didn’t expect that they’d go with something like this. You thought it was just going to be glamour shots to showcase the drink.

But what Mitsuki said, ‘Wild love at the bar’?? That is not something you’d want to be doing with him. It reminded you of the first night you met. 

“I’m all ears on what to do, y/n” His haughty smile doesn’t help the situation one bit. You take a deep breath. This is not the time to muck around. You’re the experienced one, so you’ll be taking the lead. “Swear to me that you’ll take this seriously.” You glare at him, no trails of humor apparent. The change in his demeanor surprised you. You forgot how intimidating he can get when he’s serious. You’re so used to him being an idiot all the time that it catches you off guard. But for today, you’re glad to have it.

You explain to him how the whole shoot will go. For the first shot, you ask a staff member for a chair and tell Kuroo to sit on it. “Get the glass with the liquor and look at the camera while holding it.” He did as you told, except he has this perplexed look on his face with a noticeable discomfort from the way his lips curled in a corner. 

“On second thought, maybe this is a bad idea,” he said after trying the first time. You want to agree with him, but the shoot is already happening. You just want to get over it already since you’re already there. “Nooo. Uh-uh.” Mitsuki’s tone took a sharp turn. She wasn’t happy with what Kuroo said. “Just imagine you’re in a bar, chilling with your favorite drink and you just snagged the hottest girl in the place.” 

“Hottest girl aka me,” you comment on her instruction. That seemed to work because he changed back to his normal self and looked at you with amusement. “Just like the night we met, huh?” He said it low enough for only you to hear, but you still glanced nervously to Mitsuki if she caught any of it.  

“That’s a nice expression, Kuroo! Keep looking at her like that.” You ease up since it looks like she didn’t hear it. You put your elbow on his shoulder and tilt your hips to give your waist an S curve while angling your body towards him at the same time. You lift your chin up a bit and look at the camera with parted lips.

“Yep. Looking good dear.” Mitsuki signals the photographer to start taking the shots. You both slightly alter your angles so the pose will have variations. Sometimes you look at Kuroo, smile flirtatiously at him, or look at the camera in a sultry way. Every time you two would look at each other, you’d ‘cheat’ and look at the bridge of his nose to give the illusion that you’re actually looking at his eye. 

While looking at the shots from a separate screen, she suddenly asks the photographer to stop. You both straighten your bodies while awaiting instructions.  “It looks nice,” she said before looking at your direction. “But it’s boring. There’s nothing wild about it.”  You space out for a bit because for the first time, you don’t know how to proceed. You’re used to fashion shoots and runway. You’ve never had an ad with this theme. “Y.n, dear, can you be a bit aggressive towards him?”

You raise your eyebrow from disbelief. “A-aggressive?”

Mitsuki nods. “Throw yourself at him, dominate him, take control. mkay?” You feel a bit pressured when she’s just looking at you two and waiting for you to start posing for the camera. You don’t have a solid idea in your head, but you just go for it. You try to prop yourself up on the bar counter, but your dress won’t allow you.

Kuroo notices your dilemma and gets up from his seat. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.” He positions himself in front of you and grabs your waist. His hands were strong yet gentle. With your palms still on the surface of the counter, he lifts you up while you put weight on your arms so you can usher yourself properly. You’ve been deliberately avoiding his gaze, but right now, your eyes are glued to his face. 

“Yes. Like that.” You both flick your gaze towards Mitsuki. “Do that.” She instructs the photographer to move the side so the angle of the shot captures you both without him blocking you completely. You realize the position you two have. “I agreed to this to make you uncomfortable, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m the one extremely uncomfortable right now.” Kuroo whispers with a hint of regret on his face. The camera flashes start going off but something clicked between the two of you that you two end up laughing. It’s probably the awkwardness and the nerves that’s been hanging on the air that something so shallow as Kuroo admitting his uneasiness, cracked you both up.

It was just a brief exchange of laughter but you feel relaxed. Even though Mistuki is pretty cool for a creative director, she’s still as serious as any professional. So when you see her smiling as you apologized for the delay, you’re a bit shocked.

“No worries dear. Let’s continue then.”

You feel more confident now. You’re you. The reason you became successful on an international level is because of your professionalism and ability to produce quality results.

From being seated on the counter, you’re a few centimeters taller than Kuroo. That completed the idea in your head. You took the glass drink and placed it on your right hand. “Put your hands on my hips,” you tell him then lightly lift his chin with your index finger, “and look at me like you worship me.” The command earned a raised eyebrow from him but you pay no heed to it.

You extend an arm over his right shoulder, the glass dangling on your fingertips. With your index finger on his chin, you look to the camera with provocative eyes. If anything looks wrong with Kuroo, you’ll just let Mitsuki handle it. After all, she’s the one who asked him to be a part of this. 

“Oh yea! That’s really good.” Compared to before, she looks pleased with the shots now. The pose was captured a few times before she speaks again. “Instead of using your finger, grab his hair to tilt his head back.” You comply immediately and tugs his locks downwards. You might’ve done it a bit rougher than you wanted because you heard a raspy grunt from his throat. You got distracted, so instead of looking at the camera, you look at him. 

You regret it. When you said he should look at you with worship, you didn’t think he’d do it this well. Because his hair is pushed completely all the way back, you see every aspect of his face. Nothing was blocking his eyes that were full of yearning and desire. He’s looking at you like you’re not just the hottest girl in the bar, but the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes one. 

“Pull him closer and look here y.n.” You do as you’re told, thankful that you needed to look somewhere else. “Damn. You two look so good right now.” She gently claps her hands while looking at the monitor.

“I’m already satisfied, but let’s just do one more for another option. Umm, Kuroo. You be the aggressor this time. Y/n, …. you know what to do.” She winks after.

Well, not really you don’t. She just wants you to do the thinking on what to do. You put the glass down and put both your hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?” You ask with an easygoing smile. You don’t want to ruin the momentum of the shoot, so you decide to be nice to him for now. 

 “You got it,” then his hand travels up your waist and guides you down back to the floor. You tell him to lean on the counter. He follows with no complaints. You get his arm and ushers him to wrap it on your waist. When he goes along with your silent instruction, you raise your leg to his side.   

“Tug my skirt up to my thighs.”

He doesn’t react and just squints at you.. “Huh?” Since he did not grasp what you meant, you take it to yourself to do it and slowly gather the material at the ends. Then, you yank it up to your thigh. “Get it?” He whistles as he gets the cloth from your hands. “Hey. Don’t do that. If you’re a real model, you’d be in trouble if I report that behavior.”

“But I’m not a real model, am I?” You glare at his provocation. You won’t be having any of his crap at your workplace. “Kuroo,” you say with a menacing glare and he immediately gets the threat behind it. “My bad, my bad. I’ll behave again, kay? Stop scowling now.” You relax your face and take a deep breath. “Moving on then.” You enclose your left arm on his neck while you plant your right on his chest. You don’t want to direct him any further than this. If this is unsatisfactory, Mitsuki will say something. 

Aaaand she does. “Kuroo-san. Aggressive please. Own her. You don’t want her to get away from you.” Upon hearing Mitsuki’s additional instructions, everything about him intensifies three folds. He pulls you even closer, causing your breath to hitch when his face is dangerously near yours all of a sudden. His sleeves don’t do anything to mask the firmness of his arms. And even with the velvet fabric, you can still the strength of his thighs as they’re pinned on yours. The heat of his hand ignited the skin of your thigh as he clutched the fabric and your flesh forcefully. And his eyes, they no longer worship you. They spoke of something similar, but not quite. 

He wants to devour you whole. 

It was too overwhelming for you, so you look away and close your eyes dramatically to make it seem like you’re being swept away in the moment. After one camera flash, “Okay dear, but I need you to look at him this time.”

The few seconds of breaking away from his fiery stare did you some good. You were able to collect yourself again, but not enough to truly look at him. You just focus your gaze right between his eyes as you did earlier.  

“Nooo. When I said look at him, I meant really look at him. Respond with your own passion. You’re looking a bit of a scared vegetable right now, honey.” You’ve never had feedback like that in forever. Maybe when you tried modeling the first few months, you received something similar to that. But never when you started doing it full time. 

You don’t want to, but you have to. You finally meet his gaze and tap into something inside yourself that you’ve been holding back. You let your desire for him deluge you, let it surge through your veins until you’re aching for him. You push yourself even closer to him, not allowing even air to pass between your bodies. 

“Yes! YES! You want him so much, but you shouldn’t.” 

It was just as she said. You want him so much, so much that it almost hurts. You part your lips slightly as you get lost in the moment.

“Oh my God.” Her words sounded distant. It was there. You can hear it, but what clouded your senses was your heart pounding hard against your chest, his hot breath mingling with yours, and the way his eyes are now devoted to your lips. Not long after, he angles his face so that your lips are almost touching. Just a tiptoe and a kiss will already take place. You clench your fingers on his shirt, holding yourself back from that one tiny push that will allow you to feel his lips on yours again. 

“Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT! That was it. That was the money shot.” Mitsuki’s shrill voice which was followed by her squeal broke the trance you were in. You know what she meant. The shoot is done. Yet, you still feel hot. The heated atmosphere around you two still hasn’t caved in. He let go of your thigh as you put some space away from him. You settle your hands on his shoulders while you rest your forehead on his chest. He doesn’t move either. His hand remains on your waist, but without the force this time. With his other hand, he caringly skims the curve of your shoulder. 

“You okay, kitten?”

His voice is so gentle, you nearly convince yourself that it sounded loving. You nod weakly before heading back to the dressing room without saying anything. 

Kuroo’s gaze followed your back as you disappeared. He was amazed but also bothered at what just happened. You looked really into it, like you really wanted him. If the shoot didn’t finish any sooner, he might have closed that tiny gap that separated your lips from his. He’s been aching for you for so long that his control is slipping inch by inch every time there’s an opportunity to cross that line of friendship you set. When he saw you let go and completely relent within his hold, it was maddening at how he couldn’t have you at the moment. What’s worse is that even without the glamorous set, he knows you’re still not his to have. 

He walks towards the room where his clothes were hung and changes back to his usual suit. He asked the make up staff to remove everything on his face. He doesn’t like the feeling of having a layer of cosmetics on his skin. The hair they couldn’t do anything about because they used a lot of product to fix it up. 

When he gets out of the room, Mitsuki approaches him with a satisfied look on her face

“You did so well for someone with no experience at all. Do you have a card? I can hook you up for other gigs. You’ll do great.”

He smiles graciously at her generous offer, but he doesn’t want it. “Sorry, but I’m not really interested. I only did it cause it was her.” He said truthfully. Mitsuki’s mouth curled in amusement. “You know, y.n’s really good to work with. She always had this cool facade that never went down, and it works for her. We love her for it. But today,” she pauses as she gives him a meaningful look. “I’ve never seen her show such vulnerability and rawness. It was,” she sighs with admiration for you.

“Beautiful, wasn’t it?” He knows exactly what she’s saying. After all, he has seen several times how captivating your authenticity can be. 

“Soo, are you two dating or what?” Her eyebrows twitch up and down from anticipation at what he’s about to answer. He badly wants to say yes, but he doesn’t have that luxury. “Naaah. Like she said, I’m just a friend.”

She’s obviously dissatisfied with his response. He is too, but that’s the lousy truth. Out of the blue, she takes her phone out. “Too bad though. You two looked really good here.” She showed him the photo and it was you and him earlier. You were seated in the counter with your arms on his shoulders and his hands on your waist. It was when you were both laughing at his stupid statement.

“Can you send me that photo?”

“Why should I?”

He’s well aware of what she’s trying to do. It’s a business transaction, except for the lack of formality. She wants to get something in return, and he knows exactly what it is. 

“You’re good.” He admits with an impressed glint in his eyes.

“I am. So what’ll it be?” He knows that she knows she has the upperhand of the negotiation. She could probably tell that there’s something going on with the two of you. It’s just a matter of deciding which information to give her. But he didn’t have the fortune of having too many options. He didn’t want to reveal the nature of your relationship before. He wasn’t sure of your feelings for him. He can only speak for himself. 

“Fine. I sorta like her.” 

Her eyes brighten up. “Aha! I knew it. You should totally ask her out, kay? You’re gonna have tall and beautiful babies.” She put one hand on her cheek and closed her eyes while screeching at her own daydream of you and him getting together. When she calms down, she sends you the image file. “For real though. I’ve never seen her like that,” she points to your dazzling face in laughter in the photo. 

“Hey. What’re you two talking about?” You’re back to your normal clothes, but your hair and makeup was still there. 

“Nothing. Let’s go now?” He spoke immediately before your nosy director could say something. He walks to your direction before heading out together. “Bye! Update me, Kuroo-san!” Mitsuki said as she waved goodbye. You couldn’t help but be curious on what he should update her about. 

The rain stopped so no more umbrella horseplay. When you both get inside his car, you immediately ask him, “What was that about?”

“Uhh. She asked if I wanted to do other modeling projects.”

“Do you?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering, “No. That sort of stuff is not for me. I only did it to piss you off.” He starts the engine, then pivots his body to face you. “I must say though. I enjoyed seeing you eyefuck me.” Just when you are getting used to the peaceful, non-smug Kuroo, his true personality kicks right back in. Good thing you took your time getting changed and basically just calmed yourself down. 

“Glad you did. That’s the most you can get from me after all.”

His smile turned upside down at your remark. “Tch.” Your lips tug upwards at the side from his lack of retaliation. 

“I haven’t told you yet, but it wasn’t my first modeling experience.” 

You’re a bit surprised. Even though he has the appearance of a model, you didn’t think he’d do it. You agree with what he said just a while ago. It wasn’t for him. He’s best at his job right now. 

He gets his phone and scrolls up. He must be looking for a photo to show you as proof. When you see his screen, your heart swells. It was you and him a year ago. The neckline of your shirt was pulled to your shoulder for a makeshift off-shoulder while he knotted his t-shirt to form a crop top. You two wore large smiles while posing silly in front of the cam. It was right after when you told him that you’re a model.

“I- you... umm. You kept these?” You swipe the screen and see every single photo you took that day. Not one was deleted. You remember the laughter and absurd joy behind each frame. 

“Yea. Why wouldn’t I?”

One more swipe and there’s no other photo after yours. That’s when you notice that the photos are in the Favorites album. You felt like you were about to tear up. You’ve never felt so cherished in your whole life. Even though you left without saying a proper goodbye and no indication of going back, he still kept them. You tried so hard to forget about him, yet there he was, keeping these small tokens of what you had - proof that you really had been a part of his life.You felt something inside you crumble piece by piece. You should be scared, but at the moment, you don’t feel any fear. Instead, you were enraptured. 

You can feel your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin is. You don’t bother hiding it from him. 

“Can you send these to me?” You turn to him with the smile still plastered on your face, but he frowns at your question. 

“Those photos came from you.” 

You look back at his phone, your big smile reduced into a faint one that’s traced with melancholy. “I deleted them when I went to the US.” If he asks why, you wouldn’t know how to answer. Fortunately, he doesn’t. He gets his phone back from your hand and fiddles with it a bit. A few seconds later, you hear a notification from your own phone. When you open it, all the photos are sent to you. 

He looks at you warmly, his face devoid of anything but heartfelt fondness. “There. Like you never got rid of them.”

---

You lie on your bed with bottomless thoughts that night. Kuroo’s words weighed more than they should in your head as you stare at the photos. 

You deleted them to completely erase any trace of his existence in your life. Now they’re back in your phone with not a single photo missing from the stack. Ironically, it’s also you who asked for them back. Yet, you don’t mind. You came to accept that those memories existed. They happened. There’s no use trying to forget they did when he’s already back in your life anyways.

Looking at you and Kuroo in the images, you can’t avoid thinking how simple those times were. You were just two cool people who had sex for fun. You had no clue things would happen as they did - falling for him, leaving, and for some reason - destiny or whatever, meeting him again. The past you tried to leave behind crept up to you and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

You thought you’ve moved on. You’ve thoroughly convinced yourself that you’ve disposed of all unnecessary emotions that involved Kuroo. You thought that whatever it is that you felt when you met him again was just remnants of yesterday. You were so wrong. That‘s just what you tried to tell yourself, repeating the idea over and over in your head until you believed it. 

But it never really happened. You haven’t forgotten about him. When you went on dates in the U.S., you’d remember him. So you stopped trying to see anyone and attributed that to being scared of getting hurt again. Hence, you shut yourself out to anyone until you no longer found dating to be interesting. You told yourself getting in a relationship would just get in the way of your career. 

That wasn’t true. 

The truth is just as he said. Your feelings for him are still there, you never did get rid of them. The question now is how to proceed from here.

You jerk when your phone rings right at your hand. 

‘Kuroo’

You don’t want to answer it. You basically just admitted to yourself that you’re still in love with him. Hearing his voice right now would be dangerous for your fragile heart.

But it might be something important. He doesn’t usually call.

You press the answer button. You were about to say hello, but your heart was beating so fast that you were unable to get any word out.

“Hello?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat so you could speak. “Yeah?”

“Is something wrong? You sound a bit off?” How he could tell even through a phone call is unbelievable. “Everything’s fine. Why’d you call anyways?” You do your best to sound normal. “Block your Thursday next week. I’m throwing a party.”

“What for?”

“Mmm. Just felt like having one.”

You minimize the call to check your calendar if you had any plans that day. “Alright. I have an event in the morning, but that night’s free.”

“Nice!!” He sounded a bit too glad. 

“Is that why you called?” It’s a bit suspicious that he rang you just for that. It’s just a party. He could’ve texted you instead. 

“Why? Am I not allowed to call when I want to?” Your heart skips a beat from the playful tone in his voice. You picture him smirking on his phone while he’s lying in bed. You bite your lip at the image in your head. 

Screw you and your stupid imagination. 

“Good night, Kuroo.” You said dismissively. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything else important anyways. He chuckles from the other line before speaking so ever softly with tenderness that gives you butterflies in your stomach.

“Good night, kitten.” 

It was just a simple good night but you were reeling. You fight the smile that was forcing itself to form on your lips. You look at your photos one more time and sigh. 

You are so in love with him. 

On the other end, Kuroo is all smiles to himself. Nothing beats hearing your voice after a long day. Once again, he stares at the photo Mitsuki gave him that afternoon. He wishes it was real. He wishes you were smiling for him, laughing with him, and happy with him. If only you gave any indication that you like him more than a friend, he would’ve made his move. 

Even though he knows you still desire him, he wouldn’t settle for just sex. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. He wants something further than that and more importantly, you deserve better than that. But so far, he could tell you were enjoying the friendship and companionship only. Even if he wanted to take things forward, he’s not sure that that’s what you want. You haven’t given anything away for him to make his move. He doesn’t want to risk it and have you running for the hills. 

Will he ever make you fall for him? Should he just leave things as is or do something bolder for you to realize that to him, you’re not just a friend?

He sighs. 

He’s so in love with you.

Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list

taglist: @lia-faerie-queen​ @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @babythotshq​ @arendizzle​

[bangtansmau]

midnight memories

pairing: kim taehyung x you

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summary: you moved in to a new apartment because you couldn't live another day with a noisy neighbor. to your luck, your balcony faced another apartment's balcony from the building next door and he also is infamous for making sounds. however, you can't seem to care when the noise is actually from a nice violin and the player himself is also nice-looking.

-----------------

track 2: story of my life + written part

to make your friends believe you were, indeed, sleeping, you shut off your phone and placed it down because they somehow always knew when you would be online. your eyes wandered around your tiny bedroom before deciding to make some breakfast and something to drink so you could energize to finish your paper. the trek from your room to the kitchen was short as it was just right across the hall since the 1-bedroom apartment was compacted to the smallest size possible.

it would make sense why rent was so cheap.

during your walk, you noticed out of your balcony’s french door’s windows that your neighbor- er, was it tae? taehyung? taeyong? -was leaning against the railing but this time, no violin. his eyebrows were scrunched together as if deeply in-thought and there was a frown resting on his lips that usually held an adorable grin. something must be happening. at first you wanted to just go over there and talk to him but you decided to just make your food and tea then go over to talk over breakfast.

taehyung noticed you walking towards your doors with a plate of cookies and a teacup in-hand. his eyes naturally followed you and his mood brightened up slightly, seeing his new friend make her way for him to talk to her and be distracted from the stress of his life. you were juggling a newspaper under your arm while your two hands carried your breakfast but you somehow made it, even being able to twist the doorknob to open towards the balcony.

tae’s smile made you instantly look at him and you quickly put down your things to walk to the railing so you could talk to him.

“hey”

he greeted and you tilted your head with a smile.

“hey, yourself”

you both shared a split-second of silence but it was comfortable enough to break into chuckles after. you settled on one of the chairs of your little table and once you were comfortable enough, you finally asked the question.

“what’s wrong, tae?”

you asked and he flinched, recalling showing you any face of stress in the 3 seconds you were out.

“huh?”

“i noticed from inside that you looked stressed. is it school?”

your question was answered with no words but with how he sighed and closed his eyes.

“setting aside how you guessed right, yea, school’s just kicking my ass right now”

you nodded in understanding.

“is there,, anything i can help you with? you mentioned being in photography but i’m not exactly great at,,, well,,,, taking photos”

sheepishly smiling, you ducked your head but tae felt warm that you even wanted to help him.

“it’s a project my professor assigned. i guess you could say it’s our end of the semester project. i have the equipment but,,, i just don’t have a theme”

a theme?

well, you couldn’t exactly come up with anything either without sounding too cheesy or corny.

“i would’ve said something about nature but that’s too basic, right?”

tae’s eyes lit up and he gasped out loud.

“exactly! my friends thought i was crazy for not wanting to do that! they just don’t get it”

he huffed and you laughed.

“as students of the arts, we have to make ourselves known somehow”

god, tae wanted to just drag you off and meet jungkook because he felt like his argument was finally valid.

“what if you make your project,, based on memories? taking pictures of everyday life and see the lens out of someone else’s eye”

your suggestion wasn’t the most original one but tae thought hard.

“hmm, that sounds good. maybe the life of a college student? or,,, something joyous to contrast the dark and stress of our lives? i don’t know, i’m not good at suggestions”

at this point, he was kind of desperate for any suggestions that sounded better than basic so he nodded slowly then began thinking about who and what would be in the pictures.

“i thought of using my dog as my model but he’s at my parents’ house and he’s not very cooperative. maybe my friends but they would charge me somehow”

you felt bad for him because you’ve been at a place where you’ve had a blockage in your project. to think this was the most important and highest graded one of his course was definitely more nerve-wracking than your simple ‘What are the symbolisms in Gatsby?’ back in middle school.

then you thought of an idea.

“well,,, i may not be an experienced model but i can be a stand-in? my friend uses me in his cooking videos a lot so i’m not too shy of a camera”

tae stared at you.

“are you sure? you would do that?”

you shrugged and sipped your tea.

“i mean, why not? it’s not too hard, right?”

his grin spread across his face and he excitedly leaned over the railing.

“seriously?! what can i do in return?”

“i don’t have anything right now but i’ll tell you when we’re done, okay?”

he couldn’t believe you were willing to help a stranger like him but his fondness of you even grew.

“wow, what luck! you’re really the best, y/n!”

you nodded smugly.

“i know”

tae scrambled to find his camera which he spotted inside so he rushed to get it while you watched, amused. the padding of his socks announced his arrival and his camera was held delicately in his hands.

“can i,, take one right now?”

you blanched.

“right now?”

he quickly noticed your surprise so he hurriedly waved his hands.

“it’s fine if you don’t want to!”

the excitement in his eyes was too adorable for you to pass up so you chuckled before picking up the newspaper to open it and partially hide your face.

“here. i don’t have any makeup on so try not to get my face but everything else is fine”

tae nodded. a smirk made its way up to your lips and you leaned.

“how do you want me, director?”

the tips of his ears began to burn at the way you looked up at him but he coughed before he shrugged.

“i-uh,, well, however you’re comfortable”

you noticed his nervousness and nodded. you angled yourself in a way that it looked like you were reading the newspaper with one hand which was folded and raised high enough that the only thing peaking from your face was your large spectacles and eyes. the other hand held the tea high and the way you posed looked natural enough for him to take that snapshot.

you continued reading and stopped when he pulled the camera away from his face to review the way the picture came out. of course, you were curious as to how it turned out so you placed your things down and called out to him.

“hm?”

his eyes were wide and you laughed.

“did it turn out good?”

you asked and taehyung eagerly agreed.

“i mean, i need to pull it up in my laptop but this is perfect. when i finish, you want me to send it to you?”

tae was hoping that his excuse sounded convincing enough to get your number but you quickly caught it before nodding and getting up to get a pen.

he watched you return and give him a notepad that held your digits and a small smiley face that he couldn’t help but mirror.

today was a good day.

not only did he finally figure out his project, he also got the cute girl’s number too.

----------------

fun fact:

- jin has a cooking/eating channel called ‘EATJIN’ where he mainly makes cooking videos and eating but sometimes he has daily vlogs where you and the boys show up all the time

- tae’s previous muse was someone from his hometown but something happened o.o

- jungkook is looking for an apartment but he doesn’t want to live with jimin since his cat loves to take socks and underwear and he doesn’t want to repeat the same experience from back then where he accidentally wore jimin’s briefs

-----------------

//masterlist//

← track 1 // track 3 →

[greatbigbellies]

Born Too Large

This was meant to be kinky, but spiraled out of proportion as I wrote, and the belly only comes in at the end. But I wanted a wholesome relationship so…

Ever since birth, she was an outcast, a freak, a giant. At 10 years old, she was already taller and stronger than all the men in the village, including her father, who bitterly blamed her for her mother’s death in childbirth. None of the other kids wanted to play with her; she was an unfair advantage in team games, and even when she proposed that they all take her on, no one was brave enough. So it was that she resigned herself to duty and chores, routinely doing the work of three men, which only made them more jealous and resentful, until one day a royal knight was passing through and beheld the young giantess, and impressed with her size and strength, offered to take her away from this humdrum backwater and put her gifts to use in the king’s army. With no lost love, she left her home behind and joined the knight’s entourage.

She became his squire, and in time she was taught the ways of war. Fully grown, she stood at eye level with a man on horseback. She needed custom made armor, and her sword was too heavy for anyone else to lift, let alone swing. It needed no edge; the sheer weight of it was enough to crush a man’s breastplate. Her strength became a thing of legend; impossible to miss on the battlefield, the mere sight of her set soldiers on the run, which she was fine with–she never much liked killing; it felt too much like bullying. And although her reputation grew, she still heard the hateful words behind her back, the subtle ridicule and quiet envy, of how she stole all the glory. At this point, her heart is hardened and the words don’t hurt her much anymore, but she’s still no happier, in spite of the accolades and glories she’s won in the king’s service. But it’s not all bad. Her closest friend among the knights is eternally grateful, after she saved his life on the battlefield by lifting the horse that had fallen on him, even when the doctors pronounced he would never walk again. And sometimes, she blushes when the maidens compliment her.

This continues until an enemy kingdom, fearful of her strength, sought to remove her from the picture. She’s lured into a trap in a remote corner of the kingdom, and as she passed over a bridge over a ravine, the bridge supports were destroyed, and she fell a great height, bouncing on the rocks and plunging into the river below. She should have died, but her armor protected her, and she drifted downriver, unconscious.

When she next awoke, she found herself in a cramped bed, dressed in bandages, aching all over. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe. Then a small man (every man was small) appeared in the doorway, and nearly dropped the bowl of soup he was coming to give her. She was awake at last! He explained that he was a fisherman, and that found her washed ashore on the banks; and after getting some help, they carried her to safety, peeled away the armor, and addressed her wounds. It was up in the air whether she’d make it or not; after all, she’d been asleep for a week. She stresses that she must return to the king’s service, but she wasn’t in the shape to go anywhere. The fisherman gently pushes her back down, and for the first time she can remember, she’s not strong enough to resist. She needed to rest and heal, he insisted, or else all their hard work to try and save her would be for naught. A little guilty now, she lays back down, and accepts the spoonful of soup when he puts it against her lips.

Recovery is slow. Aside from her wounds, she needs to go through physical therapy to recover her strength. For so long, she’s been the strongest person in the room, yet now her legs wobble like a newborn colt’s, unable to support her own weight without leaning on the fisherman and his friends, who offer their support unconditionally. It becomes clear to her that they aren’t aware of her reputation; the village is more isolated than most. In her towns and villages, she was recognized (for better and worse). But here, she’s just… a person. A person in need, no less. There’s no judgment, no expectations. In spite of her bruised and broken ribs, she feels she can finally *breathe*.

She starts to adjust to life in the village, helping where she can as part of her rehabilitation, still not at her peak strength. She’s on a more even playing field with the other villagers, yet they value her all the same. In the morning, she often finds gifts at the door, and she treasures these more than any bounty she won in the king’s army. Her previous life seems so distant now, so unimportant. She feels loved; a strange and unfamiliar feeling. And overtime, she realizes her own feelings for the fisherman, who’s been at her side since the beginning. He’s nice and sweet and funny. While she was still on bedrest, he would tell her the most awful jokes, and she would laugh so hard it’d hurt her ribs. She had seen many attractive men in her time as a knight, beautiful and unblemished from a life of privilege or hard-cut and well-muscled from battle. Yet none of them compared to this little man with bushy eyebrows, a wiry beard, and a little gap between his front teeth. Yet his smile outdid the sun, and put a funny warmth in her chest. And eventually, she works up the courage to confess her feelings for him, afraid that he would reject her; she was just so big, and clumsy, and she ate so much, and she wasn’t particularly pretty from first a childhood of farmwork then years of battle. But none of that mattered, because he liked her too. And soon enough, they shared a bed for the night, then every night after. It is awkward at first, as she’s never shared a bed with anyone before or known such intimate touch, but she adjusts to this too.

But the peace does not last. For while she was recovering, the enemy kingdom had invaded, conquering town after town, and now they’ve come her. None of the villagers are warriors. But she is–even though she still aches and is out of practice. The fisherman tries to talk her out of it, they don’t have to fight, *she* doesn’t have to fight anymore, not for some distant king. She tells him, she isn’t doing this for the king, but herself and them. And when it becomes evident that he can’t dissuade her, he gets the boys together, and they work all night to equip her. Dressed in pots, pans, and similarly improvised armor, armed with a lumber axe, she meets the enemy forces at the village outskirts, and after a beat they recognize her: the she-giant wasn’t dead! Uncertainty spreads through the ranks. They had all heard the stories–of how she cleaved a man in two with but a single blow with her monstrous blade, or the time she lifted a castle portcullis with her bare hands, or when she held a bridge by herself against 50 men. They thought she was dead! But the captain bristles. He did not believe in ghosts, and if this wretched country could produce one freak, why not another–this could not be the same woman. So he challenged her to single combat, sure that she was just another country bumplin; his superior skill would prevail against her brute strength. She, in return, extracts a promise from him; that he and his men would leave the village alone if she bested him. The battle is quick and humiliating, but opposite of how the captain expected things to go. Though out of practice and still not at her physical peak (which she might never reach again), she trounces him. Again and again she insists that he stays down, but his pride won’t allow it, until she delivers a blow that turns out to be fatal. The enemy force is aghast; their fears were true. The second in command, now newly promoted, honors the bargain and hurriedly withdraws their forces. That night, she breaks down and sobs in the fisherman’s arms; she didn’t miss killing.

Later, the king manages to turn back the invading army, and following the rumors finds her again. He demands why she hadn’t returned to his service; her disappearance is what emboldened the enemy to finally invade. But he’s willing to forgive her transgression, in light of her outstanding service, provided she returned–but before he can finish, she pulls him from his horse like she’s scolding a child. She’s done with killing, she tells him, she’s done with people using her. She wants to be left in peace, and invokes her outstanding service to lay claim to the land that the village stands on. No taxes, no demanding kids march off to fight strangers’ battles. In exchange, on her promise as a knight, she would never raise a blade again, for him or against him. And soberly aware that she could crush his head between her hands like an overripe melon, he comes to the decision that her demands are totally reasonable, this village wasn’t *that* important anyway, and he actually fulfills his end of the bargain. The king leaves the village in peace and that’s the last of him that she ever sees.

Things settle down again, and there’s no more attacks, no more tax collectors, no more recruiters. For her, it’s a return to form, a distantly familiar life, except this time she is loved. She is accepted. And eventually, she and the fisherman, now her husband, decide to have kids. It’s scary for her. What if they end up like her? What if they’re too small? What if she accidentally hurts them? Forgetting that she’s handled babies before, and helped others through childbirth. But her husband assures her, it’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. She’s the kindest, strongest, gentlest soul he knows; and he’ll be there every step of the way. And a few months later, when the two of them decide to leave the village to go visit her old friend from the knights, her belly is the size of another woman’s at 3 weeks overdue, but for her it’s only the first trimester. Her old friend, seeing her next to her tiny husband, jokingly asks if he needed a ladder to do the deed, but it’s in good fun and they all laugh. She is happy, and eagerly awaits the birth of her children, however many there are, however big or small they turn out to be.

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant Pt. 5

Hello all you new people. I hope you’re here for the filth, because that’s all I bring to the table these days. Enjoy the surprise! Diavolo. Tag list at the end

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: Here Part 6: here Part 7: here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader   Lucifer x Diavolo x Reader Wordcount: 5,500 ish Genre: Endless fuck buffet   Tags: Multiple Orgasms, Toys, vibrating panties, orgasm control, rope bondage, Threesome, Spitroasting, Summary: Yearly inspections are the worst. Especially when there are last minute ones scheduled for after work hours.

Inspection 

Things felt tense after Lucifer revealed his true form to you. At first, you had wanted to pretend it was all a dream; that you had somehow imagined the whole exchange. However, the soreness you felt between your legs that lasted days told you otherwise. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel his seed spilling from your abused cunt when he finally pulled out that fateful night. It was no dream, the bite marks and welts all across your skin told you as such. 

Returning to the office after spending the weekend recovering, he acted as if nothing special happened between the two of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything more from him; but it still stung a bit. Lucifer had been so sweet and tender that night; you had started to believe that he might have seen your relationship with him as more than a ‘professional’ one. It was foolish of you to expect change from him. 

Change would be implemented at his pace. He would always be in control of that. 

There was no time for your mind to dwell on your bruised emotions. As soon as something settled in one department, another department would report something broke and would need your attention. Time at the office settled back into its usual ebb and flow of business and before long, months had passed. The initial bitterness you felt from his indifference faded. You were back to your usual self, ready to please him however he wanted you. Even if he hadn’t shown his true form to you again since that night, you were always ready to take it if he felt the urge to do so. 

Once the rush to ensure supplies for the back to school ‘season’ was over; you thought you’d have a moment to breathe. You thought there would be a lull in work until the holidays. Even if sales were dipping; it didn’t mean that things in the office would calm down at all. Yearly building inspections were coming up and you would have your hands full from overseeing them. 

You were used to two, maybe three, guests coming into the office in a day. Usually, they were all department heads or representatives of other companies Lucifer had acquired. Having multiple strangers coming in several times throughout the week to poke and prod at every corner of the office had you stressed to say the least. You worried they would find things that they shouldn’t. The most scandalous items were kept in locked drawers; but you still couldn’t help feeling a little apprehensive about nosy people you didn’t know. 

Leave it to Lucifer to want a change during this time as well. 

“Put it in before they get here.” he said first thing in the morning one day. You hadn’t even unlocked your drawer full of the usual toys when he approached you. He pressed a small vibrator into your hand,  leaned in and whispered into your ear. “You’ve only got a few minutes before the inspectors get here. Did you need help, or can you manage?” 

You swallowed hard, your mind frantically processed what you needed to do. You were wet enough to take it, that wasn’t the problem. It was the issue of whether or not you could keep your composure while strangers were in the same space as you and Lucifer. When you glanced over at him and saw the self-satisfied smirk on his face, you knew you couldn’t deny him; nor could you disappoint him. “I can manage.” You said, quickly wrapping your fingers around the small toy. 

It was such a tiny thing compared to what you were used to that putting into place was practically trivial. Bending over where you stood, you spread your legs and pushed your panties to the side, showing off just how wet you were. You could hear Lucifer hum in approval as the little toy slipped right between your lips and nestled itself against your clit. You straightened back up smiling sweetly, just seconds before the door opened at the building inspectors came in. “Ah, we have guests. I’ll show them around.” 

“Please do. I’ll be at my desk.” 

You approached the men at the door. They were already looking around at the decor and the light fixtures before you even introduced yourself. “Welcome, gentlemen.” you greeted smoothly, gesturing to the first corner they would look at. “This way to the waiting area.” 

They followed you, quickly writing down notes as you explained all the safety features set up in the room along with answering any questions they had about adding features to the office. “Oh, well, we have considered a large screen television on one of the walls for video conferences. But, at this point, we are focusing on uh….” You stopped mid-sentence when the toy in your panties jumped into life. 

“Uhm?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Sorry, I forgot where our priorities were for a moment.” You said, feeling heated about the scandal that was happening right in front of them. You smiled weakly before continuing. “Our priority is to expand our customer service department. Most of our resources will be funneled to there to ensure that they have the supplies they need before we make any other changes to this room. We don’t expect any remodeling plans here until at least next year.” 

“Ah. Well. make sure you put in a request for a permit if you plan on drilling into any of the walls.” The inspector said, before whispering something to his partner who was taking notes about everything in the room. “Where would you plan on placing it if you were to remodel?” “Ah, right this way.” You could feel Lucifer’s eyes on you as you walked across the massive office. The toy no longer buzzed against your clit, laying dormant until the next moment he wanted to see you remain calm under pressure. “We have a rather empty corner here, it would probably go right along--” you paused, blinking rapidly and focusing on the task at hand and not on the sudden onslaught of sensations your clit was feeling. “Right here.” You said, gesturing at the wall currently only decorated with a rather generic looking painting. 

They walked over, tapping on the wall, checking the hidden supports and mumbling amongst each other as they continued to take down notes. You breathed slowly through your nose, hoping to not bring attention to how much your knees were shaking from Lucifer’s long distance teasing. Just a quick glance back at his desk, you saw him looking over papers and working on his computer as if no one else was in the room. Sometimes, his eternally composed demeanor could be so frustrating. Frustratingly sexy, that is. 

Your whole body was tense, conflicted on what it should be concentrating on. Your hormones screamed to be unleashed so that your body could fully enjoy every little bit of pleasure it was feeling. Your brain struggled with your instincts, tamping down on your needs in a futile struggle for control. As if they could sense you were nervous, the men looked at your trembling form, trying to reassure you that so far everything was currently under regulation standards. 

“We’d like to do another once over of the room, just to make sure that we got all our bases covered. Will that be alright?” 

“Yes, of course.” Your smile felt so strained and when you thought you could collapse in defeat, the sensation stopped all together. You could have heaved a deep breath of relief, but that would have given you away. Instead, you went back to deep breaths in and out through your nose while the inspectors took their sweet time to really go through everything in the office. 

They took hours, knocking on walls, poking at light fixtures, tugging on outlets and discussing amongst themselves if things were in compliance. So far, nothing truly caught their eyes until they stopped to look at the ceiling a few paces away from Lucifer’s desk. 

“What are these hooks up here for?” One man asked, pointing upwards and fumbled over your words, unable to come up with an answer. Had they always been there? Then again, you never had the need to actually scrutinize the ceiling fixtures to take notice of them. 

“Ah… Uh…” 

“Hanging plants.” Lucifer said from his desk. He had his hand in his pocket, no doubt fidgeting with the controller to the toy pressed up against your folds. “I often get gifted one or two every year from friends or family for my birthday. Unfortunately, I don’t have a green thumb, so they don’t last long in here; but it would be rude of me to not try and take care of the gifts they give me.” 

The men chuckled good naturedly, understanding the predicament that he went through. “It’s bolted in, yeah? Some of those things can get pretty heavy.” 

“Oh of course.” He continued the discussion all the while casually ramping up the intensity of the vibrations of the toy in your panties. “I had someone come in and install it, watched him bolt it down and then hang off of it for a few minutes to prove that it’s here to stay.” 

Everyone shared a laugh at the silly story, you included; however, it felt like whatever sounds came from your mouth were strained and forced. Everything you did was to hide a moan of pleasure or a shudder of ecstasy. 

“Well, that’s all we have for the day then. Everything checks out. Here’s the report of everything and a few notes on that TV you want installed later. I also put down how you’ll need to go about applying for a permit when you get that done.” 

“Thank you for your foresight. I’ll be sure to put that information into good use. My assistant will see you out then.” 

“Yes, right this way.” You said, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking, though you did see a flash of concern on one man’s face when you spoke. You put on your best customer service smile and started walking, keeping what felt like your whole lower body clenched to stave off the incoming orgasm. 

The walk from one end of the office to the elevators felt like a trek through an endless wasteland. There was nowhere to run and hide. You had to survive your trial through sheer force of will and for Lucifer, you were determined to succeed. 

“Thank you for taking your time to see us. We look forward to seeing you next year.” You said while waiting for the elevator to arrive. “I hope the office passes again with flying colors.” 

“Oh, we’re sure it will,” One man said, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. “We do have a few more stops after this. Which floor is sales on?” 

“Ah, they’re going to be from floors 10 through 15. It’s a rather large department.” You grit your teeth, watching the numbers above the elevator door, wishing they would change faster. 

“Thank you. We’ll see you next year.” 

“Yep! See you next year!” You waved cheerfully at them when the doors finally opened and the men stepped in. As soon as they were gone and you saw the floor number change, you rushed back into the office. You were barely a few steps in before you got the look of approval from Lucifer who was standing in front of his desk, leaning against it; waiting for your return. 

“Good job.” He praised, smiling softly at you.

He didn’t need to say anything else. Those two words expressed all the permission you needed to fall to your knees and cum in front of him while he kept vibrator going at the highest setting. You fell over, writhing and moaning, clawing at the floor beneath you as wave after wave of euphoric pleasure washed over you. His name fell from your lips in a mixture of curses and platitudes. You knew he was watching you come undone, and that just made it all the hotter for you. 

You gasped for air when you finally felt the vibrations slow to a halt. Your inner thighs coated in your essence and you reeked of sex. Lucifer walked over to you, kicking your legs open before bending down and flipping your skirt up to get a better look. His finger trailed up your slick thigh, pausing at your ruined panties before pushing them aside to take back his little toy. “I think you deserve to go home early for your hard work.” He said quietly, holding the vibratior up to his face and licking your essence off of it. 

“I… there’s still so much to do.” You complained, thinking about all the filing you had neglected recently as well as the data entry you needed to finish before the month ended. Also, you were really looking forward to possibly having his cock in you after work. It was Friday, after all. 

“It can wait. You need to go home and get cleaned up.” He slid your skirt back down and stood up. “There’s another inspection that’s scheduled after hours which I’ll need you here for.” 

You blinked, you hadn’t seen that in your schedule, but you didn’t want to doubt him. With it being hours, there were a multitude of things he could have meant by ‘inspection.’ Whatever the hidden meaning behind his words were, there was no point in denying him. 

“Should… I wear my usual lipstick?” you tentatively asked, slowly getting back up on your feet now that you had feeling in your legs again. 

He smiled, giving you the barest of nods. Bingo. You had guessed the right intention. Your heart fluttered at the anticipation and you scrambled to get your things in order to prepare yourself. Internally, you hoped you would be able to feel his demon cock in you again, but truthfully, you would take any chance you got with him. 

“See you at seven.” 

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled, already halfway out the door, already fantasizing what he might have planned for you. 

Little to your knowledge, he was about to exceed all your expectations. 

~~

The hours you had between arriving at home and when you had to be back at work seemed to drag on forever. You had already taken an extra long shower, washed your hair, laid out the best outfit you had, and done your makeup. Yet, you still had an hour to wait before heading back out. You laid listlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling and watching the fan above you spin. Eventually, you managed to fall into a light doze, your dreams filled with vivid images of how Lucifer had taken you previously while your imagination supplemented you with new ideas. With how he had toyed with you during your work hours; your mind went into overdrive thinking about other scenarios that little vibrator could be used while you were on the clock. 

By the time you made your trip back to work, refreshed from the shower and a nap, a majority of the employees had already gone home. There were a few stragglers who worked overtime or the night shift, but overall; the building was eerily quiet. Even the ride up to the office seemed to be subdued and muted. When you stepped past the heavy glass doors, Lucifer was already there, waiting on you at his desk. He beckoned you with a flick of his wrist and you hastened your pace to greet him. 

“You’re right on time. Good.” He pulled you close, giving you a deep kiss and wasting no time in getting you riled up. His tongue traced your lips before delving into your mouth while his hands worked at getting your clothes off of you. Ever being the best assistant he had, you helped his cause, undoing your skirt, stepping out of your heels and fumbling at the buttons of your blouse. 

He pulled away, and you could see the deep red glitter in his eyes. He pushed you back if only to help you out of your blouse, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. His gaze traveled up and down your body for a brief moment before he nodded in approval of your choice of lacy underthings. “Red and black… very good.” He praised before leading you away from his desk a few paces. 

You noticed several hanks of silk rope resting at the top of his desk; but you didn’t have much time to think about them when Lucifer spoke again. “I’ll have to work quickly… our guest is due to arrive at any moment.” 

“G-Guest?” You asked, suddenly rather self conscious of your exposed body. Lucifer paid no mind to your nervousness. He simply a length of rope, unraveling it and coaxing your body to how he saw fit. 

“Well, I did say we had one last inspection today, didn’t I? Surely you didn’t think I was going to be the one conducting it.” he snickered, pulling your arms behind you and tying them securely. You wiggled your fingers, seeing how much give he had put into the ties. His knots were firm, just shy of cutting off blood flow; though you were sure that your hands would be numb by the end of the night regardless of how tight his knots were. 

The ropes he used crisscrossed your body, framing your assets in the most flattering way. Your breasts held up perky and taught while a network of knots wove down your abdomen to focus attention to your crotch. It felt good to be bound, almost as if the ropes were hugging your body and keeping you safe. 

Lucifer reached for another length of rope, this time, threading the length through the hook at the ceiling. “You know… It’s not meant for plants at all.” He said, referring back to the conversation you had earlier with him. With this series of knots, he picked your leg up, suspending it high and leaving you to balance precariously on the ball of your other foot. Your pussy spread open wide for anyone to see. You could feel your body heat up as cool air passed your nether region. Just to make sure you were properly secured, Lucifer anchored the rope trailing from the ceiling to your arms, distributing the weight across your whole body. You were tilted to the side, forced to use your one unbound leg to keep balance. It was difficult as you were suspended just to the point where if you lost focus, your whole body would sway. “It’s meant to hold a lot more weight than just some hanging vines…” 

“Oh, am I too early?” A voice called from the door. Looking over, you saw the silhouette of a rather imposing man. In the dim light, you could make out a shock of red hair and broad broad, muscular shoulders. 

“Ah, just wrapping up right now.” Lucifer said, patting your head gently once the final knot was in place. “Feel free to come over.” 

With your whole body on display like this, there was no hiding how aroused you had gotten while Lucifer had done his work. The way his fingers deftly tied and secured those knots against your body had made you want more of his touches. Everything had been done with such efficiency, you had no time to savor what touches he gave you. 

You could hear heavy footsteps approaching and when the stranger finally came into view, you could finally see who your mystery guest was. He stood rather still, as if he knew you were taking stock of everything. Despite his size, there was a delicacy in his features. His messy red hair only made everything about him much more striking. The most breathtaking feature of all were his gold eyes. 

“This is Diavolo.” Lucifer said, introducing you to the man. “He’s the owner of our sister company, Devilgram.” 

“A pleasure to meet you… Sir…” 

“In his presence, you may refer to him as ‘my Lord.” Lucifer corrected. 

“My apologies, my lord. I was unaware of your appropriate title.” You lowered your head in shame, expecting reprimand. 

However, Diavolo only laughed, a sound that seemed to fill the room and bounce off the walls. “There’s no need to apologize for something you didn't know.” He reassured, patting the top of your head gently. “I am the guest here, I should be apologizing for being rude and not providing you adequate information to be prepared.” 

“Well, your request for a meeting was rather last minute. This is the best I can manage.” Lucifer quipped. “Next time, give me at least a day of notice.” 

“I will, if I remember.” Diavolo said, nonchalantly waving away Lucifer’s obvious irritation. He circled you, running his large hands across your body and examining your every curve. “Lucifer has told me so much about you.” He said, tracing your raised leg, stopping to tease at your slit once he reached the apex of your thighs. “Does she know…?” 

“She is well acquainted. Yes.” 

“Then, if I may…” 

“No. Not on your first time. I don’t want you to break her.” 

Diavolo chuckled at Lucifer’s curt replies. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were talking about. With a name like Diavolo, you were sure he and Lucifer were the same. “Alright, alright. I’ll take it easy this time then.” 

The red head’s hands were so big, they seemed to be everywhere on you at once. Your breasts, your ass, your abdomen, your thighs. Despite their size, he was gentle, squeezing you in the right places and making you sigh in anticipation. Eventually, he tipped your chin up to look at him before he swooped down for a deep kiss. 

Diavolo’s kisses were so different from Lucifer’s; but no less intense. There wasn’t a need to control every reaction that came out of you; but there was an energy about him that took your breath away. As the two of you made out, one hand snaked its way between your spread legs, parting your folds once your panties were pushed aside to slide up and down your sopping wet slit. “You have her trained so well.” He said, impressed with how easily you coated his digits. 

“I hope you didn’t expect anything less from me.” 

“Oh, absolutely not.” Diavolo chuckled again, shedding his blazer and tossing it to the side. “It’s pretty warm in here, isn’t it?” He asked while taking his clothes off himself. The tie at his neck came off next, followed by the white dress shirt that barely kept his muscles contained. Once bare, you had the pleasure of seeing his ripped abs and massive chest for yourself and you salivated at the vision before you. There was a growing bulge in his pants that he started to show off in his little strip show; and, you were very invested in seeing what you were going to have to deal with.

Just as he was starting to undo his pants and reveal the outline of what he was packing to you, your attention was sharply taken away from the show as Lucifer grabbed you by your hair, tilting your head up to meet with the tip of his cock. You hadn’t even heard him get undressed, yet there he was naked as the day he was born and hard as a rock. “He’s not the only one in this room.” Lucifer growled, a hint of possessiveness in his voice as he pressed the tip of his cock to your lips. 

You eagerly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip and whatever else you could fit. With your eyes locked in on Lucifer, you had no idea what to expect with Diavolo until you felt his hands at your waist, holding you steady from swaying too much. “Think she’ll be able to handle it like this?” He asked, his tone rather chipper for how sexually charged the air was around the three of you. 

“She’s been trained well.” Lucifer said, his grip on your hair tightening. “Isn’t that right?” 

You moaned into his cock, a sound of affirmation that you hoped would get the message across. Lucifer didn’t think it did, pulling his dick out of your mouth and you took deep gasping breaths, sticking your tongue out towards him, wanting to go back to sucking and licking it. “You were asked a question….” His tone was firm, the pain of his grip in your hair warning you to not test him further. 

“Y-yes, my Lord.” You confirmed. “I have only received the best training from my Sir..” As soon as your sentences were complete, Lucifer went back to stuffing your mouth with his cock and you eagerly sucked every inch he shoved into you. 

“Well, then don’t mind if I do.” Diavolo said, pushing the tip of his cock into you and you screamed against Lucifer’s length in your mouth. You had expected him to be big, but nothing prepared you for the stretch that you felt when Diavolo pushed into you. 

It was hard to breath. With your mouth full of dick and your pussy being pushed to its limits, you felt tears starting to form and drool pool at the base of Lucifer’s cock as your mind reeled in all the sensations at once. Despite being unused to the size of Diavolo’s cock, there was something familiar about it, as if you had felt it before. The girth and the length had been something you experienced at least once. And the moment he bottomed out in you, everything clicked 

That one time on the desk. When Lucifer watched you fuck yourself, it was the same fullness and feeling of deep penetration as that one time. A sadistic grin spread across Lucifer’s face when he saw the recognition dawn on your face. In that moment, his grip in your hair tightened painfully, pulling you forward to take every inch of your cock down your throat. 

You screamed in protest, but were helpless to stop what they did. Diavolo’s strong, sturdy hands kept you as still as possible while he slowly started to move in and out of you. You took whatever breaths you could in between Lucifer’s rough trusts down your throat. Your vision was blurry from tears, but you didn’t need to see when you were being used so thoroughly. 

They worked in tandem, a rhythm that had made you scream into Lucifer’s cock. The slow pace Diavolo had started with was soon replaced with a much faster, brutal one once he realized your body’s limits. Even if you were being held steady, you could feel your body sway back and forth in your suspended state. Every time Diavolo buried himself into you, Lucifer pulled out of your mouth, giving you a split second to breathe before he was down your throat again. At the same time, Diavolo would pull out from your pussy until just the tip remained, leaving your body feeling empty and craving for more. 

“So tight.” Diavolo praised, angling his hips upwards to get even deeper into you with his thrusts. “I can see why he needs to fuck you at least once a week. I wouldn’t be able to get enough of this.” 

Lucifer remained silent, focused on face fucking you while your other partner claimed your pussy. Having two holes being used at the same time felt so great, you hadn’t even noticed how close you were to cumming until it happened. You moaned loudly into Lucifer’s cock, making him hiss at the vibrations that traveled down his length and your walls clenched tightly around Diavolo, causing him to dig his nails into your hips while he struggled to catch his breath. Lucifer pulled his cock out, letting you take much needed deep breaths while Diavolo stayed still, keeping himself buried inside of you but not moving.  

Then, all of a sudden you were empty and you were falling. The sound of scissors cutting the ropes that held you up rang through the room and you collapsed onto the floor, falling onto the clothes that had been strewn about. You let out a loud yelp when you hit the ground, able to find balance without your arms. 

“Aww… I guess she wasn’t used to multitasking like that.” Diavolo whined. “I was hoping we could all cum together.” 

Lucifer tsked, getting you on your knees and pushing your shoulders down so that your ass was left up in the air. “Well, it’s not like I have the capacity to train her to do that.” He grumbled. He joined you on the ground, kneeling in front of you and pulling on your hair to raise your upper body to meet his cock again. “But I’m sure you’re a faster learner, right? You’ll get it right this time.” 

“Ye… Yes Sir.” You said, wincing at how hard he was holding onto your hair, but not saying anything about it. “I’ll make us all cum at the same time.” 

“Good girl…” He said, and once again your mouth surrounded his cock while Diavolo crammed his length back into your pussy. 

It was easier to control yourself now that you were grounded. You didn’t have to think about balancing, you only had to focus on staving your orgasm off until all three of you were at your limits. You moaned into Lucifer’s dick, redoubling your efforts to suck him off to completion while your hips pushed back onto Diavolo, encouraging him to go deeper and further into you to chase his own release. 

In this new dynamic, the two men also gave into their desires, moaning as they thrust themselves into you. Diavolo turned out to be a man who preferred to grunt compared to Lucifer who liked to moan breathily. The sounds of sex echoed in the office, the wet slurping noises from your blowjob were accompanied by the equally wet and sloppy sounds of skin hitting skin while Diavolo took your cunt. It didn’t take long for you to start feeling the tell tale pressure of another orgasm building up in your abdomen. The most important matter was now making sure you had control over it until the other two were ready. 

“Nngh… I’m close… what about you?” Diavolo was the first to admit his climax was approaching. 

“Yes… yes…” Lucifer hissed in reply. “I’m so close…” 

In reaction to that statement, one of Diavolo’s hands reached around your waist to rub at your clit, bringing you to where they were, right on the precipice of release. “Now… let’s cum…” He declared with all the authority of a lord. And you obeyed without question. 

Hot semen filled your holes all at once. Your walls milked the giant cock buried in your pussy while you struggled to swallow the load that was blown into your mouth. Even with your best efforts, you could feel some of Lucifer’s seed dribbling down the corner of your lips. Your pussy fared similarly, filled to the brim and leaking cum as the men emptied themselves into you. 

There were several long minutes of heavy breathing and soft moans of pleasure before they left your body. Lucifer being the first to pull out, letting you breathe, the grip in your hair loosening as he moved to undo your bindings. Diavolo stayed inside of you until he was sufficiently soft, groaning as he left your warm pussy, but admiring the way his seed dripped out of your gaping hole. 

With the ties finally gone from your arms, you flexed them gingerly, letting blood and feeling come back to them. The rest of the ropes came undone as well, and when you were finally free from it all, a beautiful network of marks crisscrossed your body, likely to remain on you for a few days at least. They would serve as a beautiful reminder of the night you shared with these two men. 

Using the discarded clothes as a cushion, Lucifer pulled you into his arms, laying you down and curling around you, spooning you from behind. Diavolo followed suit shortly after, sandwiching you between the two of them and simply watching you as you drifted out of consciousness. 

“Very good.” Lucifer murmured, burying his head into the crook of your neck and dozing alongside you. “You did so well…” 

“Thank you, sir…” You mumbled, already half asleep. 

“Lucifer.” He corrected, pulling you tightly against him. 

“Thank you… Lucifer…” You murmured right before properly passing out. 

“So, did we pass inspection?” Lucifer asked softly, placing soft kisses on the top of your head, peeking over at the larger man as he cuddled you. He’d keep you close, pressed up against his chest, synching his heartbeat with yours until you had to leave in order to catch the last train home.

“With flying colors.” Diavolo said, grinning from ear to ear.

~~

Taglist: @ptv-hades @bluelipsblueveins-blue @utopiamiroh

[artificialqueens]

You've Got the Love I Need (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Five times Denali and Rosé share their love with a love language, and one time they share it with words.

A/N: So excited to finally finish this! Writing has been so slow for me after finishing up the hunger games fic, but I finally got this done, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it and love hearing your thoughts!

Title from You've Got the Love by Florence + the Machine.

1. Acts of Service

“Denali, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Rosé asks--or rather, she asks the pile of clothes Denali is hidden behind, as she carries an overflowing laundry basket.

“I got it.”

“I think I’d be more convinced if I could actually see you.” Rosé leaves the rice she’s stirring and helps Denali set the laundry basket down on the floor, clothes spilling over the sides.

Denali sighs, picking up a shirt and folding it before tossing it back down. “I should probably finish dinner before I do this. Ugh, and I still need to shower and revise that competition routine.” She rubs at her tired eyes, and Rosé’s heart aches. Denali’s had such a busy week at work that she’s gotten behind in just about everything else. Rosé offered to help her already, but Denali said she was fine, so used to doing things on her own that asking for help--let alone accepting it--wouldn’t even cross her mind.

“Hey.” Rosé gently rests her hands on Denali’s shoulders. “I’ll finish dinner while you take a shower. Then you can finish your work after.”

She sees the immediate protest in Denali’s eyes, the stubborn insistence that she can do everything on her own. And technically she can, but Rosé doesn’t want her to stress herself when she doesn’t have to. Rosé is more than happy to help, and she herds Denali to the bathroom before she can protest.

Rosé hums through the kitchen, organizing the fridge and loading Denali’s dishwasher, arranging all the food on the table as Denali emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp at the edges, her face soft and smile wide.

“This is so good,” Denali sighs around a mouthful of food. “Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

Rosé just laughs. She’s gotten better at cooking over the years, especially in the past few months she’s been dating Denali, eager to try new recipes that would make Denali happy.

They do the dishes side by side, bumping hips and shoulders, and retreat to the couch so Denali can work while a cooking show plays in the background.

Rosé reaches for the laundry basket and starts folding one of Denali’s towels.

“You don’t have to do that,” Denali says.

“I want to.”

“But it’s our date night, you shouldn’t have to--”

“I want to,” Rosé says again. “I like helping you out, taking care of you. I mean it.”

Denali smiles hesitantly, relaxing again as she returns to her work, and it fills Rosé with warmth. It’s special to help Denali like this, to take care of her and ease some of her stress, and it’s even more special because of how stubborn and independent Denali normally is. She’s not just accepting Rosé’s help, but her love as well. Love that Rosé wants to give, give in every folded towel and every dinner she makes, a love made of her care. Love that she hasn’t been able to put into words yet, thinking it was too early for those exact words, that she should wait a bit more to say them.

She finishes the laundry and when Denali finishes her work, they come together on the couch like two waves meeting. Denali snuggles against Rosé’s right side, resting her head on her shoulder, while Rosé slips an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Denali is half-asleep when the show ends, and Rosé carefully carries her to bed and tucks her in, leaving with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

—-

2. Words of Affirmation

Despite the freezing cold of the skating rink’s locker room, sweat beads on Denali’s forehead. This is the first routine she’s choreographed and coached for the eleven-and-twelve-year-old group she just took on in addition to the younger kids. Before that she stuck mostly with five- and six-year-olds, who were encouraged on the ice by their parents and thrilled by the sparkly costumes and idea of jumping in the air. It’s fun, and most of them stop formal lessons when it’s time to move into the next age group. But there’s rarely anyone who would continue to the eleven-twelve group if they weren’t serious about it, weren’t in it to compete and win. They’ll be competing with Denali as the coach now, with Denali to blame if something goes wrong.

What if something does go wrong? What if she didn’t teach them well enough? What if she’s not even a good teacher at all, and all the things she did teach them are wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of her? What if--

“I don’t know what it is about the snack bar here, but their hot chocolate is so good--Denali, what’s wrong?”

Denali’s head snaps up to see Rosé in the locker room, two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate in her hands. She sets them on a bench and comes to Denali’s side, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you nervous about the routine?” Rosé asks.

Denali nods shakily, drawing in a breath. “It’s…bigger than I’m used to. With the little kids, it’s a huge deal if they stand up the whole time. But these kids really want to be great, and don’t even get me started on the parents. I’m just worried I didn’t teach them well enough, that I’m a bad coach.”

It’s a weight off her chest, and it leaves her slumping in relief, leaning into the hands Rosé places on her arms.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rosé says gently. “I was a wreck when I started teaching and we had our first choir concert. But you’re an amazing coach. I know you’ve taught those kids everything they need to know. I believe in you, Denali, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Those kids are lucky to have you as their coach. And if any of their parents give you trouble, they’ll have to go through me first,” Rosé says fiercely, squeezing Denali’s arms.

Denali wipes away a tear, Rosé’s words everything she needed to hear. Denali’s no stranger to anxiety, to the doubts and worries swirling around her head. But to have Rosé, to have those words of trust and support, is sometimes exactly what she needs to quiet them down. Rosé believes in her, and Denali can believe in herself too.

“You’re right,” Denali says quietly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Rosé nods, handing Denali one of the cups. “Let’s have some hot chocolate and go out there, okay?”

Denali nods, the drink warming her just as much as Rosé’s hand in hers as they head out.

—-

3. Quality Time

Ever since Rosé was little, she’s loved blanket forts. It started out as something her parents would do to make movie nights more special, but it quickly became something she asked for almost every weekend, or whenever she was upset. Something about curling up on the living room rug with blankets all around her made her feel safe, made movies even better and soothed any bad days she had at school.

The first time Rosé sheepishly suggested they watch a movie inside one, she hadn’t expected Denali to leap to her feet and run around the place looking for blankets and pillows. Denali had been in some nature scout troop when she was a kid--Rosé squealed at the picture of tiny Denali, teeth missing from her wide smile, wearing a vest and sash covered in patches--and knew how to pitch a tent, a skill she brought to their blanket fort. She used kitchen chairs and the couch for extra support, a canopy of cotton and flannel covering the living room. It stood strong and sturdy while they were nestled safely inside, and it became a movie night tradition.

“How’s the popcorn coming?” Denali asks.

“Almost done.” Rosé shakes the pot as the kernels pop while Denali tends to the hot chocolate, pouring it into two mugs--the one with little cartoon dogs Rosé bought so Denali could have her own special mug here, and the one with pink music notes Denali got Rosé as a just-because gift.

Rosé dumps the popcorn in a big bowl and Denali drops fistfuls of marshmallows into the mugs, bringing it all to the living room and sliding under the blanket fort.

The best part about the fort is that it’s just them inside. They leave their phones on the couch, and there’s no work, no stress, no distractions. Just them together, their attention fully devoted to each other. A time to simply be together with nothing in the way.

Rosé starts Stardust, nestling into the long body pillow perfect for fort nights, letting Denali snuggle up next to her. Rosé takes in her long eyelashes, her warm eyes, her soft lips. She takes it all in, this time to just be with Denali.

It would be a good time to tell Denali she loves her, but it’s so quiet, so peaceful, just their breathing and the movie, that Rosé doesn’t want to disturb the moment. Besides, being with Denali like this, wiping melted marshmallow off her nose, is a love more than words can describe.

—

4. Physical Touch

Denali has always loved touch. Her parents loved her, she never doubted that, but they weren’t ones for physical affection. So Denali treasured every hug or hand on a shoulder she got from them, and sought out touches wherever she could get them. Her skating coach’s arms around her in a hug, congratulating her on her routine. A friend’s legs thrown over hers while they lay in the sunny backyard. Holding hands and interlocking fingers with her first boyfriend in high school, her first girlfriend in college.

She always sought and gave touches in her relationships. An arm around their waist, a hand on their back, her head on their shoulder. Something to let them know she was there, to share her love with them. And every touch she got back let her know they were there, filled her with their love too.

Rosé had told Denali early on that she’s asexual, and it didn’t change the way Denali feels about her, didn’t make her want to stop dating Rosé, just like Denali telling Rosé she’s bi didn’t change things either. If anything, it brought them closer, brought another level of trust between them.

But Denali also wanted to make sure her touches were okay, so they talked about what Rosé is comfortable with, what her boundaries are. Rosé gets a little uncomfortable with hands on her thighs, but she loves pretty much all other touches, loves them just as much as Denali. Hand-holding, bumping into each other while they cook, cuddling while they watch movies—Denali loves it all, and loves receiving it from Rosé especially, being filled with her love. Denali’s favorite is when Rosé wraps her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Denali’s shoulder. Rosé does it now, and Denali melts into the touch. Rosé’s been extra clingy tonight, and Denali knows it’s because she’s had a stressful week, busy with concert rehearsals for her music classes.

“Cuddles tonight?” Denali asks. The touch will comfort Rosé, but each touch will comfort Denali too, letting her share her love and feel close to Rosé.

“Please,” Rosé sighs, guiding her to the couch with her arms still around Denali’s waist. She lays on her back and pulls Denali on top of her, their touches not stopping for a moment. “This week has been so long. I swear I hear those choir songs in my sleep.”

Denali snorts, resting her head on Rosé’s chest and stroking her arm. Her touches are gentle yet grounding, soothing the both of them, giving and receiving love the best way she knows how. She continues the touches as Rosé talks, talks about how much her students have improved, how excited they are. She’s rubbing gentle circles on Rosé’s shoulder as her words slow down and her eyes drift closed.

I love you, Denali thinks. They haven’t said it yet, though it’s not for a lack of the feeling. More that they feel it so much, both in themselves and from each other, that they’ve been hesitant to turn it to words, waiting for an opportunity that would be worthy of such a confession.

Denali could just say it now. She doesn’t need a special occasion to say it, even if it’s the first time. But Rosé has been still for the past few minutes, so she’s at least half-asleep, if not all the way there. Denali can wait. She strokes Rosé’s hair, and when Rosé sighs in content, Denali thinks she got the message anyway.

—-

5. Receiving Gifts

“Rosieeeee.”

Rosé looks up as Denali enters the apartment singing her name.

“What is it?”

“I got a present for you.” Denali has that almost-smug smile on her face, the one she always gets when has something she knows Rosé will love.

And Rosé finds a similar smile of excitement crossing her own face, eagerly accepting the bag Denali gives her. It’s not that Rosé has come to expect Denali to bring her something all the time. It’s not that she even wants Denali to bring something all the time, or that she sees her as nothing but a gift-bringer. It’s that Denali’s gifts, which might be tiny little things to anyone else, make Rosé feel loved. Make her feel known. No matter what Denali brings, Rosé loves it. Sometimes it’s something sweet, a chocolate bar with ruby chocolate purchased because it’s Rosé’s favorite color, shared between them while watching a movie. Sometimes it’s just silly, like the mini unicorn erasers Rosé keeps in a little bowl by her desk. They’re all treasured by Rosé, because Denali saw even the tiniest thing in a store somewhere and instantly thought of her, and it makes Rosé marvel at Denali’s love every time.

It’s like when her parents would surprise her with a new book that became a favorite, or with a new pack of crayons that she used to fill up her coloring books. The purest feeling of excitement, of trust and safety and love.

“Come on, open it!”

As much as she loves to receive the gifts, to receive Denali’s love, it’s equally clear how much Denali loves to give it. She barely makes it five seconds before giving it to Rosé, watching her open it with that proud grin on her face like a parent watching their kid on Christmas morning.

That grin is on full display now, and Rosé smiles too as she pulls the top off a box, one you might use for earrings or a necklace. Inside the box is a beautiful rose keychain, soft pink with gold sparkles. But the keychain is attached to something--to a key, and Rosé looks up in confusion.

Denali looks at her. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place. Just in case, you know?”

Rosé grins. “You’re gonna regret this, Denali. I’ll sneak in your room at six am and give you a singing wake-up call. You’re not getting rid of me now,” she teases, but she squeezes Denali’s hand to show how much it means to her.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Denali says. “Unless you really do show up at six, then I’m taking that key back and burning it.”

They laugh together, and Rosé already plans on going there next week to surprise Denali.

---

+1

“Are you ready?” Rosé asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Denali says confidently, rubbing her hands together. “The real question is whether this place is ready for me.”

She strides into the boardwalk arcade, relishing in the bright neon lights and the hiss of arcade games spitting out paper tickets. Her parents used to drag her out of here as a kid, cutting short her quest to earn enough tickets for one of the big prizes, not just the bouncy ball or eraser you got for a mere 300 tickets. But today, it’s just her and Rosé, and they’ve already gone on the boardwalk rides and stuffed themselves with funnel cake, and now they can stay here as long as they want, clear the place out of tickets and prizes.

Denali hits up the skee-ball racks first, her and Rosé giggling next to each other as their balls fly up the ramps, giving into their competitive sides just a little as they aim for the 100-point slots in the top.

“Your aim could use a little work,” Rosé teases.

“So could your form,” Denali says. “Let me take you to the rink some time, I’ll help with that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” It’ll be another adventure, another night to enjoy, and Denali looks at Rosé, at her beautiful smile that still makes Denali’s heart flutter, and knows there’ll be no shortage of adventures, of nights like this.

She grabs Rosé’s hand and they race across the sticky floor, taking on pinball and balloon darts and Pac-Man, joking and laughing the whole time. At the end of the night, tickets spill out of their hands like tentacles, and Denali looks up at the row of prizes behind the main desk. She turns to Rosé and nods, and they pass out their tickets to the kids scattered through the arcade.

“Ice cream?” Denali asks. “All that winning made me hungry.”

Rosé snorts, but happily leads her to the ice cream stand. The stars are just starting to come out, little twinkles that catch Rosé’s hair, and Denali looks at her and says it.

“I love you.” She doesn’t need a special occasion for it, doesn’t need a worthy moment. Her love is something she can share as often as she wants, in words and in actions.

Rosé’s eyes widen and she breaks into a huge smile, pulling Denali close and kissing her cheek.

“I love you too.”