#anyways sorry for these weird thoughts in the tags i’m half asleep

[babygirlfry]

had a dream i was at a giant theme park (size of a city type thing) and joe biden had a restaurant there called HUNTER. honestly, it was kinda cute. drove my conservative family crazy to see it.

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Fic request! I'd love to read more about Niki and James and their early-days flatshare - maybe something a bit hurt/comfort where Niki is the one who gets the comfort, and James is unexpectedly mature and sensible (for at least a short while!)? But dealer's choice if that doesn't resonate!

my love mine all mine (part 2) — niki lauda x james hunt

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

note: late sorry but here I am. hope you’ll like it!

masterlist

The practice didn’t go well, so Niki was particularly downhearted those days. He usually could manage well his emotions by telling himself how to improve, even when it wasn’t his fault, but sometimes it wasn’t easy. He travelled a lot and was always busy and that made him feel tired most of the time.

That night he was sitting on the bed contemplating the circuit he had drawn on a notebook.

He was concentrated when he heard the door opening and closing. “I’m home!” James walked in the apartment and knocked on Niki’s room. “Can I?”

“Uhm, yes.” Niki’s eyes did not move from the notebook.

He half opened the door and glanced inside the bedroom. “I had dinner out, hope you don’t mind.”

“Ja, I’m not hungry anyway.”

James probably had noticed his not so joyful expression, because he stepped in the room and glanced at him with arms crossed. Weird, thought Niki. When he was in a bad mood, and it wasn’t rare, James used to ignore him to avoid being treated badly.

“What happened?”

Niki shook his head and put a hand on his forehead. “Nothing, just a bad week.”

“What are you looking at?” James sat next to him on the bed and looked at the notes. “Oh, that looks familiar.” He laughed slightly and then closed his notebook. “I think you should take a break.”

Niki looked towards him in surprise. “What?”

“Some rest. Everything will get clearer then.”

“I don’t need to rest.”

“Your eyes don’t seem to agree.”

Niki sighed. He put the book aside reluctantly.

“There. Now, what’s the deal?” James was unusually kind.

“It’s just that… sometimes it gets difficult, I don’t know if I’m enough for all of this.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you are more than enough. Everybody acknowledges your talent.”

“That’s bullshit! Nobody believes in me.” Niki was tired of people telling him he wasn’t suited for the sport, he was too strict and he knew one failure could made him loose the job.

“Well, I do.”

Niki looked up at him, not expecting that statement at all.

James put a hand on his shoulder. “And you should too.” He smiled. “Hey, don’t think that because we race against each other I don’t think you’re a great driver.”

“Sure, and you’re a great liar.”

“Stop that. I mean it.”

Niki couldn’t really imagine someone being actually there to support him. He felt so grateful for having James in his life. “Thank you.”

“Don’t. Now just lay down. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

As he laid down, James’ hand hadn’t left his shoulder. He was already sleepy, so it didn’t take much before he closed his eyes. Falling asleep, he couldn’t quite comprehend what the sudden soft feeling on his cheek was. Probably a kiss. Waking up he would’ve wonder if he had dreamt of it.

[blackberrysummerblog]

WIP Wednesday

I dream of someday having the energy to make a banner😂. I should probably worry more about finishing my WIPs though! Thank you for tagging me this morning @hushed-chorus!

I wrote a little more following the bit of my crucible marriage au posted on Sunday, which I would link to but I’m on my phone just before work. Anyway, this is the next morning, Simon POV. It needs some cleaning up as I wrote it without doing any editing, but I’m still having fun so I hope you enjoy! Excerpt and tags under the cut :)

Merlin, I feel rested. I’ve felt rested every morning since coming here. I’ve got to remember to ask Baz about this bed. There must be some charm on it because I’ve never been an easy sleeper.

I should be sore, too, after the beating I took from the river trolls. I know there must have been a bruise on my face when I came home last night. (Home, ha.) I remember feeling my jaw throb as I thumped my way upstairs. There’s nothing there now.

I’m kneeling up on the bed and touching my face in confusion when Baz steps out of the en suite and ruins my life by being dressed only in a towel. “Oh,” he says, freezing in place under my slack-jawed stare. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

Fuck. It’s weird to think how often I’ve felt his body—pressed up against me in the hallway or the bed, or under me in the grass, over me on the couch—he’s so familiar that my hands actually feel warm from the memory when I look at him, and yet it’s new to see him half-naked.

Oh no. Suddenly I remember. “Did I...flop on top of you when I got home last night?”

Baz still looks stunned, like a deer in the headlights, but he nods silently just the same. Christ. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, tugging at my hair. It’s still so strange that nothing hurts. I always hurt after a mission. “Wait. Did you heal me?”

Baz shrugs, lifting the shoulder of the hand that’s affixed to the edge of the towel around his waist. A drop of water is sliding down his neck so slowly that it’s actually wrecking me. “You weren’t too bad,” he says finally, his voice dry, as though I’m doing something to him, too. I can’t be, though, it’s just me. And I’m fully dressed anyway, unlike some people I could mention. “Mostly you were just filthy, but I spelled you clean as well.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say to that, not really. I wish he’d get dressed. No, I wish he’d just lose the towel and get back in bed. I wish he’d throw himself on top of me like I did to him last night. Maybe without the immediately falling asleep part, though. “Thanks. And...I’m sorry.”

Just like that, whatever unfamiliar discomfort seems to have held him to the floor melts away, and Baz visibly relaxes. “What for?” he asks, making for the closet.

“For collapsing on top of you like a bag of bones,” I say, turning to follow him with my gaze. The closet is beside the bed, so I can’t see him once he goes inside. I almost get up to follow him in, but manage to restrain myself. “For...not taking a shower, at least. For not lying on my own side of the bed.”

Baz pokes his head out of the door, one eyebrow raised. “You never do, Snow. Nothing new there.”

“Hey! I’ve woken up with you all over me a couple of times as well, you know!”

A grin flashes across his face, gone so quick I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it, but then he winks and disappears inside the closet again. “Be a little less warm and comfortable,” he suggests.

He’s flirting with me. I don’t know why it seems bizarre. Baz must like me in that way, at least a little bit, if all the snogging is anything to go by. I sit on the side of the bed, hands gripping the edge of the mattress between my knees. “So does that mean I’m forgiven?” I ask when he emerges in slim dark trousers and yet another silk shirt—today it’s a pale pink with grayish green leaves. I try not to smile as he heads straight for me, stopping just shy of nudging up between my legs.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” I can’t get over how gently Baz is looking at me, his eyes caressing my cheek moments before his hand follows suit. “I don’t like thinking of you hurt, Snow.”

“‘M used to it.” It’s true enough; I never come back from any of the Mage’s missions without at least a few bumps and bruises—or worse, dislocations or breaks. One time, a nearly detached thumb.

Baz frowns, the furrow between his brows so distracting that I almost miss him saying, “I don’t like that you’re used to it.”

“It’s what I’m for,” I object, leaning back and shaking his hand away from my face.

“I fucking think not.” Baz’s jaw clenches, his eyes dark as storm clouds now in his pale, angular face. “You don’t belong to the Mage, Simon.”

It’s him calling me Simon that does it; any time he brings up the Mage I’m ready to fight, but that takes the wind completely out of my sails. My tail had begun twitching back and forth furiously while we spoke, but now it curls around Baz’s knee—I’m afraid that since I shook his hand away, he’ll leave. I know my voice is barely audible as I look up at him. “Who do I belong to then, Baz?”

“Me!” He grimaces and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that. Yourself, obviously. You don’t belong to me; I don’t know why I said that, Snow.”

“Because you’re my husband? Don’t we belong to each other now, Baz? At least in some way.”

Baz scowls, but he doesn’t try to walk away. Instead, he puts his hands on his hips. “For a certainty I don’t need some fool in green tights treating my husband like a disposable rag. You were in a state when you finally dragged yourself in last night, Snow.”

I sit up, giving him a half smile. “You said I wasn’t that bad,” I remind him, sliding my hands up his waist in a way that I hope is at least a little soothing. “I know I wasn’t good for much when I came in.”

Baz throws his hands in the air and makes an exasperated noise. “I don’t need you to be good for anything! I need you to be unharmed! I need you to be safe, Simon. Would you like it if our positions were reversed?”

Have a great day everyone! Tagging @palimpsessed @cutestkilla @onepintobean @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @ionlydrinkhotwater @ebbpettier @confused-bi-queer @aceumbrellaheroes @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @letraspal @aristocratic-otter @bazzybelle @sailorblossoms @whogaveyoupermission @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @ileadacharmedlife @thehoneyedhufflepuff @martsonmars @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @larkral @theearlgreymage @fucking-gay-frogs and anyone else who’d like to share!

[chippedaxe]

AXE! Could you do the usual mcyts you write for with cockwarming HCS? Ty! <3

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Title: cock-warming HCS <3

Warnings: NSFW!, Switch reader?, pet names, idk what other tags tbh.

Pronouns: They/Them

Synopsis: cockwarming headcanons of the mcyt's.

Word count: 1.2k

Note: :P

*There are mentions of holes and that but you can just imagine it as either a vagina or an asshole.

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Dream

- You came up to Dream and lowered your head so you didn't have to meet his gaze, he immediately saw something was wrong and asked about it "Nothing bad- I was just thinking.. Could we do something.." you trailed off with your thought process.

- "Tell me now before you forget about it, darling" Dream grabs your chin gently "I wanna do cock-warming with you.. Please?" you spoke up "Oh of course! I'd love to do that with you, sweetheart" His eyes lit up and you could tell he was excited.

- He would offer you his lap to sit on quite a lot since then, hoping you would warm up his dick as well. "Come on- you said you wanted to try it!" he'd innocently say "Well okay then.."

- You'd lower yourself down on him, your tight hole stretching as his cock pushed further into you "Oh you feel so good.. It's gonna be hard to just sit here staying still with your body feeling like that.." Dream groans into your ear.

- It'd be almost like torture to Dream, he would have to just sit there doing nothing?? Maybe he shouldn't have been so eager to get you on his cock..

Sapnap

- You were laying on the couch with Sapnap when he pressed up against you from behind, his bulge digging into your ass "Need some help?" you asked and started to turn around but Sapnap just hugged you.

- "No- just need to be closer to you.." Sapnap mumbled into the crook of your neck "I know a way we can be closer, come on darling" you caressed his cheek. Sapnap pulled away and pouted as he pulled down his pants just a bit so his cock could come out, you then pulled your pants down and sat on his cock.

- You threw your arms around Sapnap's neck, snuggling against him warmly "Oh this is wonderful.. Love bein' so close to you, darlin'.." Sapnap whispers in your ear.

- Sapnap held onto you so tightly that you couldn't even move if you wanted to! It was nice to be so close to him but it'd make you so needy whenever he'd shift around on the couch, small movements making you squeak.

- Sapnap would eventually break and just grab onto your hips, ramming into your without warning and smashing up your insides with his dick.

George

- He will be laying with you on the bed when you bring it up, he would be half asleep and not realize what you're saying until he wakes up again in the morning. "Wait- did you say you wanted to cock warm me or was that just a dream I had?" he wouldn't be too sure but would be happy to do it with you.

- He wouldn't understand it a whole lot but would be happy to do it if you wanted him to, pulling him to the side on the bed and slipping him inside of you to just rest in there. "Wait- no moving?" George is gutted, he didn't know that was apart of cock warming.

- George probably disregards it and does it anyways, grinding against you sometimes when it'd get too much for him, normally making you end up with cum stuffed inside of you like usual.

- "Sorry I didn't do it right love, felt too good" George hums into your ear as he hugs you from behind and leans his head on your shoulder "It's fine.. I liked it too" you reassure him.

Eret

- You crawled onto their lap and stared down at her face, his eyes glancing up to meet yours "yes? What is it?" he grinned at you. "I- I want something.." You weren't great at speaking what you wanted but she helped to encourage you "Oh yeah? What is it?" He asked as they grabbed your hips.

- You squeaked and gulped nervously "Can I just sit on your cock? Not move- just sit there?" you asked "If you can handle it then of course my darling" Eret stroked your hair and smiled fondly. You were happy to get what you wanted but you felt slightly upset from his remark, of course you could handle it.

- Irony; simply put, dramatic irony is when a person makes a harmless remark, and someone else who hears it knows something that makes the remark have a different, and usually unpleasant, meaning. That was in fact ironic, because you in fact could not handle it.

- You were squirming on their lap and trying your best not to move, not wanting to upset Eret in any way "Dear. What's wrong? Speak up" Eret caressed your cheek and that's when you knew that she could see right through you. You sighed and started to move slowly "Aw so you couldn't handle it after all, it's cute you tried though.." Eret shrugged.

Karl

- He was the one who brought it up with you, wanting to be closer to you and touch you more. "Please- Can I just slip it in you? I won't move, promise!" Karl pleaded "Oh of course hun, that sounds good to me" you accepted.

- Karl was ecstatic and was literally bouncing for joy, hopping in place and clapping his hands "Oh yes! I can't wait!" he was all giggly and excited now. Great, now you've got a hyperactive Karl.

- You were cuddling him on the couch when you remembered his request from earlier, slipping your pants down a bit to reveal your bare crotch. Karl looked down at you "What're you doing?" he looked at you, you hummed in response and tugged his pants down so you could slip his cock inside you.

- Karl let out a load groan when you finally slid him inside, sighing and relaxing when you snuggled up against him "Oh this is nicer than I expected.. I love you" Karl smiled down at you.

Punz

- "Can I cock-warm you?" Punz asked as he got into bed, pulling the blankets away from you which left you laying there in the cold. "Cock-warm? Sure.." you agreed reluctantly as you had no idea what he meant.

- Punz got on top of you and slid your pajama bottoms down, taking your underwear off too and sliding himself inside of you. You hissed at the feeling "ah- Punz.." you winced "Does that hurt?" Punz froze. "No- I'm just a bit sensitive at the moment" your face heated up, "Don't worry darlin' I'm not gonna move" Punz kissed your forehead.

- It felt weird to have his dick just sitting inside of you, not moving at all. One of you would go to move which would result in a bit of friction which would tickle the both of you a bit "Ah-"

- You could probably cock-warm him some other time without it resulting in rough sex but that time wasn't now.

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

Clint's Stray PT.2

a/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all the support on part one of this story! I've been enjoying writing it and I have some exciting ideas for where it's going! Stay tuned, more chapter(s) coming this week!

Warnings: Mild Hawkeye spoilers nothing much.

Word count: 1667

Concept: You and Natasha go to Clint’s for Christmas and you meet the strays that Clint brought home. One, in particular, caught your eye.

Feel free to comment to be added to the tag list.

Part 2 of ?

Taglist: @imapotatao @kacka84 @sofisnn @hoeforwandanat @variant-l0852 @mellowladyangel

“Wake up sleepy heads! It’s Christmas! Barton made breakfast cmon get ready.” Nat says as she’s tapping you on the back.

You hear her feet as they walk out of the room only to open your eyes and find Kate cuddled up into your chest. Kate starts to come to and is startled awake when she realizes what she’s doing.

“So sorry about that I don’t know how or why it happened,” she says.

You can feel your face start to turn red from embarrassment and the fact that you definitely liked it. “No- no problem I should probably go get dressed, see you downstairs.” You say as you walk backwards practically stumbling out of her room.

You walk into your room to see a red-headed Russian sitting on your bed.

“So…” she says with one eyebrow raised.

“So what?” You say as you start to change.

“What was that little snuggle fest about?”

“Nothing, we just fell asleep next to each other.”

“Uh-huh. Because every time we fall asleep next to each other I’m also nose deep in your tits.” Nat says with a laugh.

“Okay okay, enough. We are just friends and were getting to know each other last night.” You say.

“Getting to know each other, yeah sure okay. Why don’t you just go for it? I can tell you’re clearly into her. And besides, I know you have a thing for badass women that are way cooler than you anyways.”

You turn and look at your best friend as she giggles and your jaw is on the ground. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” You say in a demanding voice.

“Please, you practically bit your own tongue off when you first met my sister. Remember that?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. That’s in the past Nat.”

“Exactly. That’s why you should go for this!”

You and Yelena dated for 3 and a half years. She broke it off when she moved away for work and left Natasha to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. This was almost a year ago and you’ve been hurt ever since. However, every day you have gotten better and yesterday was one of the first times that you hadn’t thought about her. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe Kate is a good thing and will be a step in the right direction for moving on for good.

You’re all ready to go and you and Natasha walk downstairs. You see Kate sitting at the table and before you could make a choice, Nat took the seat at the opposite end of the table thus forcing you to sit next to Kate.

“I had a really fun time with you last night.” She says.

“Me too. Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

She smiled at you while she ate her pancakes. You continued to talk to Clint and his family while enjoying your Christmas breakfast. You felt Kate's leg brush up against yours and your eyes widened. It could mean absolutely nothing but it was there and you made sure to also apply a little pressure in return so she knew you were okay with it.

Everyone finished eating and then came the presents! Since you were a guest there wasn’t much for you but you more so enjoyed watching everyone else open theirs.

“Okay Kate, this one's for you,” Clint says handing her a big box.

“Awe guys you didn’t have to get me anything. You already let me live with you!” She says with a laugh.

“Please, this is the least we can do since you help out around here so much and put up with the kids.”

Kate gives them a smile as she begins to tear apart the wrapping paper.

“NO. WAY.” She says as she pulls out this weird looking object.

“What is it?” You ask.

“A COLLAPSIBLE BOW!” She says with the most excitement and glee in her voice.

Clint and Laura’s faces are lit up with smiles watching the overwhelming happiness unfold in the room.

“That’s pretty cool. I’ve never actually shot a bow and arrow before.”

“Oh my gosh, I have to teach you! We can go out back right now and do it.”

“Right now? Shouldn’t we finish watching everyone open the presents?” You say with a chuckle.

“Go, go, go have fun kids. Be careful with that thing. You’d be surprised how different it feels from a stationary one.” Clint says.

Kate practically races out the door with you following close behind.

“WOW. This thing is freakin awesome.” She says. “Okok come here, I already feel like you’re going to be a natural.”

She hands you the bow and shows you where to place your hands. To make it easier she comes up behind you and puts one hand on the one that’s holding the actual bow and the other on your arm as it pulls back the string. The feeling of her pressed up against your back and breathing down your neck was doing unspeakable things to you. You felt a heat start to burn in your stomach and the hair on the back of your neck rising.

“Okay y/n, you want to pull the string right about here. Once you have a feel for it and locked onto your target, release it.”

You take a deep breath, do as she says and let it fly. It landed surprisingly close to the centre of the target. About halfway between the edge and the bullseye.

“Wow! Y/n! That was great! You hit the target which is awesome. Some people don’t get it on the first try. And might I say, you look really good holding the bow.”

You can feel your cheeks getting flushed with red again from her compliments.

“Guess I’m just a natural.” You say throwing your hands up in the air. “By tomorrow I’ll be able to outshoot you.”

Kate just laughs and grabs the bow from you. “You wish y/l/n.”

Kate grabs three arrows and managed to hit three different targets in a row.

“That was hot.”

Kate turns around and looks at you as your eyes widen realizing that you somehow said that out loud? Why in God’s name did that come out verbally. That was an internal thought and definitely should not have been said out loud. She just sort of laughs at you while a fairly awkward smile appears on your face. Did she hear what you said? Is she ignoring what you said? Should you be concerned or relieved?

Kate didn’t say anything about your comment from earlier when you were outside shooting arrows. Enough time had passed that you are fairly certain she didn’t hear you completely clear. Kate was helping set the table while Clint and Laura were cooking in the kitchen and the kids were outside playing. You see Nat sitting on the couch and decide to join her for a minute.

“Soooo…how’s it going with *she nods her head in Kate’s direction*”.

“I accidentally said that she was hot when she was shooting arrows and I don’t even know if she heard me or not because she didn’t and still hasn’t said anything about it.” You say.

“Oh boy. Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know! It literally just slipped out of my mouth. I have not been this nervous around a girl in a long time.”

“I’m telling you, just shoot your shot, I really do think she’s into you” Nat says as you look up towards the kitchen and lock eyes with Kate, she shoots you a smile and a little wave.

A noticeable smirk comes across your face.

“What..? Oh my god did she just smile at you and you’re turning bright red in the cheeks?”

“Shhhh shut up Nat you’re speaking really loudly.”

“I’m sorry I’m just excited for you! I’ve noticed you’ve had a really hard time ever since my sister and I want you to be happy too y/n.”

“Ok fine, I’ll talk to her. But at my own pace Nat, so stop pushing okay? It may be tonight, it may be tomorrow. It could even be next week. I just want to play it cool and plus I’m a guest in Clint’s home I don’t want to intrude in a bad way by flirting with what is essentially his adoptive daughter.”

“Y/n, she’s 22. She is a grown-ass adult, don’t worry about that. Besides I told Clint and he thinks it’s a great idea.”

You lightly smack Natasha on the arm. “NAT! You told Clint!”

“C’mon he’s my best friend…my other best friend and he won’t tell anyone.”

“You better be right because I swear-”

“DINNERS READY!” Clint screams as you see the kids running inside.

Tonight Kate sat across from you at the table and Nat next to you. You were all enjoying your meal when suddenly you feel someone lightly kick you under the table. You look up to see Kate smiling at you. Before you knew it the two of you were playing footsies under the table like a couple of teenagers. You felt like this was a pretty clear signal but honestly, it’s kind of hard to tell. One minute she’s slightly flirty and the next she’s treating you like you have no chance in hell in making it out of the friend zone.

After dinner was over and you were cleaning up the dishes with Natasha, Kate came over to you and asked you to meet her on the back porch once you were all done cleaning.

You shot Nat a look when Kate left because you could feel her eyes burning holes into the back of your head. You finish drying the dishes and head out to the back porch. Not seeing her at first, Kate pops out from the side of the house and grabs your hand.

“I have something really special I want to show you,” she says with a big grin. “Follow me.”

– End of Pt. 2 –

[heytherejulietx]

movie night - stanley uris

↳ a/n - just a little drabble i typed out because i was bored and couldn’t stop thinking of fluffy fluffy stanley <3

↳ content warnings - swearing, aged up losers. that’s it this fic is just pure fluff lmao

↳ 1.2k word count

masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @whaddyam3an @justanotherkpopstanlol join my tag list

movie nights at bill’s house always went the same; richie would commentate through the whole movie, and would switch seats multiple times because he couldn’t sit still. bev would throw popcorn at richie when he wouldn’t shut up. eddie would insist to sit as far from richie as possible to avoid the popcorn war, which usually ended up with him sat beside bill or mike. and y/n would have to endure more or less than two hours sat beside stanley. it wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy sitting beside him - she loved being near him, but that was the problem. sat beside the boy you’re crushing on and having to resist looking at them was basically torture.

stan and y/n had always been close - they were best friends way before the losers club was even a thing, so between them they had years of friendship before the group. whatever they did, y/n and stan would always end up doing it together. at the fair? they’d go on the rides together. at the cinema? they’d sit next to each other. so at bills for movie night they shared the love seat for the movie.

richie’s night to pick was always the worst, because it guaranteed him to talk even more than usual since it was a movie he enjoyed. y/n couldn’t be mad that he spoke through the movie, she knew her friend well enough to know that he simply couldn’t help it. it just made it even harder to focus on the movie.

though it seemed almost impossible to focus on the movie anyways, because all y/n wanted to do was sleep. she had been staying up later than usual all week to study for a test, so the fact that she’d had five hours of sleep in two days accompanied with sitting on a very comfy sofa pressed against her crush best friend just guaranteed that she’d be fighting sleep the whole movie.

“gremlins!” richie stood in front of the tv set as he loudly announced his movie choice for the night, waving the vhs case in front of all the losers as he grinned.

“isn’t that a christmas movie?” eddie piped up, and richie rolled his eyes.

“yeah, tiny little monsters running around and terrorising everybody. how festive.”

“it’s set at christmas you fuckin’ moron.”

as richie and eddie started bickering y/n rolled her eyes and tucked her legs underneath her thighs to get more comfortable, her back pressed against the sofa cushions. the movie hadn’t even started and she could have fallen asleep. she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms and sighed, thankful that it was probably only two hours until she could be in bed asleep. provided richie and eddie didn’t argue for much longer.

“now’s the time i get to say ‘i told you so’, right?” stan’s voice made her look up as the loveseat dipped beside her and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“be my guest, asshole.” she mumbled with a playful punch to his arm and he chuckled.

stanley leaned back into the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him, and slung his arm around the back of the sofa right behind her. it was something he always had done so she never questioned it. he had a bowl of popcorn sat in his lap that bev was already reaching up to steal from her seat on the floor. y/n reached for a few pieces of popcorn herself as she leaned her head back against the sofa, turning her attention to the tv as richie had stopped bickering with eddie to load up the vhs tape.

the movie started playing and all that y/n could focus on was not falling asleep. for once she barely noticed richie’s commentary of the movie which progressed into bickering with eddie, she barely even noticed anything other than the way her eyelids had grown too heavy and the couch was so comfortable that she could drift off right there. her head was nodding as her eyes dropped shut, and in her half-coherent state she realised her head had fallen against something comfortable. sleepily she smiled slightly and leaned further into the soft material, and relaxed completely against what she was leaning against as she started drifting off to sleep.

she accidentally slept through the entire movie. when her eyelids fluttered open again the credits were rolling (she couldn’t make out the words because everything was a little blurry, but she could see the white lines scrolling against a black background and took an educated guess). she could hear richie arguing with eddie not surprisingly about one thing or another behind the sofa. glancing up she saw bev still sat on the floor, though ben sat beside her that time. bill was sat on the other sofa with mike at his side. where was stan?

y/n realised exactly where he was when she felt an arm tighten ever so subtly around her waist, and her eyes widened as her cheeks flushed pink when she figured out that she had been sleeping against stanley’s shoulder. she glanced down at herself and noticed that a blanket had been draped over her body, too, and couldn’t help but smile softly to herself. stan was comfortable. his sweater made his shoulder soft to lean against, and when she inhaled she could smell his comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla. she almost wanted to pretend like she hadn’t woken up to spend more time with stan like that. though y/n knew that she would have to be home soon, and she really had to get some proper sleep in her bed. so reluctantly y/n sat up from his shoulder with a yawn and stretched out a little. laying in such a weird poison left her neck feeling funny, and she winced as she tried to stretch it out.

“hey,” stan was smiling softly when she glanced up at him, a look that she couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind other than knowing that he was happy. “you fell asleep and i didn’t want to wake you. i know you haven’t really been sleeping well, and you looked so peaceful…” he trailed off with a sheepish smile, and y/n gave him a somewhat bashful one in return.

“thank you, i’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” she shook her head a little embarrassed, secretly still joyed over the soft moment.

before stan could respond richie had come back in front of the sofa and started complaining that y/n had missed the movie, though she wasn’t really listening. a small smile was still painted over her lips at the thought of how warm stan was and how nice it felt to be pressed against him.

the next time they had a movie night, stanley and y/n took the loveseat again. they watched labyrinth per bev’s request. y/n leaned against stan again with his arm around her waist, though that time she was fully awake.

[estrel]

Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that. 

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

//

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

//

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

//

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him. 

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?” 

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth. 

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation. 

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand. 

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.” 

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy. 

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is. 

—

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[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[endlessnightlock]

💖🤗🤯 from the fanfic writer emoji ask <3

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

💖 What made you start writing?

Oh, man, I always wanted to write. I was that kid who was always lost in her imagination.

In the first house next door to where we lived in the late 80s was a lady who lived next door to us named Mrs. Richards. She was like a second grandmother, and many times I would go to her house to visit, or sit on her front porch in nice weather when I wanted to take a break from playing outside. She was so sweet. I didn't know it at the time but she was a retired teacher.

I remember making caramel corn with Mrs. Richards once, and let me tell you, as someone who loves to cook, I was fascinated. My mom never made things like this (this was back in the diet-conscious, leotard-wearing aerobics era).

Back to the active imagination thing. Mrs. Richards had the coolest backyard ever, at least to me! There were all these largish shade trees and crabapple trees, ferns, and flowers, and I used to take my barbies over there and play out these crazy stories I made up about desert islands and family dramas about the girl no one understood (lol, that was supposed to be me).

I always lay in bed at night, playing out scenes in my head as a way to fall asleep. Or when I was bored in school, or somewhere I could just space out, that's what I did.

I was a huge bookworm, loved reading. When real life was very meh, I could disappear into books for days at a time. As for writing, there was a year or so where I started stories in notebooks, but I could never get it to go very far, and I didn't really have anyone I felt like I could talk to that might have helped me get farther. It made me feel like a failure, not finding a way to get that going because I wanted to do it so badly.

This was all in the very early days of the internet, mind you. I can't tell you how often I thought about that little weird girl's dream of writing stories. It always felt like this giant missed opportunity, like I should have taken writing classes and such in college but didn't because I was too afraid of failure.

Are we finding a similar thread of low self-confidence? because it was always there, breathing down my neck?

Anyway, flash forward to me decades later. In my 30's, livin' my life. Married, a stay-at-home mom with small kids, still feeling like a misfit (you never really stop feeling like that, no matter how old you get. You just accept it and move on. Being a misfit isn't a bad thing at all). And that nagging idea about writing was still there but felt even more impossible by then.

And then, in 2016 or 2017, I watched the Hunger Games. I wasn't reading so much then due to the old neurotypical burnout and untreated depression, but I really enjoyed the movies, so after that, I read the books. Katniss and Peeta literally stomped my heart out. Reread them right away but was still itching for more, so I started googling them, and thus, I discovered fanfiction.

Yes, I'm telling you that I was 37ish before I knew fanfiction was a thing. I'm that person that's always years late to any party. I devoured fanfiction for like a year and a half. Made a blog on Tumblr, got really invested in the community and made many friends. And eventually, I wrote and posted a fic. Then promptly felt like vomiting, I was so anxious and excited that I did the thing. Since then, I've been kind of unstoppable, lol, and I've made peace with that weird kid who felt like she wanted to write but couldn't.

Sorry for the long, word-vomity story. :)

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

If you want to write then write! Don’t worry too much about mistakes, just tag correctly anything that might be a trigger and you’re golden. 

One of the best things for me is running my writing through an app like Grammarly (that’s what I use but it’s expensive, like 12 a month. I’m sure there are better options out there) because sometimes my writing comes out very disjointed and those programs help me to get my sentences in a better order so the story flows better. They really help ramblers.

Write what you know. If you don’t have any small ideas (I don’t personally suggest starting big because if you’re like me it’s gets too overwhelming), try fictionalizing something that has happened to you in the past, just make it a flashier or funnier story and change the names to protect all innocent parties ;)>

Most of all, if I could get over myself and write, I think anyone with that same nagging, won’t leave you alone desire to do it can write too.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

I don’t tend to think of stories in genres, because that makes me feel blocked-in. I like to write a little bit of everything, I think, and I’ve probably covered most of the genres in my writing. Maybe hard-core, long angsty stories. I like to write a little angst 

like Scott Evil, just one calorie. ;)

Thank you for the ask @sanjarka <3.

[gettin-a-lil-hanse]

Deprived

Pairing: Mingi x San

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Implied Smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: San goes into heat while he and Mingi are at work, and Mingi tries his best.

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O, Grocery Store AU, Slight Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff 

A/N: This was a very self-indulgent fic and I'm kind of proud of it. If I had put it off any longer I would've convinced myself to not post it so here it goes. I won’t be tagging anyone in this one because I know some people don’t like this topic and I need to update my tag system ;-; As always, please let me know if I forgot to tag something.

AO3 Link

San sighed, watching as each open check stands line grew longer and longer. He was bagging as quickly as he could, his signature customer service smile plastered on his face as he greeted each customer. Something just felt off, and he really couldn’t place it. He figured maybe it was just another off day at work. It was getting pretty busy, and it wasn’t even noon. He scratched lightly at the scent blocker patch as he wondered whether or not there was a holiday or some event coming up.

“San? Did you hear me?” Seonghwa, the checker, raised a brow at him. “Can you go grab a bag of ice for the nice customer, please?”

San nodded, color creeping into his cheeks. “Yes, of course! Sorry…”

He ran to grab the ice, humming softly at the contrast of cold against his skin. It finally clicked as he carried the ice back to the check stand. He nearly ran back, smiling politely as he bagged the ice and placed it in the customer’s cart. Once Seonghwa was finished ringing him up, San hurriedly told him, “Hyung, I gotta go. I’ll be in the breakroom; you gotta call Mingi-”

“San, no, it’s not time for your break yet and it’s crazy busy-”

“Hyung tell him it’s an 8413 and tell him to hurry.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, and he nodded, jerking his head in the direction of the breakroom. “Go.”

San whispered a quick “thank you” as he nearly ran to the back and into the breakroom. As he sat down, he heard Seonghwa call over the intercom, “Mingi, 8413 in the breakroom. Mingi, 8413, breakroom.” San took deep breaths, mentally cursing himself for leaving his water bottle up at the check stand. He tried to focus on his breathing, he really did, but all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. After what seemed like half an hour (but was really no more than 5 minutes), he heard Mingi’s deep soothing voice in his ear. 

“Sannie, let me take you home. Seonghwa called Joong to clock you out, but we gotta go now baby. Can you stand up? Or is that too much?” 

San shook his head and stood from the chair slowly, checking the chair to make sure nothing was left behind before grabbing Mingi’s arm and letting him lead him through the store and out to their car. If they were getting weird looks, San wasn’t focused enough to notice anyway. He let Mingi guide him into the car and buckle him in, closing his eyes and resting his head back.

“Your heat wasn’t due for another 2 days, I wonder what triggered it to start early….” Mingi mumbled, kicking the AC on full blast. “No worries, we’ll get you home and get you comfortable okay?” 

San only nodded, head growing fuzzier by the second. He was quiet throughout the drive home. Mingi almost thought he was asleep until he heard a soft groan.

“Just hold on baby, we’re almost home. Just a few more minutes.”

Everything was beginning to be too much for San. His work uniform suddenly felt too rough, the seat belt too tight. There was too much touching him, all except for the one touch he really craved. His mind was clouded, and he could just barely register the car stopping. Then his alpha was finally touching him, lifting him from the vehicle and placing soft kisses on his head, but it wasn’t enough. He was in a losing battle against his omega—between succumbing to the fuzziness in his head and keeping his grip on reality. Subconsciously, he nosed roughly at the patch covering Mingi’s scent glands, and for a moment, the alpha didn’t know what he was getting at.

“Sannie, no, you can’t take that off baby.”

“Alpha, you’ll take care of me won’t you?”

Mingi bit his lip, wondering how to answer. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to stay with his omega and take care of him through his heat, pressing him down into the mattress and fucking him full of his pups. But Mingi had recently been promoted to assistant manager of his department, and how would it look if he left in the middle of his shift and didn’t return? Not just to his coworkers but to his higher-ups as well. Would they think him irresponsible and unfit to hold the position, demoting him back to just a clerk? Was it fair? Of course not, but the boost in his pay will help them save up to provide for the family they want to start. 

How was Mingi supposed to tell his barely-lucid omega that he was leaving him during his heat to go back to work? 

“Mingi?”

“You’ll be taken care of, my sweet omega, I promise.” 

Mingi carried him inside and straight to the nesting room, which San had been filling up in the last few days. He laid him gently in the middle of Mingi’s stolen possessions and watched him bury his face into one of his sweaters, desperate for his scent. The alpha left the room and quickly returned with an ice-cold water jug specifically for this occasion and towels. 

“Baby, can you roll over for me so I can lay this out?” Mingi asked sweetly, setting the jug down on the bedside table. San nodded and rolled onto his side, further surrounding himself in the alpha’s scent and getting lost in it. 

Mingi laid down three towels, knowing full well they’d probably be soaked through by the time he came back home anyway. He then set about removing the omega’s slick-soaked uniform carefully and setting them aside to be washed. Now fully naked, the omega looked up at his alpha through half-lidded eyes, clouded by lust as he waited for the alpha to come closer, but he never did. He whined in that tone that usually had Mingi rushing to please him, but nothing happened. Maybe, he wondered in his haze because he couldn’t smell it on him. If he could just get the patch off, his alpha would know just how much he needed him…

Mingi slapped a hand over his nose and mouth, eyes full of nothing but guilt as San only whined louder. He watched him turn onto his stomach and present his slicked-up entrance to the alpha, face resting on the pillow and watching him, waiting.

“I’m sorry baby….”

San lifted his head, eyes going wide. 

“I’ve left your toys and the lube in the top drawer—”

“Alpha…”

“—and there’s some painkillers and your heat suppressants in there—”

“Alpha!”

“—but you know you can only take one or the other, not both, okay? I’ll be back as soon as my shift is over—”

“Mingi!” San was crying now, crawling to the edge of the bed but not trusting himself to stand. His omega felt as if he were being rejected by its alpha. How could he leave when his omega needed him most? What had he done to deserve coming second to his job? He reached out in an attempt to grab Mingi, but the alpha stepped back, out of his reach. San could practically feel his omega’s heart break. 

The tiniest of voices in the back of San’s mind reasoned that he couldn’t just leave his work behind, that that’s not how the real world works. But that voice was drowned out in his heat-clouded mind as sobs bubbled from deep down. 

Mingi wanted to comfort him so badly, it physically pained him to stand his ground. He wondered if removing his own scent blocker to release calming pheromones would help the omega or only hurt him more. But he knew that if he wasn’t going to help the omega, standing and watching him cry would solve nothing either. So with one final whispered, “I’m sorry,” he left the room and their home. He fought his own wolf, every instinct telling him to go back and care for their omega. But he started the car and went back to work, knowing he’d have a lot to make up for when he came home again. He hoped that San could forgive him. 

San was a wreck. When Mingi left the room, his sobs had only grown louder, drowning out the sound of the car starting and leaving the driveway. His wolf had never felt rejection like this, not during a heat. All he could think about was how Mingi stepped away when he reached for him. Was he disgusted by him? Did he just not want him anymore? 

After what felt like hours, the heartbreak and the exhaustion from crying, coupled with the pain he felt in his core from not being filled with a knot, made him curl up, falling into a deep sleep.

—

Mingi couldn’t even focus. He was clearly distracted as he stacked apples on its stand; all of his coworkers could tell something was off when he came back. Working the rest of his shift felt like actual hell, dragging on without end. Honestly, he’d only had about three hours left in his shift when he came back to work, but it felt like a full 8 hours when all he could think about was how his omega was doing and how he could make it up to him. He decided he’d pick up some of his favorite foods on the way home, maybe even a few desserts.

A sense of calm washed over him in the midst of his thinking, and he was snapped out of his train of thought. Looking up, he noticed one of his coworkers—a very sweet omega—moving her scent blocker patch to her forearm. 

“Chungha-ssi, you’ll get in trouble….”

She just smiled and shook her head gently, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a comforting gesture.  

“All these people here, they won’t know it was me. Besides, you looked really stressed and I just wanted you to calm down a bit. You’re too in your head, I can tell.”

Mingi smiled at her as they both went back to stacking produce, mumbling a soft “thank you.” 

—

When his shift had finally ended, he was practically sprinting back to his car. He’d never driven so fast in his life. He did stop to grab the food for San, and he’d gotten flowers, cake, and ice cream from work. He knew he’d have to do some damage control back at home and hoped it wouldn’t be too bad. He just hoped San would forgive him. 

He parked in the driveway, quickly gathered all of the bags and flowers, and brought them inside. Immediately upon stepping through the threshold, the house smelled sour like rotten mangoes, and his heart sank. He dropped everything onto the kitchen counter and made his way to the room he’d left San in, his heart breaking at the sight of him curled up, face red with tear tracks staining his cheeks, body covered in sweat and dried-up slick. 

He walked to the bed and sat beside the sleeping omega, gently rubbing a hand over his shoulder before waking him. 

“Sannie? Wake up, baby, I brought you some food. You need to eat….”

San’s eyes cracked open, adjusting until he could make out Mingi’s face. Mingi expected the omega to be excited now that he was home or maybe to scream at him. What he hadn’t expected was for the omega to stare up at him with watery eyes, lip trembling. 

“Baby what’s wrong? No more crying, okay? I’m here now..”

“Do you not want me anymore?”

Mingi certainly hadn’t expected that. 

“What?”

San pushed himself up, putting a bit of distance between them. He looked around him, everywhere but at Mingi. 

“You left me. You wouldn’t even touch me and… you had this pitying look in your eyes.” 

San wiped away the fresh tears falling from his eyes, further curling in on himself. 

“Baby I just had to go—”

“And you smell like another omega. You left me to go help another omega?” 

San could barely keep himself together as he finally looked up at Mingi. Mingi’s heart broke, eyes wide as he wondered where he could’ve gotten that idea. 

“San, no, no of course I didn’t! Come here! Can I hold you, please?”

The omega hesitated before nodding, crawling into the alpha’s lap. Mingi wrapped him tight in his arms, rubbing his cheek into the top of his hair, feeling the omega scent him heavily, still sobbing into his shoulder.

“Oh, baby… one of our coworkers just hugged me earlier. I was so worried about you today, everyone could smell it off me from a mile away. She was just worried. I’m sorry, I should have showered as soon as I got back, I wasn’t thinking about anything but you.” 

Mingi’s hand gently guided San away from his shoulder, using his thumb to wipe away what few tears he could. 

“My poor baby… I am so sorry for leaving you all alone. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise. For now, how about we get you all cleaned up and fed, hmm? I got food from that Chinese food place that you like and I got you some sweets.” 

Gradually, as Mingi spoke softly, San’s tears slowed, and he leaned into his touch more and more. He nodded, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s neck. Mingi chuckled and wrapped his arms around the omega’s waist in turn, knowing that he wanted to be carried.

“My poor baby, you must be so tired,” Mingi cooed, standing them both up from the bed. “But you don’t have to worry about anything now that I’m home. I’ll take care of everything, and I already had tomorrow off anyway. I am all yours, okay?” 

San brushed his nose against the crook of his neck before resting his head there, finally relaxing for the first time that day. 

“All mine..”

[koutarouthighs]

『 soft cotton 』

S U M M A R Y ― sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of desire, and other times out of convenience, you end up wearing their clothes.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ tsukishima ⧾ iwaizumi ⧾ terushima  genre ➺ fluff rating ➺ t+  tags ➺ established relationship; clothes share/swap; nudity if you squint (bare thighs); party environment described but not in explicit detail; word count ➺ 2.8k request ➺ [YES/NO]      ↳ request status: OPEN

⤭ tsukishima is confused the first time he finds you in one of his shirts. before his brow wrinkles in that telltale way of frustration, you hold your hands up in surrender and explain that while you were helping his mother in the kitchen, you spilled soy sauce on your white top and she offered to clean it for you while dinner was in the oven. ⤭ after that, you don’t end up giving him that shirt back. it’s an old one, that doesn’t have much sentimental value, but there’s something jarring about tsukki seeing you in his clothes; an out of body experience, almost. he doesn’t understand why anyone else would want to wear anyone else’s things - isn’t that why you buy your own clothes? ⤭ and he has to ask the other guys about it. why does she wear my shirt to bed? why doesn’t she just give it back? and boy, do they have a field day with him. he can be so dense sometimes. doesn’t he see? you wearing that shirt is like you carrying a piece of him with you, even when you’re far away.  ⤭ his clothes engulf you, absolutely dwarfing your frame due to the height difference between you. tsukki has always thought of you as tiny, not fragile, but now, seeing you swimming in the fabric that makes up his ratty old tee, he thinks he has begun to understand why you like to wear this shirt over any of your more expensive, more fashionable ones. ⤭ he might be an asshole about it, but tsukki finds ways to gift you more of his clothes indirectly. he accidentally spills soda on your shirt one night when you’re staying in, watching a movie and eating pizza. another day he grabs at the hem of your shirt when you’re walking away and tears a hole in it. somehow, you still haven’t caught on, but he doesn’t ask you for the shirts back anymore. in fact, when you start to return them, he gets almost as irritated as he did when you had to ask for the first one out of pure necessity.

more below the cut ↴

“i’m sorry, kei,” you brush the fabric free of wrinkles as it settles at your mid thigh, covering the shorts that are currently adorning your lower half. you slowly look up at him, a warmth on your cheeks that signals your shyness, “i’ll bring back this one with the others next time i see you, okay?”

a scoff leaves his lips and he’s tugging at your wrist, pulling you forward on the couch until you’re tumbling down to meet him. your knees settle on either side of his waist and he watches as the fabric of the shirt pools around your thighs, “don’t worry about it. your washer makes them smell like old lady anyway. i don’t want them back.”

the way you tilt your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow and dropping your lower lip in confusion never ceases to amuse him. tsukishima reaches up and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, inhibiting your speech even as you ask, “i-i can wash them over here, if you want, kei.”

he’s shaking his head again, snagging at you until you’re flush with his chest, your face tucked against his neck. it’s not necessarily odd behavior for him to want you so close, however it is strange that he’s not asking for his clothes back. he used to put up so much harder of a fight.

“nah, they were shitty shirts anyway,” he sloughs off the string of words like they were meaningless, however you know the weight they hold. you also know better than to tease him too far, rather to take the prize you’ve silently won through heckling and hard work. the shirt on your shoulders feels warmer, somehow, with the knowledge that you have his blessing to keep it as if it were a gift from him in the first place.

your hands run up the length of his shoulders until you are hooked around him entirely, clinging to his lanky body like a koala. he smells so good, especially after a shower and a shave, which you suspect he’s done earlier today based on the scent of his aftershave still lingering on his neck. you nuzzle your nose further against his jugular, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds the blood in his veins. a low hum escapes your lips without your permission, but tsukishima must not mind your slip of the tongue, but instead is encouraged by it, sneaking his chilly fingertips underneath the hem of the familiar item of clothing until he finds your ribs.

he’s practically lulled you to sleep with the ministrations of his fingerprints mapping out each of your ribs, in tandem with the warmth he provides and the skin-on-skin contact you’ve beseeched with your own hands. your eyelids cannot stay pried open any longer, and so you allow them to shut. somewhere between now and then, tsukki drags a blanket over your shoulders, angling his body to be in a more comfortable position without jostling you too much to the point you’re far too awake to fall back asleep.

just before your mind is consumed by that dark realm of slumber, you hear a low murmur in your ear, “they looked better on you anyway.”

⤭ iwaizumi would not admit it in the beginning of your relationship, but there was something about seeing you in his clothes, namely a t-shirt with his old high school jersey number on it, that just made him feel a certain way that he could not explain. ⤭ it starts with you forgetting to wear a jacket on a date one night, but you don’t ask. iwaizumi sees you shivering and wordlessly removes the bomber jacket from around his shoulders and places it on your own, waiting until you’ve slipped your hands into the sleeves before he grabs for your hand again, interlocking your fingers at the knuckles.  ⤭ after that, you start to become more comfortable asking him for his hoodies and even though he gives you a bit of a frustrated comment after you accidentally take one home, when you stop asking for his jackets, he gets confused and concerned.  ⤭ with iwaizumi’s job, he gets a lot of free merchandise from the team(s) he works with. and by proxy, you get a lot of t-shirts and hoodies and other items passed down to you because he would accumulate too many things otherwise.  ⤭ you refuse to wear anything the first time, though. because without iwa wearing it around the house at least once, it won’t smell like him. he thought it was weird at first, but eventually you started noticing more clothes piling in on your side of the dresser that you’d seen him wearing a few times. and then, when he sees you step out of the bathroom after your shower with that team japan long sleeve shirt on, if you catch him quickly enough, you’ll notice a small, fleeting smile on his lips.

﹢

“hajime?” your call comes from the kitchen, and iwaizumi can hardly hear you from his place in the bathroom, showering after a long saturday of practice games. he rubs the towel against the top of his head, drying his hair before responding, “yeah, just a minute, babe!”

when he steps into the kitchen, you take him by surprise. you always do, even now, years after your first date. settled on your shoulders is an old seijoh promotional t-shirt he remembers having to wear to a fundraiser. but the seafoam green fabric settles against the tops of your thighs, exposing the remainder of your legs to the chilly breeze coming through the apartment windows. you always crack the windows when you’re cooking or baking; something iwaizumi noticed when you first moved in.

“iwa-chan?”

iwaizumi has to blink once, so harshly that he sees stars on the backs of his lids, before he can focus on you. he tilts his head and licks his lips, “yeah, sorry. what did you say?”

that laugh that rings in his dreams floats across the space between the two of you, and he fights a smile so he doesn’t look like a dope while you’re trying to ask him a question. he steps forward on the guise of hearing you more clearly, and then reaches out to push your hair behind your ear, his fingers itching to brush against the stitches of the fabric holding the shirt together on your pretty frame.

“i asked if you wanted the spicy steak tonight, or if you wanted me to reign in the heat,” your voice comes easy, simple and soft, and iwaizumi catches himself turning gentle at the sound of you. your palms abandon the cookware for a moment to extend towards his body, slipping beneath his top to rests on his hips. your thumbs brush over the warm skin, still slightly reddened from his time in the shower.

he’s so lost in the primal, territorial sensation he gets that starts as a prickling in the base of his neck, seeping down his spine and curling around every bone in his body. he wants to kiss you, to show you how he feels rather than telling you, and so he does. 

iwaizumi has never been one to deny how he feels.

your breath is stolen from your lungs when he lurches forward to capture your mouth with his own. his palms are rough as they search your torso for somewhere to land, settling on your shoulders so he can keep your upper body pinned to him. you release a small squeaking sound from the back of your throat, but he’s already swallowed it before you can feel self-conscious. 

“haji,” you gasp when you feel his fingertips dig into the muscle of your shoulders, and a laugh follows suit when his lips withdraw from yours and you can see the intensity in his gaze, “wh-what’s gotten into you?”

he’s not really sure, if he were to be honest with you. maybe it’s the nostalgia of the color fabric of the tee that you’re wearing. maybe it’s the way he wishes that he’d continued to play volleyball in a more direct way. maybe it’s the way the shirt falls just far enough to keep you from exposing anything too tantalizing.

or maybe...

“it’s just you,” he answers, pulling you by the thighs so he can pick you up and deposit you on the counter top. your legs sashay, ankles brushing his legs, and you can’t help yourself from twirling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. iwaizumi takes a deep breath before repeating himself, as if saying the phrase again might solidify the statement, but this time he adds: “it’s just you, in my shirt. you’re absolutely beautiful.”

your whole body burns at the compliment, and you bashfully blink downward, but iwaizumi is quick to lean in for another kiss. before too long, he’s got you drowning in his affections, his palms beneath your shirt to map out your skin, and the dinner you were previously preparing has been completely forgotten.

“iwa,” you murmur between the clacking sounds your teeth are making as they collide, “d-dinner, what...”

you feel his chest reverberate with a growl and then his mouth is on your neck and his fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt, “forget dinner.” his voice is rough and his touch is gentle, “we’ll just order out tonight.”

⤭ terushima is the one to ask you if you want to wear his clothes from the very beginning. he loves seeing you wearing his flannels and tees and hoodies. he always tries to find one that pairs well with your outfit so that way he can reason you into wearing his clothes whenever you go out.  ⤭ if he comes home to see you curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, just absolutely engulfed in the warm fabric, it makes his whole body tingle. he goes and changes after work and will definitely slip underneath the blanket you’re hidden under to wrap his arms and legs around you. ⤭ when he asks you for clothing advice, at first you wonder if it’s because he’s trying to change up his look. but, after a few strangely specific questions, you finally realize that he’s trying to tailor his wardrobe to be something that you could always find easy to wear. ⤭ the desire to see you in his clothes is partially from being territorial, but mostly because he just thinks you look hot as hell when you’re wearing his clothes. you always manage to make his clothes look ten thousand times better, mainly because it’s you wearing them. it never fails, he will always make a comment about how good you look wearing just his big tee to bed, even if your hair is all mussed and your face is still shiny from your skincare. ⤭ sometimes you’ll catch him stealing your clothes, too. you wear big tee shirts that are comfortable, and sharing is caring! he loves to pick on you when he wears your clothes, pointing out the designs printed on the shirts and how adorable you are for wanting to wear such cute little things. 

﹢

“god, pretty girl,” his voice is rough as it runs ragged against your ears, his hands on your waist from behind, “you know how it makes me feel to see you in my clothes.”

and of course you do. yuuji is no quiet thing when it comes to how you make him feel. so, you lean into him, if only to egg him on until he’s begging you to head out of this little house party. his fingers slip into the back pockets of your jeans and you find yourself stumbling into his chest, palms fumbling over his torso to try and clutch at his shirt to steady yourself.

“teru,” you chide, pinching his cheek before leaning up to kiss him. you pull away before he’s gotten warmed up, leaving him following you by craning his neck. a chuckle escapes your lips and you press your index finger against his pursed mouth, “we came here to celebrate kiyoko and tanaka. can you keep your hands to yourself for just a few more hours?”

“baby,” he’s whining in your ear now, all needy with his lips pouted and his irises widening, “you can’t be serious! you know that’s my favorite shirt to see you in! i think you did this on purpose!”

his fingers tug on the material of the flannel that’s draped over your shoulders, pooling around your hips and framing your body just perfectly. you watch as his irises struggle to focus, pupils dilating as he looks down at you. his mouth twitches in expectant words, but he’s interrupted by someone else who steals your attention.

while you’re busy talking to one of your old friends from high school, terushima is given the opportunity to take in your appearance for the first time since he met you at the party earlier, and the sight of you engulfed in his flannel and a pair of his crazy socks that peek out from the cuffs of your jeans makes his chest constrict so much so that he grasps at his shirt with his fingertips, barely curling his digits around the fabric of his tee before he realizes what he’s doing.

a slow, gentle blinking of his lashes brings him back to earth, where he can stare at you some more, all unbeknownst to you. he doesn’t mind admitting to anyone who wants to know that he loves to watch you when you’re just existing. he likes to notice the little things about you, to catalog them in the back of his mind so he can remember them on days when you have to be apart for longer than he wants to be.

your attention is diverted when you feel his palms against your hips, his chest brushing your back as he leans forward to kiss your shoulder, “i’m gonna get a drink, yeah? you want anything?”

“water,” you nod, reaching back with one hand to run your fingers against his undercut, “thank you, teru.”

another kiss is deposited to your cheek before he unravels himself from you and heads towards the kitchen, hands shoved deeply into his pockets. and you tilt your head so you can take in a deep breath of the collar of the flannel that you’re wearing, and somehow it feels like you’re there with him despite the distance between you. 

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 4

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo

Masterlist

When you woke up your head was pounding. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed anyway.

“Hey Mia” you spoke as you knocked on her door “I need a favor.” 

She opened the door just enough for you to see her tired form, bedhead and all looking back at you. 

“It’s 9am on a Sunday what the hell y/n.” She opened the door the rest of the way and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?” 

You felt bad waking her up, but you needed to tell her what had happened. And you needed your car back, which was still parked at the club. 

“I’ll explain more on the way, but Baekhyun drove me home from work last night and I need you to take me to my car.” 

You saw your roommates eyes widen “He drove you home? Are you insane?” 

“Just let me explain everything, I promise it’s not as crazy as it sounds.” 

“Okay, let me get dressed though.” She looked at you skeptically, closing the door and meeting you in the living room soon after to get going.

“So he drove you home.” She stated simply, keeping her eyes on the road as she made her way through the streets towards your work. 

“I know it sounds bad but he saved my ass last night. I was so nervous about him possibly showing up that I let some assholes get me blackout drunk. When he showed up he took me into a room to sleep it off and drove me home.” 

“You got wasted at work? You know how dangerous that is.” She reprimanded you. 

“I know, I know. And I usually don’t, but these guys seemed nice and I was so nervous that I just kept taking the shots they bought me. The assholes had me in a VIP room for a while too, from what Baekhyun told me. I can’t remember any of it though, thank god. All I remember is laughing and having a good time and then waking up with my head on his lap.” 

“Baekhyun’s lap? How do you know he didn’t just make it all up to seem like some sort of hero?” 

“Yeah.. He usually always gets there early, like 7 or 8, and when I woke up it was past midnight. He told me I was asleep for a few hours.” 

“So he just sat and watched you sleep that whole time... that’s not weird at all.” 

“I told you it’s not like that! If it wasn’t for him I would’ve been all on my own last night. I don’t even wanna think about all the fucked up shit that could’ve happened to me in there if he hadn’t taken me somewhere safe to sleep it off.” 

Mia stayed quiet. She knew you were right, Baekhyun had actually helped you. 

“I can’t explain it but it’s different with him, he’s not like the other guys there at all.” 

“Y/n, do you like him?” 

Her question caught you off guard. You didn’t know what to say. Did you like Baekhyun? 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean do you like him as more than just a customer.” 

“Well...” There was a pause, and you knew she could tell what was going on in your head. 

As you were trying to form your thoughts, Mia was already pulling into the parking lot of your work. She parked next to you, but before unlocking the doors she looked over at you. 

“You know you can tell me anything. I’m not gonna judge you if you have a crush on your professor, even if I think it’s a really bad idea. You’re my best friend.” 

“I don’t know what I feel. He’s always so sweet to me that it’s hard not to like him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m pushing these feelings down but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.” 

She gave you a sympathetic look and you heard her car doors unlock. “Let’s get home, it’s too early to be thinking about this now anyway.” 

You got out and entered your own car, starting it and making your way back towards your shared home. When you got back you started making breakfast for the both of you, as both a thank you and I’m sorry for waking her up so early on a weekend. 

The two of you were in the middle of destroying some cinnamon rolls when she caught you off guard again. “Do you have a picture of Baekhyun? This whole time I’ve been  imagining him as a smelly neckbeard. He’s cuter than that, right?” She asked you, and you couldn’t help but crack up. 

“Yes” you laughed “he’s cute, really cute actually. Definitely the most attractive professor I’ve had in a while. Let me see if I can find something.” 

“Ooooo yes I wanna see.”

You logged into your universities website and started searching around, seeing if there were any photos of him there. To your dismay you couldn’t find anything on there, so your next guess was facebook. You typed in his full name, and what popped up was not what you had been expecting. 

There were several posts, all fairly old, and all pictures of him with his arm around a beautiful girl. His ex. 

Mia saw the change in your face and immediately snatched your phone out of your hand to see for herself. 

“What the fuck y/n...” She said as she stared at the phone, eyes wide. “THIS is him? This man right here.” She turned the phone around, pointing at him. 

“...Yeah. And I think that’s his ex in the picture too.” 

“Fuck the ex y/n this man is fucking beautiful... no wonder you like him. I would too. I’m sure half the girls in your class would love to hop on that.” 

You took your phone back, looking intently at the image on the screen. 

“She’s pretty.” 

“Who? His ex? Of course she is, look at him!” You just kept staring at the picture of the two of them together, feeling how it made your stomach twist up in discomfort. “Damn you do like him if you’re that stressed over one picture with his ex.” 

You knew she was just teasing, but she was still right. 

“Shut up, I just haven’t seen her before. I knew about her but seeing a picture of them together feels different.” 

“Y/n you have the fattest crush on this guy come on just admit it.” 

“It’s not a crush! I just think he’s an interesting person, and he’s attractive, and he likes me, soo..” 

“So what? Are you gonna try to fuck your professor?” 

“MIA” You shouted, and grabbed a pillow to hit her with. 

“Come on if I had a professor that hot I would too! And you already know he’s into you too.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

“He’s my professor, that’s the problem.” You sighed. “And my customer. Starting anything with him is a bad idea.” 

“It’s definitely a bad idea, but it could be really fun.” 

“An hour ago you thought I was crazy for letting him drive me home and now you’re telling me I should sleep with my professor just cause he’s hot?!” 

“Well I didn’t know what he looked like then! You should’ve at least told me he was cute.” 

“You’re so shallow!” 

“I’m not shallow! Y/n you need some spice in your life, maybe he could be good for you. And he’s rich.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, before asking you, “What car does he drive?” 

“An Audi... we still don’t know if he is though! He’s still just a professor, remember?” 

“You should try to find out how he has all this money, what if he’s secretly a mafia boss or something.” 

You only rolled your eyes. Sweet, shy little Baekhyun, a mafia boss? It was laughable. He was way too nice. 

“If he is rich, I don’t know how. Maybe he’s just a trust fund baby or something.” 

“Yeah maybe, but you’re gonna find out! Did he pay you last night?” 

That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you assumed your money bag was empty when you got home since you hadn’t given any dances but you hadn’t looked inside of it either. “I don’t know... let me check.” 

You got up and went to your room, returning with the bag. You sat back down in the living room with Mia and dramatically unzipped it, before holding it upside down and shaking it. Both you and Mia gasped at what fell out. Hundred after hundred fell until your living room couch was decorated with hundred dollar notes. 

“What the fuck...” You heard Mia whisper, obviously just as shocked as you. 

You gathered the money and counted the bills. Over two thousand dollars had been in that bag. You looked at your friend in disbelief. “He must’ve paid me for every hour I was asleep...” 

“Holy shit” 

“I have to give it back, this is too much.” You started shoving the money back into the bag, but Mia grabbed your wrist, stopping you. 

“Are you crazy? He gave you the money for a reason! You’re basically set for the rest of the semester now.” She was looking you in the eyes intently now, not letting you ignore her. 

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t even give him a dance or anything I was literally just asleep and then cried a lot, he shouldn’t have paid me at all.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with it but I’d keep it if I were you. You’ll probably just hurt his feelings trying to give it back.” 

“I don’t care. I’m giving it back. Especially if he is just a professor I don’t want him spending any more money on me.” 

“It’s up to you...” She looked skeptical. You knew she wanted you to keep the money so she could reap some of the benefits as well, although she would’ve never admitted to it. Deep down you just couldn’t help but worry that Baekhyun couldn’t afford to give you that much. You had to at least try to give it back. 

The rest of Sunday went by in a blur of netflix movies and youtube videos. Sundays were your lazy days, a sacred tradition you were dedicated to keep. You knew however that when Monday rolled around, you were going to have to try to give Baekhyun his money back. You weren’t sure what that would look like, but for now the plan was to just corner him after class and tell him he needed it more than you did. Hopefully, he would accept it and that would be the end of it. 

~

Class on Monday was even more confusing than the previous days. You felt like you understood less with each passing class period, not more. The concepts he talked about only got more and more abstract, to the point where you had little clue what was going on at all. 

You were anxious about class ending as well, since you were going to have to face him to try to return his money. 

Eventually the lecture ended, and today you had to wait for several other students to talk to him first before he could get to you. They all had questions about their essays, the essay you had yet to even start. 

You knew Baekhyun saw you waiting and purposefully made you go last, although this time you were grateful. 

“Do you need help with you essay too?” He asked once he was done talking to the last student. You shook your head. 

You glanced towards the door, making sure the last student was out of the room before before pulling out the stack of cash that had been in your bag Sunday morning. “I can’t accept this.” You said, placing it on his desk. 

Baekhyun looked surprised, however he still wasn’t going to make this easy for you. 

“Why not?” He asked simply, looking genuinely confused. 

“I have plenty of money already, from you. I didn’t even give you a dance or anything and I know you don’t make THAT much as a professor and I just-”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n. Just keep it. I promise I’ll be just fine without it.” 

“No. You need it more than I do, I already have enough to keep me going for a while and this was too much, I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.” 

“Y/n. Please. Just take it.” The look on his face was tired. You could tell he was telling the truth, he wanted you to have it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty, and you weren’t taking no for an answer. 

“You’re a college professor, not some hotshot CEO, I know you don’t have this kind of money Baekhyun. I’m not keeping it.” You said, crossing your arms. 

Baekhyun just sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but also somehow.. sad? 

“I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I’m not taking it back.” He said staring down at the wad of cash. Obviously he wasn’t taking no for an answer either.

“Baekhyun pleaaase” You looked at him again, giving him your best puppy eyes but he wasn’t having it. His face remained stoic, the only visible emotion was a twinge of what looked like sadness. 

“Y/n...” He sighed again. “I’m going to my office now. You can come with me, or you can take your money and go home.” He said sternly.

You pouted, but picked the money back up, shoved it back in your pocket, and followed him anyway. Eventually he unlocked the door to what you assumed to be his office and he held the door for you to walk in. He sat down at his desk, and you sat across from him on the other side. As you looked around, you couldn’t help but smile at how Baekhyun the office was. The space was very cozy, filled with little trinkets and lots of books, all of which you were sure would make absolutely no sense to you. Everything felt so much like him. He had pictures of him and his friends sprinkled throughout as well, and the room even smelled like his comforting scent. 

You took the wad of cash back out of your pocket and placed it on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge it. 

Once both of you were sitting down, an awkward silence filled the air. Baekhyun was sitting right across from you, but instead of the usual intense eye contact you’d grown accustomed to, he was staring solemnly down at his desk. 

He was the first one to break the silence. 

“My parents died in a freak accident last December.” He said it without looking up at you, eyes still fixated on his desk. “A semi hit them going 20 over. They both died on impact.” 

Your stomach lurched. “Baekhyun wh-”

“Between the two of them they had quite a bit of money. I inherited it. I could quit this job if I wanted to. I have more than I even know what to do with, so just keep the money, please.” 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” Your voice was barely loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Finally he looked up and you met his eyes. 

“There’s no way you could’ve. I understand why you probably thought what you did but I definitely don’t need it, so keep it.” 

“But-”

“If anything” he interrupted “I feel bad I couldn’t give you more. We were up there longer than what I paid you for but that’s all the cash I had on me and I didn’t wanna have to leave you alone to go to the ATM.” 

“Baekhyun, I...”

“You can go now, sorry if that was uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you before you insisted on giving the money back.” He said, scooting the cash back towards your end of the desk. His expression was once again blank, making it impossible for you to try to figure out what was going on in his head. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about your parents.” 

Although he had told you you could leave, you found yourself planted in the chair and against your better judgement, you stayed. Maybe it was the cozy feel of the room, or the comforting smell of old books and vanilla, but you didn’t want to leave yet. 

“Were you really close with them?”

He smiled at your question, and because you were still sitting in front of him, even though you didn’t have to be. 

“Yeah, they were amazing parents. They always supported the things I was passionate about. Lots of parents would get mad at their kid for studying something as useless as philosophy but they always had my back.” He sighed solemnly, the sadness making it’s way onto his face. “You never really learn to appreciate things until they’re taken from you. I should’ve visited them more often, told them I loved them more. Everything I have now is because of them.”

“I’m sure they were really proud of you.” 

“Yeah, luckily I was able to make the best out of my degree. Most people who study philosophy aren’t as lucky and end up doing something totally unrelated. I at least get to teach people about something I’m passionate about.”

“Is that why you keep working here even if you don’t need the money?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “ And I know my parents wouldn’t want me to quit just because of the money. It would also get awfully boring to just sit around at home all day and not work anyway. I like having somewhere to go and feel productive.” He paused for a second, eyes meeting yours again. “And if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t get to see you.” His face turned up into a smile with his last sentence. 

At first his words made you think he was just trying to find an excuse to hit on you, but his face told a different story. His smile was so gentle and welcoming, it didn’t feel like any kind of sexual advance, just his raw emotions. Emotions that he was willing to show you without any filter. Baekhyun had always been so open with his feelings with you, it made you feel even worse for how hesitant you were about your own.

You couldn’t help the pink tint growing on your cheeks at his statement. 

“You’re blushing.” He said, now grinning. 

“Shut up.” You tried to hide your face, but with him sitting directly across from you, staring intently there was nothing you could hide.

“You’re lucky I like you enough to let you talk to me like that, any other student would be in trouble.” 

“So you admit I get special treatment?” You asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms, one eyebrow raised at him. 

Before answering, Baekhyun leaned towards you, resting an elbow on the desk, halving the distance between the two of you. “Sweetheart, I’ve never even spoken to a student outside of campus. Special treatment is an understatement.” 

Your face turned an even deeper shade of red at his use of the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you as casually as one would ask about the weather. Your eyes widened, not at all expecting him to ask such a thing. 

For a moment you just stared at him in disbelief, hoping he’d say something else but his expression remained the same. Eventually you shook your head, but before he could ask you anything more you had your own question for him. 

“What happened with your ex?” 

Immediately his face fell into a deep frown. You’d caught him off guard again, and this time he didn’t quite know what to say. 

“Well...” He said, still pausing to think. “After I got the inheritance from my parents things just changed. All we did was fight about money. She didn’t even seem to care that my parents were dead. She just wanted access to the money. Eventually she realized I wasn’t going to give it to her and she left me.” 

“I’m so sorry, that’s awful.” 

“But that’s how I got to meet you.” He smiled, taking one of your hands in his. “I’m glad she left me when she did, and Chanyeol talked me into going to the club that night.” 

“Baekhyun...” You felt yourself getting scared again. The things he was telling you and the way he held your hand was beginning to feel too intimate, to a point where you were becoming anxious. You felt an unfamiliar sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach. 

“I remember when he pitched the idea to me, I called him a dumbass.” He laughed. “I really didn’t wanna go but he dragged me in there.” 

“Well I’m glad he did too.” You responded shyly, before you could think twice about your own words.  

Now it was Baekhyun's turn to blush. He was already shocked enough that you were willingly staying in his office, hearing you say something that flirty to him sent his mind into chaos. 

“Y/n...” He grabbed both of your hands now, looking into your eyes with that familiar intensity. “Do you.. like me? Not as a customer or a professor, but as a man?” 

He had been wanting to ask you since Saturday night, but couldn’t find the courage. He knew how terrible of an idea it was to be having this conversation with one of his students, but when it came to you all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. He had stayed up all night torturing himself with the thought. He needed to know. 

But you could only stare back wordlessly. Not because you didn’t want to tell him no, but because you couldn’t deny to yourself that you did like him. You just couldn’t get the words out. It was one thing to feel something deep inside your heart. It was another to be able to say it out loud.

Baekhyun quickly noticed your discomfort and withdrew his hands. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. But you know how I feel about you. I just need to know. Whatever your answer is, whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll accept it. If you want me to leave you be, just tell me and we can act like we never knew each other before last Monday.” 

But you didn’t want that, not at all. Your feelings for him had only grown and you couldn’t see yourself ever going back to only seeing him as your professor. It was too late for that now that you knew what his arms felt like wrapped around you. 

“I know I don’t want that.” You said so quietly, it was almost inaudible. But Baekhyun still heard you.

His eyes widened in surprise, but his smile found its way back into his face as well. “I really hoped you wouldn’t choose that. But whatever you do decide, will be fine by me.” 

“Okay.” You spoke, as you got up out of your chair. “I should go. Thank you for explaining everything.” 

“Don’t forget this” he said, holding the wad of cash. You sighed, and took it from him, shoving it back in your pocket “and thank you for listening.” 

Baekhyun waved you goodbye as you exited his office, shooting you another gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but return. As you walked back home you felt that same unfamiliar feeling still blooming in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was unmistakable. This is what people were talking about, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone you liked. You’d felt it before with past flings and crushes, but never as much as now. 

And the more you let yourself think about it, the clearer it became to you. You were becoming just as fucked for him as he was for you. 

Next Chapter

[interrogatethecat]

this road is long but I’ll travel it with you word count: 1.1k I’m a little late, but happy six months to The Scene. I’m still processing. holy shit. it’s actually cannon. anyway, the rest is with the tag list under the cut or on ao3.

The thing about recovery is that it’s hard. It’s long. It’s not automatic. It’s messy. Large, dark shadows send Dean reaching for an angel blade or pushing Cas behind him. Sometimes, when Cas smiles wide and gummy, he forgets how to breathe and he’s thrown back to when it happened. When he’s choking on words said almost too late, Cas grabs his hand and tells him, “I’m right here, Dean. I’m not going anywhere.” And Cas doesn’t. He stays, and thank god he stays. Dean doesn’t think he could see him leave again. He knows Cas doesn’t want to leave again. Cas has told him that, again and again. He’s told Dean that sometimes the shadows scare him, too. Sometimes Cas wakes up in the middle of the night and Dean holds him while Cas remembers that it was just a nightmare. He made the deal of his own volition, but the thought of leaving again haunts him. It haunts both of them. But the thing is, they have each other. They’re so close to everything Dean— everything they have ever wanted. They’re together, they’re happy. Dean just wishes that they could recover, instead of waiting with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. Because good things do happen, and Dean knows that now. They do, they do, they do. He knows it, but just can’t believe it. Maybe that’s why when he wakes up to an empty bed, his first thought is panic. The tan blankets of the bed have been thrown over him and he’s sunken into the memory foam. It’s pure bliss, at least until he extends a hand to wrap around Cas and is met with emptiness. His side of the bed is empty. Cas was right here when they fell asleep, his arm had been thrown across Dean’s waist and his head buried in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean had had an arm around him, too, and been able to feel his steady breaths as his chest rose and fell levelly. There’s a strong sense of dread rising in Dean. He can’t breathe, he can barely think, because Cas was here and now he’s not. He remembers last night. It had been nice. More than nice. Just the two of them, no monsters— physical or otherwise. They curled up on the couch and watched one of Cas’ weird bee documentaries. Half asleep, they lugged themselves back to their room and crawled into bed. When the lights were out, Dean had pulled Cas closer. “Love you,” he whispered. He could feel Cas’ smile against his chest. “I love you, too.” Soon enough they had drifted off and now Cas is gone and Dean has to find him. Dean stumbles urgently out of bed and towards the open door. Heart thudding painfully, he hurries down the hallway. There’s the muffled click of a mug being put down in the kitchen. Barely thinking, Dean bursts into there, and— Cas’ hands are wrapped around a steaming mug embellished with gold bees. His hair sticks up six ways to Sunday, and his eyes are tired and the shade of blue they get when he’s thinking. They flick up to meet Dean’s, concern bleeding into them. There’s no lurking shadow. No inky tendrils of nothing reaching out to drag him away. It’s just Cas. Just sleepy, coffee-addicted, bed-headed Cas.

Dean nearly sags in relief when he sees that Cas is fine. He’s fine.

“Dean?” Cas says

“I’m fine,” Dean says, even though he’s anything but.

“No, you’re not,” Cas says knowingly. He sees through Dean easily. “What was it?”

“Just… woke up, and—“ Dean doesn’t finish the sentence. The and you were gone echoes loudly in the quiet.

Cas stands, leaving his mug on the table, and moves forward to wrap his arms around Dean, tucking his face into Dean’s chest.

Dean practically melts at the contact.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, words muffled.

“It’s not your fault,” Dean tells him, and it’s not. None of this is Cas’ fault. Dean’s just… broken. Slow-mending.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cas says. “Today— today is six months.”

“Six months?” Dean repeats blankly. Then it hits him. “Oh.”

“Six months ago I left,” Cas says, and Dean realizes that he’s clinging to Dean as much as Dean is clinging to him. “I left, and I don’t regret saving you, I could never regret that, but—“

Dean holds him closer. “You didn’t leave, Cas.”

“I did,” Cas says.

“Well, you came back,” Dean says firmly. That’s the important part. That’s the part he cares about.

Cas opens his mouth to say something but Dean cuts him off.

“And you know what else this is six months since?” Even though he’s fucking traumatized by it, the memory still brings a faint smile to his face. “You told me you loved me. If you hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be here, right?”

Cas nods.

“Yeah, you ended up in the Empty for awhile—“ Dean’s voice wavers just a little, but he recovers and continues lightly,“but it’s also kinda our six month anniversary. So… happy six month anniversary, babe.”

That wins him a soft laugh from Cas. “I don’t think this is our anniversary, considering we didn’t actually get together until after you rescued me. Or it would be when we met for the first time, which was much longer than six months ago.”

“Okay, smartass. Just was trying to be a little romantic,” Dean grumbles good-naturedly.

“I appreciate it,” Cas says, overwhelmingly sincere.

They just stand there for a while, arms still around each other. Dean focuses on the pressure of Cas’ hands on his back, the tickle of his hair on the side of Dean’s face. Cas is here. This is real and Cas is here and he’s alive.

Dean pulls back a little to cup Cas’ cheek. Their eyes meet. “You okay?” Dean asks gently.

“No,” Cas says, “but I’m getting there.”

Dean nods and leans forward to press a kiss to his temple.

He gets it. They’re not okay. They haven’t been for a long time. They’re battered and bruised and broken. They fight shadows and wait for something to drag them apart. They’re damaged, in almost every way possible.

But they’re still standing. Piece by piece they’re putting themselves and each other back together. Slowly, slowly, but together. Salvaging what they can and reinventing what they can’t. Recovery is long and hard and painful, but they’re doing it.

“What do you think about breakfast? Pancakes?” Dean suggests.

Cas gives him one of his small smiles. “Whatever you want.”

“Then we’ll do pancakes,” Dean decides, “and bacon. Lots of bacon.”

Cas’ smile widens and he brushes a kiss against Dean’s lips. “I love you,” he says. This time, this I love you, it’s better than six months ago.

“I love you, too,” Dean says.

And yeah. Maybe they’re messed up, but they’ll figure it out, how they always do.

Together.

tag list: @ezikira @top13zepptraxx @destiel-is-canon-i-guess @fellshish @floral-cas @gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat @https-castiel @holmesemrys @lovingherwasgay @linaraiscorner @castielsbeeslippers

[elen-aranel]

Ok. Don’t worry. I just want to see if you could do one where Christopher Pike is taking care of his wife after she gets side effects from a shot she had to get.

As long as it’s not pushing you out of your comfort zone.

The weather is grey and cold and writing this has made me feel warm. Thank you so much for my first ever request @sitkafay I really hope you like it 💖

Side Effects May Include

Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: fluff, reader is sick WC: 1660 Tag list: @jusvibbbin (to be added to my Pike X Reader taglist let me know)

“It’s bad. Ensign Parsons almost died. Some humans are particularly susceptible, according to Phil.” Chris takes a bite of the pasta carbonara you synthesised for dinner. You thought your husband might need some comfort food – today had been tough.

The transporter’s bio filters hadn’t picked up the infection when the away team beamed back from the planet the Enterprise had been surveying a couple of days ago. So by the time the first person got sick, it had already infected almost all of exobiology and the beta-shift security team.

“They developed an antiviral and a vaccine, though, right?” You say, concerned, taking a sip of your synthesised white wine.

“Yes. Phil came up and administered the vaccine to the bridge crew already, and engineering are going to sickbay to get their doses overnight. Everyone else gets theirs tomorrow.” Chris sighs a little and you see the worry in his blue eyes. “It could have been a lot worse – it’s only as infectious as Earth’s flu, so locking down the ship has worked. Phil said it if had been as infectious as measles we could have been looking at multiple fatalities, even with the antiviral.” He sighs a little and you put your fork down and reach out for your husband’s hand.

“Too close for comfort,” you say, and he nods. You both take a moment, then he brightens up.

“You all right to work from ’home’ tomorrow?”

“I expect I’ll cope.” You grin, happy to see his dimpled smile in return.

*

It’s odd having to synthesise a mask to wear to go to sickbay. Environmental control has been set to filter the virus in the air, but the ship is a closed system and Chris – Captain Pike, you remind yourself; he may be your husband but you are on duty – has let Boyce take the lead. The CMO is not taking any chances.

You sit on a bio bed as a Nurse T’Hara scans you.

“I have confirmed you do not have any of the virus in your system. With your permission I will now administer the vaccine. You should have full immunity within eighteen hours, but prior to that you may experience some side effects as your immune system adjusts. We estimate the probability of this to be less than five percent based on the crew who have received this treatment so far.”

You nod, understanding. Chris didn’t have any side effects, so hopefully you won’t either.

She presses a hypo spray to your neck.

*

Back in your quarters you sit at Chris’s desk, PADD in hand. You look out at the stars going by at warp. In three days the ship is due to scan a nebula with some interesting subspace properties, and you are working on a proposal for the best way to scan it – routes round the nebula and sensor optimisation, as well as probes, possibly to collect more data and to take samples. You love when Enterprise has a spatial phenomenon to investigate – stars drew you to Starfleet in the first place, and you love being on the cutting edge of astrophysics. The proposal is almost done, and you’re due to send it to Spock by 12:00 after you reread it and cross check your supporting data.

But somehow it’s difficult to concentrate. Maybe it’s the way you can see the stars going by? Your office doesn’t have a window, and you don’t usually use this desk. Chris has so much paperwork to handle you understand that he can’t do it all in his ready room; you like that you get to spend time with him as he works. But you don’t often bring work back to your quarters, and if you do you usually sit on the sofa.

You get up and stretch, and walk across to the sofa. You feel like you do the day after you’ve had a particularly rough workout. But the ship went into lockdown before you and Maryam – Lieutenant Ahmed, your friend in security – could have your weekly sparring session yesterday. Weird.

You sit down, tucking your legs under you, and get back to your proposal. You manage to read and edit a couple more sections. There’s only double checking the referenced data to do now. You shake your head a little; you feel a bit spaced out. Not quite connected with your body.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“The current time is 09:55.”

You have time to take a little break. You put your PADD aside, and rub your eyes. You could just shut them for a few minutes – your head is aching a bit, but it’ll probably be fine in five minutes or so.

*

“Sweetheart?”

Someone wants something. But your head is aching and you’re so drowsy. If you ignore them they’ll go away.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

You blink, opening your eyes, squinting. Chris’s face is right in front of you, his blue eyes staring into yours, worried.

“’m fine,” you say. But your voice sounds a little rough. “What���re you doing here?”

“Spock was expecting you to send that proposal. When you didn’t we commed you but you didn’t reply.”

He reaches out a hand and holds the back of it against your forehead. It’s pleasantly cool and you lean into the touch, sighing a little as he flips his hand round and strokes your cheek.

“Sorry. I had a bit of a headache. Thought I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes. Don’t know what happened. What time is it now?”

“13:00. You’re a bit warm. how do you feel?”

“Not great. My head’s pounding, and if I’d known I’d fall asleep I’d have gone to bed.” You groan as you shift. “My muscles are all ache-y, and the sofa hasn’t helped.”

Chris presses a kiss to your forehead. “Sounds like you’re having a reaction to the vaccine. Sickbay reported that a few people had. Come on, let’s get you a little more comfortable.” He puts an arm round you and helps you stretch your legs out along the sofa. He grabs a couple of throw cushions and props them behind your back.

“Don’t you need to get back to the bridge?” As sick as you feel you know that Chris has to prioritise the ship; one of the things you love about him is his commitment to the people under his care.

“Number One has the conn. Actually I’d planned to get caught up on crew evals in the ready room while everything was quiet, but...” you see the love in his eyes as he stands. “You need me. Can’t neglect you when you feel like this.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glad that he’s staying, but still feeling the need to check. You close your eyes again, now feeling a bit cold.

Next thing you know Chris’s strong arm is around you, and there’s a delicious smell in front of your nose. You open your eyes – Chris must have dimmed the lights because you don’t need to squint anymore.

“Chicken soup. It’ll make you feel better.”

You take a small sip from the cup he’s holding in front of you. It’s the perfect temperature, hot but not too hot, and the savoury flavour bursts across your tongue, familiar somehow, and soothing. You hum in pleasure, and take another sip, bringing your hands up to hold the cup.

“Mom made the program after you said you liked it last time we visited. It’s the soup she put in a flask for us when we went for a ride on the last evening we were there. She said it won’t be as good as homemade, but she hoped you’d like it anyway. I’ve been keeping it to surprise you... now seemed like a good time.”

“Thank you,” you say, leaning back into him. You remember that ride – he had taken you to his favourite place for stargazing as a kid, and you had sat there looking at the Milky Way, the horses nearby, you and Chris snuggled under blankets, warm together in the cool desert night. You need to thank her, you think, when you feel better.

“Thought this was the best to get some food into you, get you hydrated.” He squeezes you and kisses your temple. “Would you like to go to bed?”

“You have reports to go through, right? Maybe I can sit with you, while you read them here?”

“We can do that,” he says, voice warm, and he helps you move up so he can sit next to you. He flips the throw from the back of the sofa down over you, then he pulls you against him, and you lean back. He puts an arm round you again, and holds his PADD in his other hand. You doze, feeling comforted.

*

“...should resolve by themselves? Thanks. Yeah. I’ll make sure. Let me know if you— All right. Pike out.”

“Hmm?”

“Phil. He wants me to keep you hydrated, but thinks you’ll feel better by the morning.”

You stretch against him. You’re already feeling a bit more yourself – your headache is easing, even though your muscles are still a bit sore.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Chris. You—you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. In sickness and in health, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m going to get you some water, then something to eat if you can manage it, then hot shower to soothe those muscles, then bed. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect. But—”

“Your proposal? Spock has it. He’s pleased, says your idea to use the probes is a good one.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” You swing your legs round, pulling away from him a little as you sit up, keeping the throw over your bottom half. You turn toward him, reaching out to touch his face. His mouth quirks into a smile.

“I’m not Captain for nothing, sweetheart.” He leans toward you and gives you a gentle kiss.

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"