#but i spent way too much time being like ‘damn can y’all take five steps without fighting???’

[mxtxfanatic]

Book of the Week: Thousand Autumns

Author: Meng Xi Shi

Genre: cultivation, ancient setting, danmei

Rating: T

My Synopsis: If you’re ready for some Dragonball Z-style shenanigans in the form of characters entering back-to-back battles, this is the book for you! When Shen Qiao, leader of the #1 Daoist sect, loses a duel and, with it, his memories, Yan Wushi, leader of a demonic sect, sees this as an opportunity to test the strength of Shen Qiao’s life philosophy. What happens when a rock meets a hard place? Find out as the two journey together to answer what really makes life worth living.

My Actual Review: I cannot stress this enough, that despite this story being marketed as a romance and romance technically existing within it, this is probably the least romantic danmei I’ve ever read. It’s not to say that the novel is bad or that the romance (when it does happen) is unbelievable, but the story focuses more on the competing life philosophies between the different characters—particularly but not limited to Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi—rather than building up a romance. Also, the constant duels and battles, cannot forget that these characters are ready to throw hands at literally any and every given moment. The main couple don’t even officially get together until the extras, if I understood the translation correctly, and Yan Wushi is an absolute rat bastard at times before then. However, as someone who reads books primarily for the romance, I was still satisfied with the story. Small note though: this story features an us vs. them, “foreign invader” type plot that provides a good chunk of the conflict in the book, so keep that in mind before reading.

As for the translation: I read the fan translation for this book, which was a conglomeration of different translations gathered from across the corners of the internet, some parts decent and most parts kinda terrible, hence my saying “if I understood,” above. I have not yet read the official, but I have high hopes for it seeing as it probably cannot be worse than a translation I feel was half mtl from different sources.

Translation: licensed in English by 7seas and completed

https://sevenseasentertainment.com/series/thousand-autumns-qian-qiu-novel/

[chanluster]

10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”

s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.

w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again

p l a y l i s t > > here!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3

t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan​ @minaamhh @leescrt

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“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.

“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face. 

You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”

“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”

You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”

“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”

You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”

Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.

“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”

Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.

Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation. 

Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy. 

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit. 

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.” 

He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”

You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”

That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?” 

Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?” 

Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”

“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.” 

You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”

When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.

Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs. 

Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.

It was partly you as well.

Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination. 

Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.

CHRIS THE PISS :

i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u 

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.

Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.

With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.

“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible. 

He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”

Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”

After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”

Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”

Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”

“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?” 

The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”

He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels. 

Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue. 

Chan himself used this system  — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.

The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.

“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”

“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”

You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”

“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head. 

“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.

The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”

“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”

Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.

There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”

You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”

Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.” 

Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”

The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”

Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”

Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”

“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”

You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”

A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”

“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”

“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!” 

The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”

“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”

This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”

A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”

“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”

Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.

Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.

One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.

This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?

Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?

Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”

The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”

“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”

It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”

You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”

Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”

“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”

The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face. 

What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?

“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”

Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”

You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”

A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”

The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names. 

Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.

“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”

The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”

Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”

When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.

“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”

Your mouth dropped.

Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration. 

It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you’re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”

He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”

Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.

“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”

“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”

You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched. 

You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.

The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.

Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.

Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.

Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.

The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.

You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.

The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.  

It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs. 

You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass. 

A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”

You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.

But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.

Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.

At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.

You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist. 

Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.

You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.

“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go. 

Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.

With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.

“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”

“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.

“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”

The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.

There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.

Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..

This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.

“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”

You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”

But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled. 

When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.

You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours. 

His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth. 

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not. 

The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of. 

He had all the time in the world for this.

The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust. 

You wanted this as much as he did. 

His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.

Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel. 

Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…

Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.

“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him. 

You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”

Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.

Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit. 

Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.

“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”

The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.

Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.

He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”

Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on. 

His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing. 

His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve. 

Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.

“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.

The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.

Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.

Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.

You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.

Just like your best friend promised.

“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you. 

In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs. 

The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.

“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”

His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more. 

“Good girl.”

And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.

You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.

The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious. 

A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation. 

Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.

And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.

“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”

Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation. 

This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.

He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth. 

Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin. 

Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”

Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.

Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”

The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”

But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest. 

His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”

Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.

His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.

Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants. 

“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.

You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes. 

He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers. 

Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big. 

“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him. 

“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost. 

Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.

He read your every plea. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.

Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.

“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron. 

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.

His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you. 

“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.

When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds. 

His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you. 

You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence. 

It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.  

Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe. 

“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”

His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.

Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were. 

You and Chan were the only noise in the room — however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter. 

At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.

An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.

Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.

You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”

Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?” 

Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”

His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”

Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”

You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”

Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”

You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”

With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms. 

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets. 

Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.

“Oh my God.”

Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.

Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before. 

Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.

You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.

There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension. 

Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.

CHRIS THE PISS: 

just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.

But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.

A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.

Again, the situation here was different.

So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation. 

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness. 

Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.

“Now I know you’re lying!”

Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”

“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”

You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant. 

It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”

“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”

You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.

“Shut up, Chan.”

“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”

“A Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”

That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”

You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”

Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”

His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”

The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.

He did change your life.

Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?

“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”

Hopefully tonight.

FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.

Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.

Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress. 

These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.

Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.

Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.

Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.

“Jisung!”

The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats. 

You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.

“Boo!”

A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”

“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”

“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”

“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”

“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began. 

Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.

“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”

If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”

Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future. 

Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.” 

The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”

You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.

Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.

The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.

The joy was not returned. 

“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over. 

He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances. 

Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”

You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”

“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”

He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”

Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”

You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.” 

Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”

“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank. 

You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”

He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”

“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?

Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”

You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”

“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”

Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.” 

You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?

Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”

He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more. 

“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.

After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”

“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”

“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?” 

Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”

He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.

Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.

Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”

Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”

He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”

You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.

Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”

You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful. 

He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.

“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”

He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.

“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”

A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.” 

You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”

“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”

“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

“You might have to put a hold to that.” 

“Fuck.”

Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”

Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.

 Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”

You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”

Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”

“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”

Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go. 

On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.

It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.

Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal. 

“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement. 

Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered. 

Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.

Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly. 

“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?” 

Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free. 

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams. 

“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”

Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.

A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.

You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.

Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.

Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat. 

“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”

You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.

When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”

Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.

Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.

The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing. 

Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable. 

After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”

Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.

“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”

You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”

Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches. 

“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table. 

You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.

And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to that party. 

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.

Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves. 

While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him. 

Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. 

You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.

And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.

“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”

“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied. 

He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”

You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.

“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”

The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.

His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication. 

You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon. 

Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back. 

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him. 

Then were you feeling miserable?

Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.

That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings. 

Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child. 

You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration. 

He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears. 

You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.” 

“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”

Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”

It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”

His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer. 

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.

“Oh my God!”

Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.

“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.

“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”

Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?” 

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.” 

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends? 

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again. 

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.” 

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms. 

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual. 

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?” 

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you. 

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand. 

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?” 

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.” 

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare. 

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!” 

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!” 

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you. 

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him. 

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin. 

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?” 

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear. 

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor. 

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face. 

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed. 

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!” 

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal. 

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud. 

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day. 

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his. 

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing. 

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability. 

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more. 

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire. 

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut. 

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago. 

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy. 

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem. 

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets. 

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it. 

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this. 

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers. 

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight. 

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world. 

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you. 

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely. 

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer. 

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets. 

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again? 

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness. 

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers. 

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration. 

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth. 

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked. 

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!” 

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips. 

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Thirty Five

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Warnings: Cursing, a lil fluff, a lil angst. Y’all know me. (Still 😅) Summary: My first couple of weeks had been spent getting myself reacquainted with the ship, the crew.

I glanced back as Pike, Una, and Spock stepped onto the turbolift. It was odd, remaining on the Bridge for away missions-- I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I was getting used to it. In the two months I’d been back on the Enterprise, I’d been on a single away mission. It had lasted a total of five minutes, and I’d translated one word.

My first couple of weeks had been spent getting myself reacquainted with the ship, the crew. There was a fair amount to adjust to-- Paledore was a lieutenant now, and he was training up an ensign the way I’d once trained him. He did have a couple of my notebooks, but not all of them. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t interesting days on the Enterprise, there were. But it felt like I was being treated with kiddie gloves. I wasn’t sure who by-- the Captain, or Una perhaps. Either way, I was getting a little frustrated. 

--

“May I?”

“Course,” I didn’t look away from my PADD and notebook as Una settled down beside me. She leaned over my work, but I didn’t hesitate in my writing as I might've before. 

“Tamarian,” She commented lightly, turning back to her food. I hummed in affirmation.

“Your food is stone cold now, isn’t it,” She tacked on. 

“Dunno. Haven’t checked.”

Una reached across, plucking one of the fries off of my plate and popping it into her mouth. 

“Freezing,” She confirmed. 

“Perfect.” 

Una was quiet beside me for a moment before she pulled the pen out of my hand. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my back-up. Una made a little scoffing noise that bordered on a laugh. 

“What is it?” She asked knowingly. I sighed, lowering my pen and looking at her. 

“You realize I’ve left this ship once since I’ve been stationed here?”

“Well we didn’t bring you aboard for you to go running off again.” 

“You know that that is not what I mean, Una,” I leaned back in my seat, glancing around the canteen, “When Thaleh was on the Bridge, she beamed down on away missions constantly. I beamed down on away missions more often than this when I was a lieutenant.” 

“Not every away mission requires a Communications officer.”

“Perhaps not,” I conceded, “But you’ve had to comm me three times to translate something. It would be easier for me to beam down with the team, or to beam down afterward. When I offered, I was told not to.” 

Una turned back to her food, taking a bite and mulling this over. I picked at my own, having no true appetite.

“If I’ve been brought back just to be benched, then I would’ve been better stationed on the Pinnacle,” I said softly; I hated saying it, but I hated how it felt even more. Una turned her head toward me without meeting my eye.

“... He may be more hesitant to bring you on missions now. You understand where he's coming from, don't you?”

“Of course I do,” I sighed softly, turning back to my food, “But if this is what my time on the Enterprise looks like going forward…” 

“Let me talk to him,” Una said decisively. I glanced at her, frowning.

“Shouldn’t I--?”

“I’ll take a first pass at it,” She offered, “If things still don’t change, we’ll bring in the big guns.”

“Who’s the big guns? Spock?” 

Una raised a sharp brow, and my head tipped forward in disbelief. 

“I’m the big guns?” I asked, stunned. 

Una rolled her eyes, straightening and nudging my food toward me. 

“Eat. No more Tamarian while I’m sitting here— I will confiscate that pen.” 

-- 

It started with small missions to minimally inhabited planets. There were moments when I could still see Pike’s hesitation, a small twist of his mouth that he was quick to shield as a cough or a clearing of his throat. I never raised the issue, badly as I would’ve liked to. He was trying. He was trying, and the missions were being operated cleanly. The shifts on the Bridge without an away mission were always a little different; I had always known Pike in a certain way as Captain, but seeing him with that ease in the chair, day in and day out, was new for me. 

--

“Why am I not surprised to see you down here?” 

I didn’t still in my movements right away, completing the combo set before raising my hands to brace the swinging bag. 

“Dunno,” I answered in a huff, a little out of breath from my drills, “What’s got you up?”

Christopher shrugged a little, setting his communicator and water bottle down on the bench, beside my things. 

“One of those nights.” 

I nodded a bit, sympathetic. I couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping his mind busy: our mission from that day, perhaps? But then, I hadn’t presumed to know what was on his mind for a long time. “Care to join me?” My brows raised in slight surprise at his offer; I watched as he took a couple of steps back toward the sparring mats. “...I don’t know, Captain,” I said lightly. I saw the slight and disappointed twist to his lips, the pause as he prepared to tell me, ‘some other time perhaps’, and I tacked on, “I’m not sure you could handle it.” 

I had to fight to tamp down a wicked smile as Christopher’s eyes narrowed at me, his head turning just a little bit, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. “Was that a challenge, Commander?” “Just don’t want you straining yourself, sir.” “Straining— that is a very pointed argument from someone that refuses to back it up.” I heaved a hefty sigh, taking a few steps toward him as he took up a fighting stance. “Well, if you insist—” I mirrored his pose. “Oh, insist?” “But you’re free to tap out at any time, Captain.” I felt a thrill run through me as Pike’s lips twisted into a smile; there was a glint in his eye that I hadn’t seen in a long time. “We’ll see who’s tapping out, Commander.”

-- “Where the hell did you learn the…” Pike trailed off, making the poking motion with his fore and middle finger. I laughed as I fought to catch my breath, sliding down the wall beside him. “Durling.” Christopher grunted, taking a swig from his water bottle before offering it to me. I took it with a mumble of thanks, drawing a long pull before passing it back. I was sweaty and sore, but I felt like I hadn’t smiled so much in a long time. Christopher and I had sparred for nearly an hour; it had felt like it used to, for the most part. We had trash-talked a fair amount, teased one another. But we didn’t know one another’s moves as we once had. We’d needed to find a new rhythm, and we’d damn near done it. I sighed softly, closing my eyes. I was tired now. A couple of hours before, I’d been certain that this would be a sleepless, frustrating night, but now? I wasn’t sure I could even lift myself off of the gym floor. “You’ve learned a few tricks,” Christopher muttered. I chuckled. “You’re one to talk. Almost took me out a few times yourself.” I was quiet for a few moments, focusing on my breathing. “...How are you?” I asked, “It’s weird, I feel like I see you all the time, but I never…” “I know what you mean,” Christopher murmured; I felt him turn his head to look at me, “And I’m… I’m alright, you know. It’s been quiet lately— the good kind of quiet.”  I nodded a little, smiling. His knee knocked mine gently. “What about you? How’s the Enterprise been treating you?” 

“It’s been better since you took the kid gloves off.” Christopher turned and ducked his head a little bit, pushing a sigh out through his nose, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. It was stunning to see him anything akin to bashful; even when he and I had been together, I had always been the one to shy away from things. “Listen,” He started quietly. “Chris,” I shook my head, smiling, “Don’t, s’okay. I...I get it. It was frustrating, but I get it.” Christopher glanced at me, his eyes a little soft and guarded. “It’s not… It’s not that I think you're…Incapable, or don't have expertise or skill—”  “I know.” “I wanted you to just settle back in—” “Christopher—” “It’s been different, the situations you have been in are different. The bridge you’ve been working on under Durling, it was—” “Different, I know!”  I couldn’t stop my amusement from seeping into my tone, “I’m not mad. It was just confusing for a bit. But… You’re not treating me like a piece of Andorian crystal anymore. So,” I shrugged a shoulder, smiling when Christopher huffed out a short laugh and closed his eyes, “So, you know, we’re fine.” “Are we?” “Are we what?” “Fine.” I was quiet for a moment, searching his face. “Course,” I murmured, “Why wouldn’t we be?” Chris nodded, “It’s just nice to hear.” My stomach fluttered with his admission. “...It’s nice to say,” I admitted in a mumble, turning to look back at the vacated mats. We were quiet for a few moments before Christopher patted my knee with a sigh of, “C’mon.” I could hardly focus on his standing, too set on the warmth from his touch, and the goosebumps that it had sent skittering up my thigh. I glanced up, taking hold of his hand when he offered it to me. I grunted as I reached my feet, huffing softly. “Thank you,” I sighed, turning to reach for my things, and trying not to reflect on the fact that neither Chris nor I let go of each other’s hands right away. The walk to the turbolift was pretty quiet; I tried not to reflect on the fact that we passed that supply closet; I’d thought about that supply closet a lot while I was away. I sighed, leaning back against the wall of the turbolift and shutting my eyes. I heard Christopher chuckle softly. “You look like you’re asleep on your feet.” “Feel it. You wore me out, Pike,” I admitted. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.” “I can take it. I can take it and like...Sleepwalk back to my room.” I opened my eyes as I felt the turbolift slow, the doors opening on my floor. “Night, Chris,” I sighed as I stepped off of the lift. “Night, sweetheart.” It was murmured behind me. I turned to look at him, brows raised in slight surprise, and he was offering me this gentle look from under his lashes as he leaned back against the wall of the lift. I grinned at him, and his smile widened as the lift doors slid shut. Those words would ring sweetly through my ears for the rest of the night; that smile on his face, that glint in his eye from the gym. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I woke up aching from the night’s workout, but I’d slept well. Chris was already on the Bridge when I reported for duty. I gave him a nod as I settled into my station, unable to help the small smile on my face. “Captain.” “Commander.” Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​  ; @tardis-23​  ; @paintballkid711​ ; @katrynec ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @hotchswifey​

[txdoroki]

bookshop

hey this is kinda just a silly thing i had an idea i liked for :P hope y’all like it!! <3

warnings: anGERING BCUZ OF HOW SLOW IT GOES

words: 3k

pairing: bakugou x reader

unedited!!

gn reader

desc: you work at a quaint book shop, and one morning meet an explosive college student. once again it’s so much better than how it sounds T-T i swear it’s so good bYE

no quirks

ik this seems a lot like the overused “meet your lover at a coffee shop” trope but i swear it isn’t like that I SWEAr

A/N: this was so fun to write but it is annoyingly slow </3 also in this bakugou is rich as fuck and for wHAT. he’s loaded as crap

i might make a part 2 but i’m not sure yet considering this was rlly tiring,, would y’all like that or would it be a waste? :/

HERE IT ISSSS @babymilkawa​ 

you groaned as your alarm went off way too early, the sun that shone through your curtains getting into your eyes. you rubbed at your eyes, trying to shake off the sleep that dazed your mind.

the weekend went by too fast, and you wished you could sleep for just another five minutes. you struggled to keep your eyes open, the comfort of your bed willing you to sleep. to skip work for the day.

 you were totally exhausted, having spent the weekend helping your co-worker, eijirou, unpack boxes at his apartment, on top of working on your classes. i mean, you loved to help people, but man, was it tiring.

after a few minutes of checking things on your phone, you sleepily walked to your bathroom and ran water over your face, hoping it’d help you wake up. you loved your job, you really did, but the hours? absolute hell. who the crap goes to a book shop at 7 in the morning? no clue.

you pulled one of your friend’s old sweatshirts over your head, taking a moment to fix your bedhead as well. you slipped on some sweatpants, and shrugged at yourself in your full-length mirror. you felt like crap, your entire body heavy and your blinks slow. it’s like your body was trying to put itself to sleep, even while standing.  

once you were happy with your appearance for the day, you texted eijirou to let him know you were ready. he usually picked you up drove you both to work, since you had the same shifts.

a few minutes later he knocked on your apartment door, and when you swung it open, he had his signature wide grin on his face. he was holding two coffees, and you couldn’t help but smile as well, your bad mood from lack of sleep disappearing. 

“hey eiji,” you smiled, taking one of the coffees from his hands and holding it close to your face, taking a deep breath of the homey scent. the smell made your stomach growl, and you both laughed at the sound.  

“hungry, eh? well, i mean i have a granola bar,” kirishima shuffled around in his bag, eventually pulling out two granola bars.

“of course you do,” you smiled, happily chomping the snack. he was the definition of the mom friend, and such a sweetheart.

after you talked with him for a few minutes, you both walked to his car and drove to the shop that was a mile or two away. 

you looked out of the window while he drove, and you both were sitting pretty much silently. you appreciated how you could just chill and appreciate each other’s company without communicating a bunch.

when you got there, there was a blonde guy standing in front of the doors.

“hey, bakubro, what’re you doing here?” kirishima and you walked up to him. when he turned to face you, you were confused as to why he looked so pissed off. he looked like he didn’t know how to smile.

“tch, i was going to look for a shitty book to buy, but no one was fucking here,”

“you know that we open at 7:15 right?” you smiled, 

“and it’s 7:16 right now, dumbass,” ‘bakubro’ glared at you, “you’re late,”

“by a min-” you started saying, but were interrupted by kirishima.

“you’re right, well you can come look inside now,” he took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door with it, stepping inside of the shop with you and the blonde following.

you took your place behind the counter as kirishima tidied up the shop. he straightened the books and fixed anything that was out of place, while you just stood behind the counter and watched the blonde.

it was like he was entrancing, his spiky blonde hair and his piercing red eyes glaring at the books in front of him.

“sir, do you need help finding what you’re looking for?” you smiled at him when you noticed he was in the shop for nearly half an hour already, staring at the lines and lines of books.

“tch no, i can find it myself,” he grumbled, not even looking your way.

you rolled your eyes and turned to eijirou when you overheard him chuckle. he was standing near gardening books section, flipping through one of the books.

“what is it?” you raised an eyebrow, tapping a made-up rhythm lightly in the wooden counter you were standing behind.

“bakugou, isn’t this the kind of cactus you tried to raise,” he turned the book towards the blonde.

“shut up, shitty hair. quit bringing that up,”

eijirou just smiled and shook his head, turning back towards the shelf and sliding it back to its place. 

you yawned, boredom filling the air as bakugou looked through the books and kirishima tended to the shelves.

you wished someone would come in soon, maybe one of your regulars or someone new. you weren’t a fan of there only being one customer in the store in the first place, but him being a bitch wasn’t much of a help either.

“have you seen that really nice green haired regular recently? i feel like he hasn’t came by in a while,” you yelled to kirishima.

“uhh, haha, no, i heard he um... moved?”

“moved?”

“yup,”

“why does it matter what happened to him, deku is a nerd anyways,” bakugou growled as he flipped through one of the many books he had in his arms.

you shrugged in his direction and walked to the back, hoping there’d be something to do that was helpful for the store. you felt like you were wasting time, but didn’t know what you should do. there were no customers, no spills, nothing out of order.

you decided to fix some of the directions, and chose to start on the paintings and vines that covered the wall. the store really was homey, you loved it. you could spend all day there, either as a customer or a worker.

it felt safe and sound, unlike most of the city that surrounded you. 

“hey, dingbat, come here,” bakugou was now standing next to the register, and you glared at him, the heaviness of anger starting to gather in your chest.

dingbat? the fuck???

“be nice to y/n, they’re chill,” kirishima swatted at the air, shaking his head.

“nope, anyways, i need to check out, so fucking come here,” 

“no, sir, you can choose to be nice and then talk to me,” you smiled at him and turned back to the decorations you were working on. sure you were a worker, but you weren’t going to help out a shithead.

“it’s your fucking job, come here,”

“y/n, i’m sorry, but do you mind checking him out? he’s got class soon,” kirishima smiled at you weakly, his stare basically a plead on its own.

you huffed and walked to the register, silently glaring as you handed bakugou the receipt and the two books he bought.

“took you long enough, damn,” 

“what is your damn problem?” you scowled, “i haven’t done shit to you and you’re being an asshole,”

“y/n, don’t-” kirishima held his hand out.

“quit being in the fucking way then, see you later, kirishima,” he grabbed the stuff from your hands and walked out of the store onto the sidewalk, the door slamming behind him.

your decorations that you were putting up fell down, and you sighed. you took a step back and pouted when you realized you’d have to start over.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i know he is really stres-”

“he doesn’t need your excuses, it’s fine, eiji,” you smiled and nodded at him. 

the rest of the day was spent with both of you cracking jokes at each other and tending to the customers. every now and then you’d rate their outfits once they left, and it was sort of entertaining to say the least. it was fun to see the little additions people would add to their outfits, not meant for others to specifically notice. like a chain on their pants, or a feather on their hat. 

all other people had entire backstories, ones you would never get the pleasure of knowing. this didn’t usually bother you, and it never really has before, but you couldn’t deny the curiosity that seemed to tear at you about bakugou’s.

his couldn’t seem to leave your mind. what was his childhood like? was he always like this? what set the way for his personality? what were his parents like? was he single..?

“i wonder if he’s single,” you muttered to yourself as you swept. your actions stopped for a moment, and you wanted to throw up. did you actually just say that out loud?

“what was that, y/n?” kirishima looked up from his phone, a confused smile on his face. you hoped he didn’t hear you. although he did

“oh nothing, sorry!” you smiled back at him, and went back to sweeping. you turned away from him, hoping the heat that covered your cheeks wasn’t visible.

“alright,” 

the rest of your day went by quickly, and by the time you got home, you were exhausted. you snuggled with one of your fluffiest pillows on your couch once you’d changed into your pjs, and you smiled. the smooth fabric of your couch felt calming to your sore joints, and it only added to your comfort. 

before you knew it, you had fell asleep, but a knock on your door shook you from your slumber.

“hey, y/n, do you mind if i come in real quick?” you heard the familiar voice of your coworker from outside of your door, and you yelled a sleepy ‘go ahead’ before closing your eyes again. 

you slowly opened your eyes when you heard a second pair of footsteps enter your apartment, and you were confused to see the blonde from earlier standing in your doorway.

“are you alright? it’s only six o’clock, and you were asleep?” eijirou walked over to you and sat next to you on your couch for a moment.

“yeah, sorry, i was just... just um sleepy,” you sat up and leaned into one of the arms of your couch for support, rubbing your eyes. you turned back towards the figure in your doorway, “what’s he doing here?”

“am i not allowed to tag along with my fucking friend?” bakugou growled, but neither one of you acknowledged him. 

“sorry, was just coming to get some sugar! i ran out, and we are gonna be making cookies! see ya later, y/n!” 

you waved as they both left your apartment, and easily went back to sleep. your dreams were nothing but blackness, and none were memorable when you woke up a few hours later.

over the next few weeks, you began to see bakugou more and more. he would come by the show every morning, dropping by to say hello to kirishima before he’d walk out of the door. you weren’t exactly sure why he’d come by every. single. day., sometimes he didn’t even buy something, only caring to say hi to eijirou.

you’d love to say that he went to see you, but you really doubted that was the case. i mean, he rarely ever said hello back whenever you’d greet him back, so it was implied he only cared for seeing kiri.

no matter what he’d say to you or rather what he didn’t say, he still occupied your mind constantly. you wondered about him a lot, not in a creepy way. you just really found him interesting... okay?????

after around three weeks after your first encounter with him, he greeted you back for the first time. 

“oh, hey, y/n, right?” he turned to you with a blank face, not very common since he seemed to always be scowling at whoever he was speaking with.

“yep, what do you want?” you nodded towards where bakugou was standing near you next to the baking books, and kirishima raised an eyebrow. 

“are you any good at cooking? i need to make cupcakes but kirishima here makes shit ones,” 

kirishima chuckled, “he isn’t wrong, go ahead, y/n,”

“um, yeah i like to bake, when are you free?” you tried to hide the blush that covered your face.

“a bit obsessed with me, are ya?” he smirked as you began shouting.

“huh?? am not, you’re the one who-”

“oi shut it, dingbat, i’ll come pick you up from this shit job how’s that work?”

kirishima just stood where he had been, staring at you both with wide eyes. he’d never seen bakugou offer to pick anyone up whatsoever before. especially not to spend time with them.

once he left, it was like time chose to go by slower than ever. you checked the clock that hung above the doorway ever so often, and would quietly groan at how much longer it’d be until you got to make those damned cupcakes.

you decided to keep yourself busy with cleaning up in the back of the store, restocking the shelves and tidying up the stacked up books that sat collecting dust.

“y/n,” kirishima called for you, his voice somewhat muffled by the shut door that separated you both.

you walked to him, and smiled at the man who was standing in the doorway. 

“quit staring and c’mon, we don’t have much time, dumbass,” he frowned and beckoned for you to come over, you hurried to grab your purse. 

“aren’t we driving kirishima too.?” you cocked your head when he began to take off out of the shop. he paused and rolled his eyes, shaking his head and continuing to walk across the street once more.

the drive to his apartment was filled with you talking about whatever and him finding various ways to insult it, although his gaze wasn’t filled with the same amount of sharpness as usual.

you decided not to say anything about it, not wanting it to cease. you were honestly enjoying yourself, even though he was being sort of a dick. it wasn’t exactly unlike him to be one, though.

after around ten minutes of the conversation flowing like water, he parked in front of a bougie looking tall apartment complex. just from looking outside, you could see the wall-length windows and the impressive chandeliers that hung inside the building. you felt small, your apartment certainly not comparable to this. 

he scoffed when he saw your wowed expression, and silently took your hand. this would’ve been romantic if he wasn’t using it to drag you inside. the pace he was leading you both at left you panting by the time you got to his door, and your arm was sore from how harshly he was pulling and swerving you around the hallways. 

when you took your first step into his apartment, your entire body began to feel light. his apartment didn’t match his firey personality whatsoever, and it was absolutely stunning. astonishing countertops and a double oven added to his impressively sized kitchen. sparkling crystal animals covered one of the shelves nearby the tv. just by looking at the entry way, you loved his apartment.

his apartment was flawless, and it didn’t even seem like an apartment. it had a generous amount of space, and you wondered how he could afford this as a college student. you decided to let the curiosity drop, it’d be rude to ask about his wealth anyways..

“y/n, quit staring at my shit and hurry the fuck over here,” bakugou grumbled, stirring you from your thoughts.

you nodded and walked over to him, smiling at the ingredients that littered his kitchen island. these were gonna be some good cupcakes.

“what fla-”

“funfetti, duh,” 

you chuckled, and examined the extra sprinkles that he had bought. they looked amazing. and expensive.

you both chatted as you started the cupcakes, since he was bossy and so were you, you decided that it’d be better to do separate jobs. he was in charge of making the cupcakes while you were “doing the shitty icing, better not fuck it up” in bakugou’s words.

you worked on the icing and tried to hold back your giggles at bakugou’s cursing when he realized he forgot to add the sugar.

“god fucking damnit now i have to redo these fucking cupcakes,” he groaned, pulling the now scrapped cupcake tray out of the oven with absolutely no care, shooting you a frown when you commented on how he was gonna burn himself if he kept being that reckless.

“shoulda paid attention,” you stuck your tongue out, a wide smile brightening up your face.

“fucking shut it, dingbat,”

“WHY WON’T YOU STOP CALLING ME DINGBAT,” you shouted, although still being careful to stir the icing at the correct pace. you weren’t about to mess up an easy job, hell no!

after a few hours of you both baking in harmony, you flopped down on his leather couch, resting one of your arms over your forehead as you stared up at the ceiling. 

“i have a baking night every week with kiri, if you wanna come,” bakugou came up next to you and muttered, and you weren’t sure if he even wanted you to. i mean, you barely could hear him. 

he handed you a rag to wipe your hands on, and sat down next to you.

“can i?” you widely smiled at him, hoping he still wanted you to. 

“why the fuck would i tell you about it if not,” he scoffed, and you giggled.

you shrugged, and around half an hour later he drove you home for the night. 

you had a tupperware of cupcakes resting on the counter next to your fridge when you went to bed that night, although the memories that came with them were seated next to your mind. the small chuckles you would manage to pull from him replaying in your mind as you stared happily at your ceiling. 

you sure were looking forward to the next weekend.

taglist: @todoroki-shoto-is-life @frxggie​ 

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I am not going to join your band” Part 3

AKA “I’ll only join your band if you promise not to kick me out if things don’t work out”

Me trying to make this have a happy ending: *jumping through hoops of my own design*

I wrote this ^^ before I wrote part 3 and boy was I right, it was complicated and I hope I did it justice, LMK what y’all think, I love you all asking for part 3 and giving me feedback. All the support means to much

Also peep the gif WITH Mitch I’m crying, they’re both smiling at y/n in the soundboard room

Word Count: 5.0k? | Warnings: angsty ASF, some crying, some yelling, more making out, even some mentions of smut (oh yeah we’re getting there - no actual sex though), swearing

I tried to make it FLUFF but there had to be drama :/ (I don’t like conflict but that’s like lowkey how stories work sadly)

Part 1 | Part 2

-

When Mitch pulled away from the hug, you felt yourself at a crossroads. You knew Mitch was right. While kissing Harry had been nice, you needed to think about why you were doing it and what it would mean for you and Harry.

You knew you were always going to love Mitch and you were working on separating the romantic feelings you had for him and the best friend feelings you had for him. But you weren’t sure if getting involved with Harry would help that process or just confuse it. That’s why you had to talk with Harry about this, where he stood exactly, and there wasn’t time, lunch was over.

Mitch stalked off ahead of you with a final: “Just...be careful.”

Moments after he disappeared through the recording door, Harry walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You were still standing in the middle of the hallway, your brain racing at everything Mitch had said and every moment you had spent with Harry in the past couple of weeks. You hadn’t really thought of Harry as being anything more than a friend. But there you two were, kissing in a storage closet five minutes ago.  

“We need to talk,” you both said simultaneously. But, just as you were about to speak again, a technician rushed up beside you two and started to talk rapidly to Harry, needing assistance on something that sounded important. You raised your brows when he looked at you, his silent question of whether he could leave, “Go, it can wait.”

In that moment, you felt your unimportance in that studio - no Harry or Mitch to turn to.

This had started as a tag along to spend time with your best friend, in hopes to not get left behind, then it had turned to a light torture of watching said best friend falling for a girl who wasn’t yourself, but somewhere amidst all of that was Harry, always giving you a reason to come back. If not for him, you probably would have stopped tagging along after the first day.

He was the one to tell you to come back a second day. He was the one retuning the piano so you had something to do. He was the one liking your tune and turning into a song for his album. He was the one asking you to join the band. But was he the one for you? And if he wasn’t, and you told him that, was that the end of your time at the studio?

God, you just wished you were able to know what he was thinking. What was the reason behind his kiss? Was it something meaningless or meaningful to him. Because you had realized you had wanted to join the band, not for Mitch, not for Harry, but for yourself and you didn’t want whatever had just happened between you and Harry to come between your chance.

You sat in one of the lounge rooms for the rest of the day, you didn’t feel like watching the band record or having Mitch next to you whispering side comments while you sat in boring technical meetings. You wanted to be alone. And alone you were, no one came to look for you until the end of the day. You sat on the floor of the room, legs crossed, your body still, but your mind alive with all of your thoughts.  

At around 8:30, it was Mitch who walked through the door and sighed at the sight of you. You had texted him where you were when he had asked a couple minutes ago. “Ready to go? Sarah’s coming with us, if you don’t mind,” he gruffly said, obviously not past your earlier conversation. It had left a bad taste in your mouth, the whole situation, not being in a comfortable place with your best friend wasn’t ideal.

“I didn’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” you started and then sighed, “And I didn’t like how we left things..” You stayed in your spot, sat in the middle of the room, face turned to stare at Mitch in the doorway.

“I admit, my tone wasn’t my favorite. I was flustered,” Mitch said finally, walking into the room, door swinging shut behind him.

“You could apologize,” you simply stated, not satisfied. You loved Mitch, but you weren’t a push over. “You basically said I was a prostitute, Mitch, with that harem remark.”

“I truly, didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. He decided to take a seat, mirroring your position. He moved like a cat, long limbs slowly folding in on themselves, making him appear much smaller than he was. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought, it just,” he paused, “was weird seeing you like that. You’re like my little sister -,” he stopped talking at the look on your face.

You blinked and looked away. Do not cry right now, c’mon. You knew that’s how he felt about you, it just always hurt to hear him say it. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I get it, you’re forgiven, anyway.” You regretted even asking for an apology now.

Mitch wouldn’t let it go, he knew that the two of you had to have this conversation for once, rather than sidestepping it every time.

“I know you’re in love with me, Y/N, and I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. I know we never talk about it, but we’re both possibly at the beginning of new serious relationships right now and I think we need to talk about this.”

It’s happening. He was right, you never talked about it, and you knew he was right about needing to talk about it, too. He was always the mature one.

“And what if I’m not?” you replied stubbornly, as much as you knew he was right, you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“What?” Mitch was clearly confused.

“What if I’m not on the verge of a new relationship and that kiss was just a one time thing with Harry. Then I’m left here alone and embarrassed while you ride off into the sunset with Sarah and your new life. Have you ever thought about how this all might be affecting me, put my romantic love for you aside, have you ever thought about how leaving your best friend behind might affect her, Mitch! I’ve thought about it and it sucks! It sucks because you’re the only person I’ve got, the only person who’s ever given a damn about me and always been there. Soon you won’t be. My tombstone won’t even read “Happy” just “Uneventful” and “Boring.”

You practically were screaming and you had no idea when all these feelings had bubbled you the surface, but tears were running down your face now. You had never been good with confrontation.  

“And I’ve been working on it.”

Mitch still sat in a stunned silence. Not used to you losing your cool with him.

“I’ve been working on getting over being in love with you, but a lifetime of being in love with you doesn’t just go away, not because you find a girl, not because I kiss a boy, but because I work on separating feelings and ideas in my mind. I had let the line be blurred between best friend and boyfriend, when you weren’t actually my boyfriend.” You paused, “I thought you were my soulmate since I was fourteen and you never even noticed how I looked at you.” You had started fierce, but you ended softly, almost whimpering out the last words.

“I knew,” he sighed, “I knew when you made sure to come to all my shows in high school. You never missed a single one.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why didn’t you set up boundaries?” You pleaded with Mitch, searching for an answer from him to make sense of everything.

“Because I was young and no one had ever done that for me, no one cared about me like you did before and it felt so good to not be ignored or overlooked. To be someone’s whole world, it felt nice.”

“But...look what happened.”

“It got out of hand, but I thought you’d find a guy when you went off to college and forget about loving me like that.”

“But that’s not what happened,” you both sat silent for a few moments, “I can’t lose you, Mitch, and I’m okay just being the best friend.”

“I can’t lose you either, Y/N. I’m so sorry I never addressed it sooner, it wasn’t fair of me to keep you on the line all these years. And I’m not going to leave you behind, I’m sorry if I have been neglecting our friendship with the album and Sarah.”

Mitch reached out and took your hand, rubbing it softly with his thumb. You noticed no butterflies when he did this and you squeezed his hand gently back.

“So, best friend, as much as I would love to ride home with you and your girl, I think there’s someone else I really need to talk to.”

You were always quick to move past fights with Mitch, they were never like this, of course, but you had said your piece and so had Mitch, seeing as he reverted back to his natural silent state. This definitely was a big step in the right direction for you to finally move past your romantic feelings for Mitch. Some closure.

Mitch nodded and you both stood up. “We should hang out soon, just the two of us, do something… friendly,” Mitch said softly. You smiled and nodded.

You knew this had been a wake up call for him, too. You hadn’t really hung out outside of the studio since he’d started seeing Sarah more exclusively, meaning weekly movie nights, ‘what’s in the fridge’ dinner nights, and new music mondays had all fallen by the wayside. You knew that he’d start being there for you more after this whole conversation, because that’s who Mitch was, he listened and he followed through.

You gave him a quick hug, happier with the outcome of this conversation than the last, even if this one had involved you shouting a little bit. Then, you split off from him in search of Harry.

He was in the recording area of the studio, sitting, staring off into space with his guitar resting in his lap.

“Hi,” you said carefully. He twitched his head at the sound and looked over to see you. “Have you been crying?” He asked immediately, standing up and setting the guitar on its stand. He crossed to you, quick to your side.

You shook your head, “No, well yes, but they were angry tears, more than sad.”

“Are you alright?” Harry still was concerned, angry wasn’t much better than sad.

“Just had it out with Mitch, it’s better now.”

“About earlier?” Harry led you to sit on the piano bench with him.

“No, about him, and me, it’s been a long time coming, but we’ve got it all out in the open now. He’s going to try to be a better friend, I think. And I’m going to try to be just his best friend.”

“Yeah?” Harry urged you to say more.

“But it did start about earlier, at least,” you ran a hand through your hair, “about what he had said to me earlier, after he had walked in on us.”

“What had he said?” Harry continued to inquire, trying to understand what he had missed.

“He was warning me not to be with you for the wrong reasons and to be wary of your intentions, I guess. He cares about us both, doesn’t want either of us to get hurt and I think it was also weird for him to see us in such a compromising position.”

“Why do you think he wanted you to be wary of my intentions?” Harry tilted his head, this comment not really making sense to him.

“Well, what are your intentions?” You didn’t want to mention the ‘harem’ comment, you knew Mitch had said it in the heat of the moment and it would only upset Harry.

“I like you, isn’t it obvious?” Harry said staring directly into your eyes.

“Um..” His blunt statement caught you off guard.

Harry ducked his head and puffed a laugh out of his mouth, almost in disbelief, “No, I guess it’s not.”

You sat there, silent, still no idea how to respond. Harry scratched his head and smiled at you, “You’re gorgeous and fantastic at everything you do. You’re witty and kind, fiercely loyal and never fail to bring a smile to my face, even when you’re crying or I’m crying. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

Still you remained silent. “C’mon, Y/N. Say something, please. I just laid it all out for you.”

You nodded and tried to streamline your thoughts. Today had been a lot, overwhelming to say the least. “I’ve never had someone feel this way about me, it’s a lot to take in. And...I like you too, Harry, but-”

“Don’t say ‘but’” he pleaded.

“But,” you sighed, “I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, being strung along by someone who can’t give you what you need. I don’t know how to love someone who isn’t Mitch, I want to, I really, really do, but it’s going to take time, and I like you enough to not want to hurt you.”

“Then let me teach you,” Harry said quickly, taking your hands in his, “Let me be the one to teach you to love someone who isn’t Mitch. That someone is me, by the way.”

You laughed at his final remark, still feeling overwhelmed and unsure.

“And I’m okay with going slow,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we don’t even have to label this. But when I’m with you, here, everyday, I feel at home and when you’re gone, I miss you. You’re constantly on my mind and I’m always looking for your approval. What would hurt me the most is if you don’t give us a chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that you can love someone else and they can love you back, properly.”

His eyes were begging you to say ‘yes’. His hands were clasped tightly around yours, tugging you closer to him.

After everything he said, you wanted to say yes. But, you were scared. You were scared because trying something new, taking a step into the unknown, it was scary sometimes.

But then, you thought back to when Harry had sat with you as you cried over Mitch and how he’d helped you through that moment of weakness. How you had known that night that you could trust him to be there for you. With Harry by your side, maybe you wouldn’t have to be so scared of the unknown, because you wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Only if you promise not to kick me out of the band if things don’t work out.” You smiled at Harry’s slight confusion. Then his confusion turned into a huge grin, almost every one of his teeth on display for you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t promise you that…” he said mischievously, making it your turn for a look of confusion, “But I’ll raise you one. I promise that things will work out and you’ll stay in the band.”

You rescinded a hand from his grasp and swatted his bicep. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re very cheeky?”

“Almost all the time! And look at that, you’re already speakin’ my language,” he smiled sweetly at you and winked.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed and went to swat him again, but instead he caught your wrist and brought it down to your side.

“Fine,” he said matter of factly and leaned into your lips, kissing you for a second time today.

He was an amazing kisser, better than anyone you’d ever kissed before, at least, which really wasn’t saying a lot, but you could tell he was experienced. You didn’t think you’d ever get over his warmth either. It was all consuming.

This time it was you who’s tongue asked for entrance to the other’s mouth. Harry gladly obliged as he pulled you closer to him on the bench.

You liked how quickly you and Harry could go from a serious topic to having fun, you’d said what needed to be said and now you were enjoying each other.

It was breathless between you and Harry. His hands ghosting over every part of your body and yours glued to his deliciously soft curls. Harry’s lips began to travel away from yours and a whine came from the back of your throat. Harry ‘tsk’ed against your jaw, but continued to leave open mouth kisses down the side of your neck.

“Oh” was all you said as he began to suck persistently at the base of your neck, right on top of your collarbone. It felt nice, really fucking nice and you felt a hand fall down onto the top of your thigh and squeeze it. This shot electricity through your entire body. The jolt didn’t stop Harry from continuing to suck along your neck, you just felt him pause for a moment, a smirk ghosting against your neck, nipping on the spot below his lips.

After what felt like hours, Harry kissed back up to your lips and then pulled away.

You were attempting to catch your breath when you said, “Is that what you call taking it slow?”

“I wasn’t hearing any complaints?” He responded as his smirk responded, shrugging his shoulders once again.

“No, no complaints,” you moved one of your legs so that both were on one side of the piano stool and scooted into Harry’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled your head into his chest. It had been a long day for both of you, as you thought back to lunch with Harry crying in the storage closet. He kissed the top of your hair and rested his chin on top of your head, beginning to stroke your arm lazily with his fingertips.

You sat in silence, breathing in each other’s presence. You also couldn’t believe how nice he smelled, even after a whole day of work. This man was magic, you thought.

Harry began to laugh softly and you shifted your head to look at him. “You know, I was planning on telling you today, before this all happened.” He continued after taking a finger and running it against the slope of your nose and tapping the tip, “It’s why I had been in such a good mood, had finished the lyrics, and was going to play it for you, but then I got all in my head. And then we were in the storage room and you were being so good to me and then we were kissing and then Mitch walked in and then you ran off and-.”

You cut off his ramble, “I think I got the rest, I was there, babe.” Heat quickly ran to your cheeks at your use of a pet name. Harry noticed it too and echoed it, “Babe? You just called me ‘babe’?”

“No, definitely not,” you tried unconvincingly.

“Oh, I like that,” he continued to tease you, echoing ‘babe’ once more, your face growing redder every second.

“Wait, you were going to play me what?” You suddenly circled back to the first part of Harry’s little rant. He took his hand away from your arm and used it to brush back a strand of hair that had gotten out of place on your head, “Sweet Creature, I was planning on serenading you and then telling you how I felt.”

“You’re fucking with me, that song isn’t about me,” you scoffed and turned your head away, feeling shy at Harry’s intense stare. He was so passionate and it came through in his big, bright eyes. They could be intimidating at times.

“Honest,” he said, “It was your tune after all, can’t believe you’d think I’d write about someone else with your own music.”

“I don’t know, I thought I was just helping you with a song,” you said sheepishly.

“I was looking at you the first time I said the words ‘sweet creature’” Harry persisted, still in disbelief that you hadn’t caught on to his crush on you until he had spelled it out, but then it dawned on him, you had never had someone pine after you.

In that moment he knew that he wanted to show you all the wonderful things that came with being liked by someone, and being intimate with someone who wanted you back. He didn’t care if you were getting over someone else, because he was going to be there to show you how you deserved to be treated and in turn he knew you’d eventually see him as more than a cute, nice guy friend who knew how to kiss.

You sat there as if you were seeing Harry with new eyes. His expression was earnest and he looked down at you brightly. You bit your lip to slow down the smile about to erupt on your face. You hadn’t felt this excited in a long time.

It felt good to be in a man’s arms who looked at you with such great care, almost as if you were the reason his world turned and he didn’t want that to stop, even if you knew it wasn’t true, his eyes insisted it was. It felt good to be in the embrace of a man who wrote you a song and made you smile and laugh. It felt good to be with a man who took your breath away and also got his taken away from you.

You reached up to Harry’s prominent cheekbone and danced your fingertips along his face. He had grown silent at your touch. Your fingers moved up to smooth one of his large brows and stopped at his brow bone. Harry closed his eyes when you touched his brow bone, your touch so close to his eyes. You rested there for a moment and then moved back down his face, traveling over his slightly gaunt cheeks again.

His eyes fluttered open and the sounds of your breathing filled the air, his soft panting slightly louder than your controlled quiet breaths. It seemed your soft caress was having an effect on him.

Harry loved intimate touch. It was taking all of his self-control to keep from nuzzling into your delicate hand on his face, wanting you to explore without his interference.

You continued to slide your hand down his face, over some light scruff, to the curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry parted his lips at this touch, unable to keep his lungs from hitching. You bit your lip again, noting your effect on him. You traced your thumb around the outline of Harry’s mouth, from his cupid’s bow, to one side, and then onto his plush lower lip.

You kept your thumb there, but pulled down slightly, Harry’s mouth opening further. He restrained the whimper in the back of his throat. You weren’t trying to get any reaction out of him, you were simply using your hands to look at his face, tracing him into your sensory memory.

When you pushed your thumb back up, putting his lip back into place, you felt his tongue peak out and touch you. You looked into his green eyes and he only looked back at you. You were in control. You pushed your thumb a millimeter further and Harry took it softly into his mouth, his tongue touching it sweetly and then he closed his mouth, creating a kiss on your thumb. You then removed your thumb from against his puckered lips and placed your exploring hand onto his thigh, giving you leverage to put yourself at eye level with Harry.

“You are so beautiful,” you said slowly, breathing out a breath you didn’t think you had been holding. His face lit up at your remark and he leaned forward to give you one more sweet kiss, “And so are you. Let’s get you home.”

-

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. You were constantly doing something. When you weren’t busy working on the album at the studio, Harry was sneaking you off to secluded places in the building to pepper you with kisses or whispering sweet nothings in your ear in between takes. He drove you home every night, walking you to your door and kissing you hard before you went inside, sometimes he’d come in with you and stay the night, cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Harry also took you out when he could, showing you little holes in the wall you’d never heard of and surprising you with presents that you always told him were too nice. Everything was coming so natural between you two and Harry treated you so well, it made being with him extremely fun and easy.

Mitch and you were doing best friend things again, too, movie nights and music recommendations, calling each other about random shit you’d seen on the news and couldn’t believe. You weren’t pining after him anymore. You loved him still, but you now knew what reciprocated romantic feelings looked like with Harry and you didn’t need or want that from Mitch anymore. Mitch had talked to Harry after you had explained what happened that night and he had given the big brother spiel to Harry, but was convinced when he heard the way Harry talked about you. He hadn’t realized how Harry had felt before then either. Harry joked that the two of you clearly had never seen a romcom before, because you were both “thick” when it came to flirting.

Today was no different from the rest, Harry had his arm slung around your shoulder as you were pressed into his side on the soundboard room’s couch, your arm reaching up to play with his fingertips. His mouth was against your ear, whispering, almost inaudibly, about how good you looked today and how he wanted to kiss you so badly and you were giggling at his borderline dirty words.

Nobody took any real notice, especially because this had been happening for weeks now. Whenever Mitch saw you two like this, he smiled with closed lips, but he seemed genuinely happy. He was happy that everything was working out in the best way possible.

Lunchtime was always fun because now it was time for you and Harry to sneak off to the first place you had kissed. Except it wasn’t so sneaky, literally everyone knew where you were going and what you were going to do. The minute you were inside the room, Harry would press you against the door, slamming it shut. His lips were on yours in an instant.

Today, he grabbed behind your knee and hiked it up around his hips, pressing himself closer to you. You both groaned at the way your bodies fit together. “Mmph, Fuck, Babe,” Harry groaned before moving to kiss your neck. You only whined in response, fisting a part of his shirt in one hand and some strands of his hair in the other.

You had worn a tank top today, so Harry was able to kiss all across your collarbone, he pulled down one side of the tank and your bra strap, exposing more naked skin. “Can you feel what you do to me?” Harry asks, lips ghosting over your skin, hands gripping your hips closer to his body. You can feel him pressing into you beneath his trousers.

“Can I?” you ask, he pulls away from his work on your neck and looks into your eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to…” his tone quickly softened. The two of you had only done heavy makeout sessions and some topless groping, but nothing below the belt, yet. “But, I want to take care of you,” you stated simply, meeting his gaze with lust blown out eyes.

He sighed, “Oh, darling.” He reached up to brush your hair into place, it was always getting so messy when you made out.

“My body wants nothing more than for you to take care of me, but one, if you blow me right now, I don’t know how I will get through the rest of the day without loving up on you every second,” you laughed at his words and rolled your eyes.

“And two, when it’s our first time, I want it to be our first time doing everything together, don’t want me to get a head start.”

You wanted to be serious about him being so sweet about your first time together, but you couldn’t ignore the sexual pun he’d just made. You burst out into unrestrained laughter and Harry looked at you, concerned. His eyebrows were knit together as he watched you laughing your head off.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Harry, did you hear yourself?”

“Thought I was being sweet,” he puffed indignantly.

“Head,” you said in between laughs, “Start.”

It clicked in his mind and he rolled his eyes at your immaturity. “You catch that, it’s not even funny, but you don’t catch my flirting for weeks...makes you wonder...” he trails off.

“You’re so mean to me! Guess you don’t want anymore kisses,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smiles.

The more time you spent together, the more your silly side kept coming out with him. Harry loved it, he loved that you could be intellectual and passionate, but also pick out some unintentional innuendo pun at the end of his heartfelt sentiment about your sex life together.

You readjusted yourselves to leave and as you exited Harry said, “What am I going to do with you?”

You held one of his hands and twirled in the hallway, smiling back at him as he walked behind you. You were like a dream, his dream. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone until you’d come into his life, being there for him, being the lovely person he’d come to know. You were wonderful and you were his. And he, in turn, was yours.

-

Hope you enjoyed part 3!

@imagine-that-1975

[mythiccheroacademia]

Is this really better?

A/N: After many requests for a part 2, here it is! I’m sorry I made you all wait so long for more heartbreak but gotta keep y’all on ya toes ;) Before you kill me, take comfort in knowing the final part is in the works. I like sad endings, but I won’t do that to y’all...this time. 

Also, the class 1-A girls really rep the “chicks before dicks” motto (as all women should). I remember I had to tell my friends to chill when I told them an ex of mine cheated on me. We made up half the class and I wasn’t trying to see anyone cry. It was deep, but it wasn’t that deep💀 So that part is a bit of an anecdote. 

As always, enjoy sugar plums 🖤

Paring: Sero X Fem!Reader

Warning: cursing, angst 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Is this really better?

The second you stepped out of Sero’s room, there was this relentless buzzing in your ears, filling your head with noise that made your head pound. You could tell someone—maybe Kaminari? Or was that Ojiro? You couldn’t fucking see—was trying to ask you what happened, your tears were thick. Forget hearing him.

All that you could do was walk. Your body had gone into autopilot, it’s only mission to get you out of his proximity, without raising alarm, as quick as humanly possible.

You didn’t know how or when, but soon enough, you threw open the door to the girls’ dorms. It was only 8:00pm, just before Aizawa would preform room checks, so the common room had been cleared to give him the impression everyone was tucked away in bed. It was a blessing. You bolted towards your room, desperate to shove your head under the covers and cry until you couldn’t.

Nearly five sprints down the hallway, you ran into Momo and Mina. The two had just come back from their shower and were talking about the movie the some of the girls were supposed to have later that night. However, they were startled when they saw you stumble back, tears drowning your cheeks.

“Y/N! Girl, what’s wrong!?” Mina asked, quick to hold your arm.

You shook your head, attempting an embarrassingly pathetic smile. “N-nothing. I’m good. I’m just—”

“You’re obviously not,” Momo interrupted, brows furrowing in worry. She took your hand from your eyes, so you had no choice but to leave your face bare. “Didn’t you have a date with Sero? Did something happen?”

The trembling of your lips told them everything they needed to know.

“Sero—Sero and I—"

The mere mention of his name threw you back to the past hour. Now that the buzzing had stopped, you were forced to think of everything that transpired.

Being excited about your date with Sero. Getting ready for your date with Sero. Waiting for Sero. Sero not showing up. Going to Sero’s room. Fighting with Sero. Breaking up with Sero. Sero. Sero. Sero.

Everything that had been built up came crashing down.

Your friends immediately took you into their arms when you crumbled, sobbing into their embrace as your feelings poured out. For a while, you had been so scared that he was losing interest—that school and life had increased his disinterest with you. And when he so quickly, so confidentially, agreed to break up with you, you felt your worst fears come to life. It hurt too much to think about it, so you let your heartbreak fill the air as you wept.

…

For the weekend, you kept to yourself. You only came out when needed. News of the root of your recent behavior got around to the all the 1-A girls and they were determined to keep you as healthy and supported as possible while respecting your wish for space. You were very thankful for them. You didn’t know what you would have done without their friendship.  

When Monday came around, the girls were hyping you up. It would be the first time seeing Sero since the breakup. You knew you looked horrible. Your eyes were swollen, your hair was barely put together, and you looked like you rolled out bed. Because you did. But you appreciated their efforts. Nevertheless, there was something you needed to address before class started.  

“Thanks everyone. But, could I ask y’all a favor?”

“Sure!”

“Whatever you need!”

You scratch the back of your neck. “I don’t want to start anything. I just wanna get through the day. So, maybe just act normal when he comes around, yeah?”

Everyone looked at Mina. She felt cornered.

“What!? It was one death threat!”

The stares get judgmental and she rolls her eyes.

“Fine, ugh. I’ll be…civil,” she sighs.

“Thank you,” you said, giving a small smile. You really did have the best friends.

Not too long after, you heard Sero’s laugh before you saw him. You quickly looked away from the entrance. Luckily, Ochaco was there with a distracting conversion.  

Sero walked in with Kirishima and Kaminari beside him. The trio giggled at whatever dumb joke the blonde cracked. However, he was brought out of his laughter when he saw you. Thinking about the guilt in his chest coupled with the agony of seeing you so…miserable made his heart flare. And not in a good way.

He tried to smile at you, holding onto the tiny ray of hope that maybe you didn’t completely hate his guts, but it was cut off as Jirou conveniently stepped in his line of sight, blocking you from his vision.

He wilted, blinking back the sting in his eyes.

Kirishima patted his back in comfort. “It’s okay, man. We’ve got you.”

“If it helps, I think they’re mad at all of us. On Sunday, Bakugo tried to ask Mina for his water bottle back and she made Ochako text Midoriya to give it to him. Midoriya bro,” Kaminari said. “He was pissed.”

Sero frowned. “Didn’t think it was possible, but now I feel worse.”

Kirishima punched the blonde’s shoulder.

That was how the day went.

You and Sero ignored each other. Your friends would keep you too distracted. It was hard to deal with and there was awkward tension during homeroom. It was like everyone was walking on eggshells with one another. It didn’t help that Todoroki—as dense as he was—asked Momo why you two had been avoiding each other. To make matters worse, you two were within earshot.

It was the first time Momo ever scolded him. He decided to mind his business after that. He didn’t like feeling like an asshole. Midoriya told him it a good lesson into recognizing social cues.

There was also that one time Bakugo confronted you in the hallway and went on a rant about how you and “soy sauce’s” misery was “fucking distracting.” You were so caught off guard that you didn’t have time to defend yourself before an angry cloud of pink got in his face.

Mina’s speech started with, “How dare you—” and ended with, “You insensitive son of a bitch.”

It was also Bakugo’s first in feeling like an asshole. He made the intelligent decision to walk away.

That happened on Tuesday. It was only Wednesday, when you and Sero unintentionally and unanimously exchanged quick, close-lipped, smiles just so your classmates didn’t kill each other. It was uncomfortable and painful, but it was more of a relief to feel the tension in the room subside—if only a little bit.

For the rest of the week, you two tried to be civil. You were to your own devices. Sero thought you looked well on your way to moving on. If he didn’t know any better, you kind of looked happier. More than you had been in a while. A week passed and your eyes stopped swelling. You started putting make up on again and you laughed. You actually laughed.

Maybe Sero did feel hurt that you looked like you were moving on so quickly. And yes, maybe he spent some nights locking himself in his room so he could cry over how stupid he felt for ever letting himself hurt you. Had you always been miserable because of him? Of course, the constant weight in his chest was suffocating to the point that even looking at you made him feel like he’d pass out.

But damn it if your laugh wasn’t the sweetest sound.

If it meant losing his smile, if meant feeling heartache, and if it meant dealing with the fact that he’d never get to kiss you again, then this was for the best

...

At least, that’s what he thought until he came back from his internship to see you on the bench outside of the dorm building. It was late and dark, but the moon was bright enough to cover your skin in a soft creamy glow. It made his heart flutter. 

It was also light enough for him to see the tears in your eyes.

The voice inside his head, his common sense, was telling him to haul his ass in the dorm and leave you alone. He was probably the last person you wanted to see, justifiably. However, it’d be the first time he left you alone to cry. And, that didn’t sit well in his spirit.

That’s how he found himself by the bench, startling you with a soft, “Hey.”

He watched a tear fall and chose to ignore it as you wiped it away.

“Uh, hi?” you replied, voice stuffy with tears.

What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?

Sero couldn’t look away from you, no matter how bad the tension felt. Your hair texture, the richness of your skin, the unique curve of your lips, the laugh lines on your cheek, the shape of your eyes, the little scar by your temple…God, have you always been this beautiful? Why did he let you go like that?

“I, um, just came back from my internship and um—” you just love sounding like a fucking idiot, don’t you? “—you looked cold. Here, take my jacket,” he whispered, like he was out of breath.

Thank God he was actually wearing one. Sero quickly took off his coat and was about to put it around your shoulders—like he had always done.

But you held up a hand. “It’s okay. I’m fine,” you said.

Of course, he could tell you were uncomfortable by the dip in your voice. Call it denial or plain stupidity, but Sero couldn’t accept your words. He saw the goosebumps on your legs. Now, whether that was from the breeze or something else, he didn’t know.

“Don’t be silly,” his smile was disarming. “Take it. It’s like 50-something degrees.”

“Thank you, but I’m okay.”

Just back away, Sero.

“You know you can just give it to me tomorrow—”

“Sero.”

What are you doing!?

“I really think you should take it—”

“I really don’t think I should—”

Dude!

“If you’re worried about returning it—”

“Like, I said—”

“You can just give it to Mina—”

“I—”

“And—”

“Hanta!!”

Suddenly, he resurfaced. Sero was back in reality, his jacket still in his arms. He blinked, finding the desperation in your watery eyes as you stared back.

What the hell are you doing?

“Please, just…stop,” you whispered. You looked away in fear he’d see the tears falling down your face. “Stop acting like you care.”

There was a pregnant pause before the black-haired hero took a step back, hair shadowing his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. His voice was almost carried by the breeze because it was so soft. “I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries”

You shook your head, still looking away. “It’s fine.”

You just wanted him to leave. So, that’s what he did.

Sero, quietly led himself up the front steps. When his fingers touched the doorknob, he paused.

“Y/N,” he said, one last time.

You looked back, frustrated over his persistence. “What?” you bit.

What you saw made your eyes widen. Sero let his own tears freely fall. But that wasn’t what made your heart stop. No. It was the wide, triangular, smile that accompanied it. Despite the sorrow in his eyes, his smile shined bright and genuine beneath them.

“It can’t be an act if I never stopped.”

With that, he disappeared behind the door, leaving you with nothing but his words.

You buried your face in your hands and cried.

[literaphobe]

season one of she-ra rated by catradora content

the sword part 1: right off the bat we find out just what adora’s all about. she’s a so called goody two shoes but she’ll lie to authority to protect catra.... ok lesbian lmao. but then we meet catra and she’s like “hey adora ;) how’s it hanging?” and we get it. we completely get it. oh my god. everything from the way catra talks to the way she laughs. adora never stood a chance :( we get a classic locker room flirting scene where catra teases adora and adora pretends she’s above all that only to be like hey cat gf is that a MOUSE which is very rude :( don’t scare ur cat gf or she will become evil :( oh wait. anyway.... their flirting gets cut short because homophobia walks in and separates them :/ before that tho she praises adora. adora who loves her gf so much ignores shadow weaver’s praise and says “catra did so good tho <3” and puts her arm around catra which pisses off the only homophobe in etheria. adora doesn’t really want to follow shadow weaver because she just wants to be with catra, and she even argues with shadow weaver about bringing catra onto the field with her. but she loses the argument because shadow weaver fucking sucks and has no idea how to be chill :/ catra finds adora after that and greets adora the way all gals greet their pals. by... pouncing on her waist. ok lol. catra is so proud of her gf getting promoted and says baby i love you <3 baby when are we leaving <3 except adora says catra’s not allowed to come :( so cat gf gets sad and runs to the roof. in response, adora gets a literal Grappling Hook to chase after her. adora doesn’t want her gf to be sad so she steals a skiff and they go on a date <3 but they’re so obsessed with control and play fighting with each other that adora falls off the skiff and finds out she’s like. god with a sword. i mean she-ra. uh, so adora fake wakes up in a dream and is like catra? :( because catra is the only thing she ever looks for when she wakes up (yes i am clowning. of course i know catra was the only person she was with but shhhh), and then she wakes up for real and catra is straddling her waist, which... ok. catra worries about her gf maybe being brain damaged so they cut their date short and go back to the fright zone. they go to sleep, and have their nightly sleepover, which means they sleep in the same bed :) even tho catra’s own bed is already on top of adora’s :) superb :) anyway adora dreams about her lesbian sword and wakes up scared. she smiles when she sees catra sleeping soundly in her bed however because uwu cat gf go zzzzz. adora gets out of bed which catra IMMEDIATELY senses because she opens her eyes right after and follows adora. because uh.... their friendship is just that lit and strong. catra is worried and wants to follow her gf to find this cool lesbian sword she keeps talking about, but adora makes perhaps one of the worst calls ever and tells catra to stay behind because she doesn’t want to get catra in trouble :( which is like, she has good intentions and all, but you should always bring your gymnast cat gf along when u look for sick ass gay swords. adora would know that if she wasn’t raised by the literal embodiment of gay oppression. oh well. guess they’re gonna have to fight each other for five seasons to figure it out. 9.5/10 because we got so much content all literally in the first ep. it’s like hey look they’re in love and they’re girlfriends who touch each other way too much. and we’re like noelle that’s really cool! will we get more gf content? and noelle said yes but also you’ve got a big storm coming! and it’s going to kill you!

the sword part 2: against adora’s wishes, catra gets in trouble for adora’s departure, and this makes catra sad bc where did her gf go? :( shadow weaver accuses catra of knowing where adora is because despite her raging homophobia she still knows that adora wouldn’t go anywhere without telling catra. and she’s right but just because she’s right doesn’t mean i have to like her. anyway... catra gets sent to bring adora back to the fright zone, and even tho shadow weaver threatens her in scary horrid ways catra is only happy to see adora again and once again pins her to the ground with her knees on adora’s.... yea........ and she’s happy bc she has a tank :) good for u catra we all love and cherish you <3333 anyway catra makes fun of adora because she thought adora got captured which... technically true but also not but also! catra sees a flower in adora’s hair which she takes to mean that adora cheated on her :( wtf :( and adora says no baby :( no i didn’t cheat on u :( and catra is like. ok fine. let’s go back to the horde. and adora says baby we can’t go back to the horde :( did u know that they were evil? im woke now. come be woke with me. and catra is like. wait. u just realized the horde sucks? did you not see shadow weaver electrocute me. did you think she did that for gay rights? and adora is like catra baby i didn’t mean it like that :( but it’s too late. it’s all very upsetting and i don’t wanna get into it. essentially catra thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse by fighting the horde from within but adora thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse and the horde’s evil by literally escaping the horde. u can see where both of them are coming from and that’s why it’s so sad :( it’s so fucking sad y’all :( they do their whole. come with me vs stay with me thing,,, and it doesn’t work out. duh it’s like ep 2 why would it work out. catra finds out that adora can use her lesbian sword to turn into a taller lesbian and instead of giving into her gayness and marrying adora right away her internalized homophobia makes her run away :( she thought adora doesn’t care about her anymore because she has new friends and can turn into a giant sword lady :( and it’s all very sad :( 8.5/10

razz: adora’s having trouble turning into she-ra. no one asked, but based on this whole show, it’s because she just broke up with catra and that hit hard :( it’s pretty hard to turn into ur superhero alter ego when you’re yearning. back at the horde, catra is also yearning. she is bitter because everyone is raving about how lit she-ra is and catra is like yeah she-ra is sexy but can we have a discussion about how she-ra breaks your heart. how she-ra makes you cry. how she-ra abandons you for new friends and doesn’t want to be your gf anymore? have we considered that? and everyone is confused because why does catra seem like she knows she-ra so well. didn’t you just meet her catra? and even tho catra is a bitter ex who’s angry and wants revenge she’s still like. in love with adora and wants to protect her. so she acts cool and doesn’t tell anyone that adora is she-ra. even tho lonnie tells catra not to be so feral because “adora’s not here to protect you anymore” catra still wants to protect adora. okay. yes the thought of that does make me wanna cry. what about it. catra goes and lies on their shared adora’s bed. and she sees the teeny drawing of catra and adora on the bed frame. it reminds catra of the break up and she scratches adora’s picture. she regrets it like instantly and starts destroying the bed. and she cries. she like cries real tears what the FUCK. and then SHADOW WEAVER WALKS IN?? rude much?? can’t a girl get some privacy as she mourns a break up with a girl she’s been in love with her whole life but technically never dated for real? 9/10

flowers for she-ra: adora realizes that it’s a pretty bad idea to break up with your girlfriend when you spent your whole life sleeping in the same room/same bed as her and she comes to the Very Shocking realization that she gasp! cannot sleep without catra! wow who would have thought! so she immediately goes on a search for a sleeping partner rebound... who is glimmer (sorry glimmer it’s her first time not having her gf) and she even sleeps at glimmer’s feet the way we saw catra sleep at adora’s feet. really makes you wonder if catra and adora take turns doing that? sleeping at each other’s feet because their internalized homophobia (thanks a lot shadow bitch) prevented them from going a step further and sleeping in each other’s arms... oh well. meanwhile, catra is gloating about being force captain, but she’s also Still protecting adora’s identity as she-ra. and apparently, drawing pictures of she-ra? that she hid from shadow weaver? is that what happened? i can’t tell if she drew that picture or not but the way it looks from the scene she Definitely drew that picture! hello????? anyway, catra’s still crying to anyone that has ears about how her gf dumped her, when really it was kind of a mutual break up that was entirely shadow weaver’s fault even tho she wasn’t there. sigh. i’m bringing this up to a 7/10 because of “it’s just a phase! she’s confused, i’ll bring her back, i swear :(“

the sea gate: “i’ve got something more important to do” and here we see the start of catra literally abandoning all other duties because she would rather go flirt with her enemy gf... she literally hopped onto she-ra’s sword.... she insult her gf....... she brag to her gf about achievement.... but she also want her gf back :( adora refuses to go back to the land of oppression tho so they get into a. really suggestive fight. and catra always makes adora leaving the horde out to be adora leaving her.... she’s like babe i am literally so sexy. why would you dump me :( i’m hot :( and she’s right but i hate them. can y’all just like. not be so gay? :/ it’s starting to make me a lil bit homophobic tbh! and catra whispers into adora’s ear but it’s kind of like an insult so she gets water slapped and is forced to stop flirting :( boooo 8.5/10

system failure: hm. catra wasn’t in this ep? damn :( it’s a great ep but it’s pretty hard to find any catradora if adora is delirious the whole time and catra isn’t there. but! drunk/high adora existing gives us an idea of what she would be like around catra. 1/10 for the potential

in the shadows of mystacor: catra’s face when she sees adora in shadow weaver’s spy cam thing... interesting. she also acts like she’s So Sick of the adora missions which is true but also she is lying. kind of annoying that shadow weaver would be like. homophobic. but when she’s messing with adora’s head in mystacor she uses catra’s voice and laugh to achieve maximum effect :/ which like. thanks? but catra wasn’t actually there so shadow weaver really full on gaybaited adora huh :/ adora eventually defeats shadow weaver and we finally see catra again uwu she ends up plotting to kidnap bow and glimmer but the line “if you want to take down adora, you have to go for the heart” is so interesting because we eventually find out just how much of adora’s heart is filled with catra... 4/10 on its own 6/10 if you let the heart comment ruin your life!

princess prom: ARE Y’ALL READY TO PARTY oh my god,,, this is it you guys. this is THE ep. so funny of adora to be like. i have so many plans for every single thing that might happen. i am GOING to spend the party getting princess frosta to join the rebellion. and then catra shows up and adora is like nvm. what if i followed catra wherever she went instead. which is very interesting! adora, sweet baby, why do you always assign yourself to fight/follow/chase catra? when according to her in future eps is actually a bad decision which we can infer from her saying stuff like catra knows my every move she will be able to take me down,, ok then stop hogging her all the time?? anyway. let’s get into things chronologically. “how dare those princesses pretend they’re better than you? just because you’re different? how dare they abandon people just because they don’t fit in with their perfect little lives? how DARE they take best friends and turn them into giant sword ladies who run off with people clearly inferior to you?!” catra.... u got sth to say there buddy? :/ u got something u wanna get off your chest? :/ u had us in the beginning but then you started to get really specific :/ what’s that about sweetie :/ catra’s coping mechanism for this is to put on a really hot suit and going to princess prom to seduce the shit outta adora? fucking genius. yes she also kidnapped two people but let’s focus on the ingenuity of catra’s plan to make adora hot and heavy and also somehow jealous the entire time. incredible. so, catra shows up at the prom with scorpia and adora immediately starts bickering with her about rules. she fails to get catra kicked out so she resolves to stalk her instead! and catra... oh catra... she puts on a whole show..... performing everything from popping a tiny cake into her mouth to circling around a pillar seductively and dropping a note into a bin that says hi adora >:3 with a drawing of catra’s face that she worked hard on!! and adora looks like a crazy stalker ex gf and everyone is like damn.... u ok? :/ but adora doesn’t have time to care too much aside from a little “haha i swear i’m not a weirdo!” look because her mind is just screaming CATRA CATRA CATRA and she finds catra creeping up to entrapta. but ofc catra’s not trying to push entrapta off the ledge! no! she’s using entrapta to make adora jealous :3 catra pulls entrapta close and says “she stole my food and then asked me to spy on people with her. is this what love feels like?” and it WORKS and adora has to pull entrapta aside and be all hey i know we’re not super close yet but the bro code kinda states that u don’t date ur friend’s ex :/ so could you please back off? and entrapta is like say what now? ur gf just ditched btw so adora goes running after catra again and surprise surprise! it’s time to dance! and there are romantic lights and music! and uh oh! everyone else has a partner except for catra! guess this means adora’s gotta dance with her ohhhhh noooooooo :/ “i don’t know about you.... but i am having a blast” i really don’t think catra was lying!! i am on the verge of passing out!! adora moving away from catra after saying “whatever it is you’re planning, it won’t work!” and catra, many dance partners later, slamming back into adora’s body to continue their conversation with “maybe my plan won’t work, but then again...” THE DIP!!!!!!! “maybe it already has...” oh my god you guys. what the fuck. like they get into an angry shove fight after this but the tension! the tension! and then adora LIFTS catra up in the air? real close? they get ice blocked by frosta after this, more specifically she traps adora because she shoved catra first djfjdjdjdjd,,, after telling glimmer to find bow catra grazes adora’s chin with her tail to remind her that she’s still here!! don’t neglect!! and catra says the iconic “it was fun distracting you though ;)” line that adora was clearly affected by because she memorizes it and says it back to catra..... years later. i CANNOT make any of this shit up. what the fuck y’all. the fact that these evaluations are so long bother me but i HAVE to call these hoes out!! moving on, adora runs after catra in a very dramatic chase/fight scene, and adora is very amped up on uh, hormones. she catches catra at a “dead end” and goes “hah! trapped >:)” which is such a stupid thing to say to ur cat gf who can jump very high, so catra says “you wish ;)” and it is just. everything they are saying sounds very suggestive okay why are they LIKE THIS anyway catra jumps up some floating ice and adora follows her up the floating ice because she’s gay and she will jump however much is required of her to chase her gf down ok!! and so adora and catra are now on some ice cliff where adora keeps lunging and they’re also kind of like dancing? and catra is being very ~smooth~ dodging all of adora’s strikes and hitting her in one move. that’s kind of cool but also don’t bully your gf :( come on catra :( not cool :( but adora doesn’t give up and they continue fighting, until one missed move from catra nearly sends her off the cliff. but adora thinks she’s hot and she’s in love with her so she’s like nooo catra don’t fall off this cliff ur so sexy aha and catches her by. the waist. not the hand! but by the waist. any normal person would’ve gone for the hand. factually speaking, catra’s hand is easier to reach than her waist. but adora’s a hoe. so, she grabs catra by the waist and pulls her in closer by grabbing! oh you guessed it! her chest! like she grabs her shirt but it’s the part of the shirt that was at the chest. what the fuck. they both get this look in their eye that makes it seem like they want to kiss each other???? hello????????? and like. very upsettingly we now know that they’ve always wanted to kiss each other so. that knowledge makes watching this scene even worse. they shouldn’t have become enemies if they were going to be this horny. they’re so distracted by each other’s lips that they forget they’re standing at the edge of a cliff and guess what! they fall off the cliff! what a twist! but adora is like i’m NOT going to die because i was distracted by catra’s lips, so she grabs her hair stick thing and stabs it into the ice cliff. she grabs catra by the hand to save her, not the waist this time, because holding catra’s hand is also gay so she might as well do it. too bad catra lets go of her hand and ditches her tho :( i would minus points for that except it wouldn’t make much of a difference. catra says “see you later, princess ;)” because she’s already expecting to see adora again.... good lord 4828473737373/10 thanks noelle! i died

no princess left behind: but i’m a buddhist so i’m back. we open with catra laughing so prettily looking at her gf’s lesbian sword. very cute. later on, when shadow weaver betrays catra and tells her to go pack her things because she’s not needed anymore... adora gives her this look? :( she looks like she feels bad because catra’s clearly still suffering under shadow weaver’s thumb. but let’s zero in on the most important part! catra dragging the sword and pointing it at adora, before turning it around and giving it to her. “this is NOT because i like you” ok catra i didn’t think that before but now i Absolutely believe that you did this because you like adora. and u can tell adora kind of is like. ready to start her whole “you can come with me! we can be together! :(“ thing but things are complicated and catra told her to Just Go so... it is a lot and we know things are deeper than just catra liking adora but we will get emo over that later. 9/10 that was a good fucking scene

the beacon: “she left me behind too, like i was nothing :(“ some people say this is catra manipulating entrapta, and they are correct, but also she’s like.. “oh adora left you too? mad kin :(“ she was deadass about to start a support group with entrapta and technically she kind of did! good for them <3 catra goes to look for first ones tech and adora goes to look for the beacon to learn how to heal and guess what happens! they’re looking for the same place! catra’s “on second thought... hey adora >;)” at the end pushes this up to an 8/10, but that’s just like the last five seconds of the ep so objectively the rest of the ep was like. 4/10 idk lmaoooo

promise: finally some good fucking food. catra follows adora into the beacon and has a little fun spying on her and enjoying her epic fails at getting information on she-ra. she also finds the first one tech she needs, because she’s a multitasker and she can spy on her gf while doing important missions <3 but also she gets caught and adora nearly kills her fksjdjd “hey watch it! >:(“ is so funny because catra??? u are trespassing???? but also uwu baby yeah don’t accidentally kill ur gf adora :( adora’s reaction is also very funny “catra? what are you doing here? :O” as if catra hasn’t shown up at 70% of the places adora has been, but the way she asks it’s like. adora is happy to see catra? pleasantly surprised? man she is whipped. anyway, adora tries to pull the Tough Girlfriend move and like, mildly scold catra for trespassing into a building where only one person (she-ra) is allowed to be in. but she still grabs catra’s hand and guides her to an escape path :’) she lifts up a giant door thing and waits until catra runs in to let go and run after her <3 chivalry isn’t dead after all <3 they get into a lover’s tiff as they run for their lives and essentially it’s like “babe wtf WHY are giant mutant spiders trying to kill us isn’t this ur house” “they’re trying to kill YOU this is why you ring the doorbell instead of running in secretly after i open the door!” “oh and how was i supposed to know that! why can’t you just tell your teenage mutant ninja spiders to chill out??” “they’re not house-trained babe :( i moved in two minutes ago they came with the apartment” anyway the angry spider monsters catch up to them so catra goes “adora? :(“ and that’s enough for adora to take Direct Action so she slashes the walls and ceiling of the room they’re in before grabbing catra to shield them both. she is NOT getting her deposit back but uwu anything to keep gf safe <3 adora transforms back to her usual body and she once again reminds catra that she’s Not Supposed To Be Here and she’s like “god now i have to like Protect You and it’s gonna put my life in danger :/ haha what are you gonna do for me in return tho ;)” and catra is like. “well good thing i didn’t ASK you to protect me” so adora is like :( —> >:( wait u know what??? ok u know what????? why are u here >:( how’d u find me?? >:( and do u mean any of this in a gay way?? >:( say it’s in a gay way right now >:( and catra is like. ur gay castle sent a gay beam of light into the sky. i saw it immediately bc im gay but i do NOT mean this in a gay way. and adora is like oh :( ok :’( and then asks about shadow weaver bc she saw what went down in the horde and she like. i think she can tell shadow weaver still exerts some form of control that catra hasn’t broken free from? :( and then catra is like haha shadow weaver is a LOSER and adora starts giving her Gay Looks and it makes catra scared because her gf now thinks she has a crush on her!!!!!!! how Embarrassing!! “ugh, i knew you’d be weird about me letting you escape” ok so why did you say that thing about not liking her? “i told you it’s not because i like you!” there it is! that’s EXACTLY what i thought you’d say you lesbian! and the way she says it??? she definitely likes adora???? she is so bad at lying?????? and adora is so smug about it like her Face plus her crossed arms and the whole “i mean, i didn’t ;) i didn’t say anything ;)” her eyes.... your honor she’s gay...... she’s like what if we were in my secret castle..... standing amongst the rubble because i destroyed the infrastructure to protect you..... and we were both girls....... adora was Ready to turn her sword into a Bed right then and there ok!!! it’s not me it’s Her Eyes,,, anyway catra starts being salty again and brings up bow and glimmer and is like hey where’s those idiots u dumped me for :/ thought you looooooved hanging out with them and doing everything with them :/ like we used to :/ are they not as fun to hang out with adora is that why you’re standing in this spider infested building with me instead :/ and adora suddenly remembers that she can’t just be horny and that she has to hold catra accountable for her actions so she’s like oh my friends? the ones who u kidnapped and held for ransom???? >:( and catra is like ya what other friends would i be talking about :/ like god i know she’s evil but she’s so funny take her back adora :( jk ik ur gonna start begging her to Come With You in like minutes u absolute simp. but before that happened catra was like fuck u lets Split Up >:( we already broke up why would we run away from spiders together huh? unless u still like me? but clearly there’s only one way for them to walk so they can’t split up just yet and adora gives catra this >:( look so catra is like FINE one last date and they walk away together. they go into this... dark room and catra wants to leave the dark room because she’s scared of ghosts :( jk but the door disappears and something scans catra and adora and light hope is like cool! time to show them memories that are specifically picked to make catra resent adora! which :( not cool light hope :( i get that ur a bot who’s programmed to serve the homophobic agenda but damn u were gay once too :( anyway they’re sent to a memory in the fright zone and adora gets Angry bc she thinks catra tricked her and catra is like i wouldn’t play u like that :( and she finds out it’s all fake so she’s like adora :D u don’t have to be scared or mad at me anymore! :D she goes to look for adora but adora’s watching a memory of them when they were six and being really cute. back when adora had the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and only really cared about making catra happy and having her back. catra blinded octavia and insulted her and adora was still like: ur not bleeding ur bones aren’t broken and u picked a pointless fight with someone who did not provoke you in any way. where is she i will insult her some more. i love u. like damn adora really do be a ride or die girl huh!! she’s still like this but they both have too many issues to realize it :( anyway catra and adora slip into the catra and adora of their memories and begin running off together holding hands............ and then they Realize they’re running off together Holding Hands....... and catra pulls away because of her internalized homophobia :( devastating. they get into a tiny little fight over magic and kidnapping again and then adora’s face softens and she’s like catra :( why Did you let me escape :( i know i made fun of u for it before but i legit do not know if u meant it in a gay way. pls confirm? :( u could have gotten caught catra :( why did u risk it :( is it because you secretly want to run away with me and join the rebellion? :( and be my gf? :( she’s so caught up in her questions that she nearly falls off a cliff AGAIN and catra catches her by the hand because these girls are obsessed with almost falling off cliffs to their deaths and saving each other. don’t judge them their Intricate Rituals are THAT deep. and catra is like. did you really think. i would let shadow weaver erase your memory like that? and risk you forgetting our relationship? even towards the end when we were broken up and fighting each other it was kinda lit and i want u to remember it. and adora is an idiot so she’s like idk lmao probably aren’t u like evil now and catra is like well you have a point but also fuck u for thinking i don’t care about u,,, u never did have too much faith in me :( and adora is like can u blame me :( and catra is like ur hot so.... no. i will let my tail linger on your hand as a hint that i still love you. and then catra is like.... adora i know u said fuck horde rights but does that include our relationship :( u had good memories right :( of me? :( and adora is like um duh??? i miss you so goddamn much too oh my god and catra is like hey how dare you imply that i missed you even tho it’s true!!! get over urself! and adora is like not until you admit you like me ;) and they play fight again because the rituals are so intricate..... and catra lies and says she doesn’t like adora ok lmao... they enter the next memory and it’s catra and adora sparring and they’re competitive but it’s also flirty? catra pretends to be hurt to get adora to let her guard down but lonnie interferes and this causes adora to beat catra. which. yeah :( and after adora wins she does the good gf thing where she asks catra if she’s okay and catra’s not ok but she lies and hides away to cry :( and we get it babe we do!! it’s hard being in love with someone who you’re also resentful of because you’re raised in a competitive environment and always treated like you’re worthless in comparison :( but the simulation stops and catra is caught by one of the spiders and adora doesn’t manage to save her in time, grabbing her hand only to fail and have catra slip through her fingers :( they scream for each other but catra manages to get the upper hand on the spider monster, except adora charges in at the last second and delivers the final blow, further driving home the false point that light hope is trying to make :( adora just wants to protect catra but because of their upbringing catra sees it as adora always wanting to be the best and adora thinking she’s better than catra hence her telling catra what to do “all the time” which isn’t totally true but it’s what catra has been led to believe :( and also adora’s upbringing plays into it too because she thinks she has to save everyone and take responsibility for everything and it’s all just really sad bros :( what the fuck :( adora apologizes for leaving again and tries to convince catra she never meant to leave her and that she wants catra to come with her because she knows catra isn’t a bad person :( and you can see!! catra considering it!! but then precisely BECAUSE catra is considering it the memory simulation thing kicks in again and... hoo boy. we see catra and adora sneak into the black garnet chamber, after being cute and competitive and running around the horde swinging from wire to wire.... they get caught by shadow weaver and she specifically punishes only catra. and it’s so fucked because it puts adora in this position of guilt where she always feels like she has to protect adora whilst slowly brainwashing her over the years into believing that catra does do disobedient things and that adora can only escape that if she’s always perfect and taking charge of everything. and for catra.... it takes the mutually loving relationship they have and poisons it because shadow weaver makes it very clear that to her, catra’s only redeeming quality is that adora favors her? and if not for that she would be disposed of? and so it’s very hard for catra to find individuality and a healthy connection to adora which created unresolved resentment and issues and just... :( and the whole confrontation they have after the simulation ends... adora could never protect catra in the way she needed to be protected because adora was also a child, and receiving a different form of abuse, and it’s just. harder for catra to leave? especially because she didn’t receive a sudden destiny the way adora did and her issues with the horde were never limited to morality. and so catra is just. she has way too much to work through and she can’t see past her resentment for adora because the machine is making her remember all of it. and so she tells a half truth and half lie to adora about giving her the sword because she didn’t want adora to come back :( catra runs away from adora and is attacked by flashes of memory. and then she faces one last memory alone. and it’s the promise adora made to catra when they were kids, about always looking out for each other, and catra looks at kid!catra and thinks adora has broken that promise, still stinging from the hurt of adora leaving her behind after finding the sword and becoming she-ra. it was never meant to be like this but catra is hurting so she focuses only on her side of things and how she saw these events play out and she :( decides to kind of betray adora? it hurts So Much because adora looks so hopeful when she sees catra while hanging on for dear life, and she thinks catra will save her again but catra talks about how the sword won’t work for her because she’s never been the Special One like adora was always heralded to be in the horde. and having adora literally be she-ra just drives that point home for catra and she hates adora for it because this means all the other stuff she believes is true too. adora made her feel weak on purpose, adora made catra think she needed her on purpose. “every hero needs a sidekick, right?” and adora’s “catra, no, that’s not how it was!” hits even harder now because we know that adora just. loved catra. she was in love with her but adora was also like catra in that she’s a product of her circumstances and upbringing. she was the way she is as a means of survival. but the one thing there that was pure and true was that they loved each other.... upsettingly neither of them can see that. catra goes down even further into the path of evil and thinks that. being free of adora. is the thing that will liberate her and bring her happiness. which. she is wrong about. but she can’t exactly see all that clearly right now :( and adora begging catra not to “do this” which... means she’s begging her not to leave? “bye adora! i really am going to miss you” and adora’s desperation skyrockets but it’s too late :( catra doesn’t come back for her and adora cries.... and it’s just so insane that literally everyone who wants to control adora focuses on poisoning her bond with catra because that’s the relationship that... matters most to her in the world. when you’ve loved someone your whole life it hurts when they betray you and it hurts to betray them too, as we can see from catra when she arrives back at the horde. she essentially looks Wrecked and freezes up when scorpia calls her “the best friend ever!” but i want to make one quick note of her “personal space” talk with scorpia? like fjdjdjdjd you have never had personal space with adora not once in your life ok that’s reserved for the gf only i see. 10/10 i am so wrecked emotionally this is way too much but also because it makes me so emo i will give it a perfect score but nothing else. no bonus points because i do not want to reward putting me in pain!

light hope: light hope showing adora the memories that make her feel guilty and it’s the first scene where catra sees her as she-ra and walks away.... adora’s been feeling guilty over catra since the moment she failed at getting catra to leave the horde :( 3/10

the battle of bright moon: “catra will be leading the horde when they attack. i have to face her.” it’s so interesting how there’s so many pressing things at hand? the weather is screwy, the alliance is broken, no one’s coming to save them, the rebellion could be crushed, but the thing that is really bothering adora, the thing that she brings up first, is catra. “i saw catra in there. i thought i could get through to her, but all i did was push her farther to the side of evil” she sounds... so heartbroken about it all :( catra and adora meet on the battlefield and the first thing catra says is,,, u guessed it,,,, “hey adora.” and adora’s like “catra. surprised to see me?” and like damn they’re really so good at being enemies. the talent. the tension. impeccable. and then catra says nah i didn’t think u died and im glad u made it out alive. and adora, bless her soul, is like oh.... u mean in a gay way..... u didn’t want me to die..... for homosexual reasons?? and catra is like no! haha! i uh, i just wanted to kill u in a cooler much sexier way. and adora is like oh :( oh >:( oh >:’( and they get into a very heated sexy fight like catra wanted. and they taunt each other like. “i thOUgHt yOU weRe suPposED tO bE stRoNG” “aND i tHouGHt yOu wERe sUpPOsEd tO bE fAst” you know. very cool well crafted taunts. and like. they fight a lot which is kind of sad but also kind of sexy because their styles are like? similar and different? which is the dumbest way to compare any two things ever but like :( y’all get what i mean right :( we get one more Hanging Off A Cliff scene and this time adora grabs catra by the chest and shoves her against the wall, and catra is like cool! but u did this,, for what? and then adora realizes catra was just distracting her Again and bright moon is very badly under attack :( catra bids her adieu so adora can run back and fight. but she like. gets caught :( and catra walks up to her and gently caresses her cheek before adora passes out and it’s evil but it’s also tender? but it’s also evil i know i know :( all of the princesses come to help adora so she sends a beam of magic gay light and heals everything and then all the princesses send a gay tsunami washing over catra. the horde loses, and catra retreats in a skiff, but adora and catra exchange one more Look as she leaves... hm. 9/10

[one-piece-drabbles]

Can you please do one with Rodger knowing about ace's execution and maybe ace being saved by luffy and reacting idk alive or dead. This doesn't even makes sense but anything like this will work.

Y’know, it’s not really what you’re looking for, but I figured an answer to this ask was better than no answer at all. Between rewriting an old Ace time-travel fic of mine, I’ve been working on a new Ace time-travel fic with...different goals. If you don’t mind, I’ll be using your ask an excuse to post about it.

So if any of y’all out there have facts about Roger and/or his crew (I’ll take headcanons too), send them my way! I could use some inspiration. Read on if you want a taste of what I’ve been up to with all of this.

“This will be my final order as your captain!”

Ace slowed to a stop. Final?

“It’s time for us to part ways! You must all survive and return to the new world!”

Someone was yelling, begging Whitebeard to say he wasn’t planning on dying here, but it was plain on the old man’s face: he was making himself the last sacrifice.

“I’m a relic of a bygone era!” Whitebeard declared, silencing the complaints. “No ship can carry me into the new age! Get away from here, my sons!”

His next quake rocked Marineford, nearly throwing Ace off his feet. Luffy was still tugging him along towards the ships, but Ace couldn’t tear his eyes from his father.

“Pops!” One last word. One last look. One last something.

Whitebeard grinned in the face of the entire navy bearing down on him. “It’s been a long journey. Let’s finish this once and for all!”

All of Marineford was crumbling, the massive structures little more than paper in the face of Whitebeard’s power. The ground rumbled like the sea in a storm, but through all of it, Whitebeard was an unshakeable pillar of destruction.

Haruta broke rank. “We can’t leave you behind, Pops!”

Whitebeard’s response was swift and catastrophic, stopping Haruta in his tracks. “Can’t you follow your captain’s orders?” he roared. “Get away from here, you lousy brats!”

The tide of pirates began to retreat. It pulled at Ace, but he remained rooted to the spot, that pounding need for just one more look crystallizing into its true shape. He broke from Luffy’s grip and took one step towards his father. His only father.

“Ace!” Luffy cried. “We gotta go!” And then, words that cut like knives: “Don’t let the old man’s sacrifice go to waste!”

That was exactly the problem. Ace glanced back at his brother. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He turned back to the horde of marines closing in on Whitebeard, the heat of his own flames swirling around his fist. It would have to be enough.

“Out of the way!” His hiken tore through their ranks like a torrent. As the flames died down, so did he, dropping to his knees and bowing his forehead nearly to the ground. Tears built in his eyes and he squeezed them shut.

Somehow, impossibly, Whitebeard’s words carried across the distance between them. “I have little use for soft words…but tell me one thing, Ace.” The tears threatened to break through. “Was I good father?”

The damn broke. “Of course!” he cried, his whole body shaking as his voice cracked.

Whitebeard just laughed. Ace, bowing even lower, swallowed and climbed back to his feet, finally heeding Jinbe’s order to get to the front, only for a new voice to cut through all the noise.

“You free Ace and then turn tail and run, huh? The Whitebeard Pirates are a pack of cowards.” Time slowed. “But considering who your leader is, that’s no surprise! After all, Whitebeard is nothing but a loser from a bygone era!”

And suddenly, he wasn’t heeding Jinbe at all. Rage flared high in his chest and his tears burned up. He turned to face the admiral—

But Akainu wasn’t there. Uncomprehending, Ace stared at the tropical forest where Marineford had been. Five distant peaks stretched into the sky like fingers, but there were no buildings, no fortifications. Instead of walls bearing down, palm fronds rustled in the calm breeze while waves gently rolled onto shore behind him.

Even the air had changed. There was no smoke, no gunpowder, only salt. The fallen marines and pirates were gone. He turned around again, but Luffy and all of his crewmates were gone too. No ships sat on the glimmering waves. No ice held fast the sea.

“P-Pops?” His voice sounded strange to his ears. The breeze came again. A coconut broke free and tumbled the long way to the ground, only for it to get stuck in the sand. “Luffy?”

Another spin didn’t change anything. There was no one around. The sun wasn’t even in the right place. It hung high in the sky, dead at its zenith.

His balance rocked and he sank to his knees. Was this a joke? A Devil Fruit? He brought his arms up to hug himself, only to notice something odd about his left. There was no ink in his skin; his ASCE tattoo had disappeared. Yanking off the tank top that had materialized on his torso and tossing it aside, he craned his neck, fingers pulling on his skin to bring more of it into view, but no matter how he looked—over his left shoulder, over his right shoulder, around his sides—his Whitebeard tattoo was nowhere in sight. It was like it had never been there at all. Even his necklace was gone.

He held out his shaking hands, only then realizing just how small they were. His gaze drifted back to the trees. Were they really that big, or was he…

He was. Shaking harder, he tried to summon some fire, any fire, but nothing happened. There was no response at all. When he dug his nails into his palms, though he could feel it just fine. He could feel everything—the breeze tousling his hair, the sand shifting under his feet, the sun warming his skin. The odds that this was a dream or a nightmare were dwindling with every second that Ace spent hoping this wasn’t real.

Something crashed through the underbrush just past the tree line. Ace froze, then scooped up his shirt and gave chase. Branches lashed at his skin, but even though he hadn’t been this small in years, he still remembered all those days crashing around Goa Island. This place didn’t hold a candle to those wild forests.

The shadow darted left. Ace hooked a hand around a tree’s narrow trunk and swung after it, but he overestimated his reach and fell comically short. He tumbled to a stop, backside stinging, pride bruised.

As he raised his eyes from the ground, he met the gaze of a wild boar. It blinked at him, then, with a huff and a snort, turned and walked away.

That was what he’d been chasing? Ace let his head fall and scrubbed a hand through his hair. What was going on?

“And why am I a kid?” he mumbled. Sure enough, his voice came out way higher pitched than he was used to. Letting his hand fall, he tipped onto his back and stared up through the canopy. He hoped Luffy was okay. His sworn family, too. If they’d come all that way to save him only for him to disappear in the middle of it…Well, Pops would probably keep everyone in line. Marco, too.

He squinted as the sun came out from behind a cloud. What did he know? He was a kid again, for some reason. He was on some island he’d never seen before, for some reason. And, of course, he didn’t have his powers anymore, for some reason. The strategy he’d used to escape that island with Deuce wouldn’t fly here.

As the edge of another cloud took the edge off the sun’s glare, Ace’s skyward gaze fell on the mountains punching over the horizon.

Any kind of vantage point was better than nothing, right? At least he could see if there were any other islands nearby. If this was an archipelago, there were probably people on one of them, and where there were people there were ships.

Getting to the mountain was the easy part. As small as he was, and without being able to rocket himself upwards with his devil fruit, he found himself struggling to actually get up the mountain. Strength wasn’t the problem, but something as simple as a handhold being a couple feet out of reach was enough to stymie him until he found another way up.

By the time he got to the top, he was sweaty, dirty, and tired. He’d scraped his knees and bloodied his fingers before he’d realized that he could still use haki to protect himself from the damage he’d been able to ignore as a logia user.

He sat down hard, drawing in deep breaths. That had unequivocally sucked, but at least he was at the top now. He’d picked the shortest and closest mountain, figuring that anything out of sight from its peak would be out of his reach anyway. Once he had his breath back, he pushed himself to his feet and peered out over the ocean. The wind was much harsher up here, and he had to use a hand to shade his eyes from the sun. The light bouncing off the cresting waves was still bright enough to hurt.

No matter how long he looked, he only saw those waves. It was ocean as far as the eye could see. No other islands, no chain, and no people. Even though he’d kind of expected it, frustration still curled his lips into a frustrated scowl.

What was the point? Why was he here?

Releasing his irritation in a huff, he turned to start the long climb down. It would probably be easier than coming up, since he could use his haki to absorb some of the longer drops from ledge to ledge.

A blurry smudge near the horizon gave him pause. He stopped and peered out at it. Was it a cloud? No, it was getting closer. It was on the water.

His heart lifted. It was a ship.

He threw caution to the wind as he scrambled down the mountainside. His rushed haki didn’t save him from everything, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins numbed the pain. He landed hard on the forest floor, rolled to his feet, and then tore through the trees. He needed to give that ship a reason to stop at this island in case it was just sailing by. A kid waving from the beach would catch anyone’s eye, right?

Panting, bruised, and bleeding, he broke through the tree line, stumbled on the sand, and limped up to the water’s edge.

“Hey,” he croaked at the approaching ship. “Hey!”

He drew breath to yell a third time, but as he did, the wind changed. The ship’s crimson sails filled out, its flags snapped out horizontal, and Ace got a good look at the symbol emblazoned upon them all. His voice died.

A mustached skull and crossbones.

The Roger Pirates.

[ksyescribe]

The Boys™ Speaking A Foreign Language (HQ Edition)

Featuring: Oikawa, Osamu, & Ushijima

Warnings: Some slight manga spoilers!

A/N: This headcanon is centered around these bbs speaking Spanish but I think they can really be applied to any language! I hope you guys enjoy! Also thank you @cttnclouds​ for the Osamu fusion idea you’re literally an angel and i love you.

Oikawa Tōru

Why he learned: 

He moved to Argentina. It’s either learn or get really got at using hand signals.

Learning Process: 

Honestly? Probably tried the whole DuoLingo thing the first few weeks after he got the okay to move to Argentina. But after a while he burnt out.

He probably got up to like the introductory phrases and then fell off. Probably because he had to deal with all the logistical stuff that comes with moving.

(Someone help him cause he literally thought moving would be an easy one two three job :’) Iwa-chan help!)

The next time he remembers that he’s literally going to a new country with a new language is like a month before he moves.

He’s shopping with Iwaizumi for some new clothes and stuff when Iwaizumi just goes “So how’s your Spanish coming along?

freeze frame, his face looks like this: (∩╹□╹∩)

Anyways he really like stress buys like three different Japanese books that he then FORGETS ABOUT for the rest of the month.

He reads them on the flight to Argentina. The only things he learned were how to ask for the time and directions. 

Oh boy, Argentina’s going to be fun :’)

When he uses Spanish in front of you for the first time:

Right so, the first time you see him use his sorry excuse for Spanish is at the little corner coffee shop down the street

Of course everyone’s like eyeing him cause, why is a foreigner here in the hidden gem of the city? But also he’s kinda cute what?

Anyways, you’re minding your own business until you hear the heavily accented Spanish.

And pues, we’re all little chismosos so of course you pay attention to what he’s trying to do (order a coffee but he literally cant remember what the word for sugar is dear god someone help this man)

After cringing you step up with the translator app on your phone open and obviously help him out. 

He’s a little impressed because: 1. Your Spanish is so smooth and flowy it sounds like you’re reciting poetry and 2. Why didn’t he think of the translator app tf??

So you get his order shoot it back to Sandra over the counter in fast Spanish and then order your own stuff before moving off to the side to wait for your coffee.

Oikawa might be an idiot right but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity to ask you to teach him Spanish?? 

I mean you’re cute, you’re obviously a local from the way you were greeting everyone inside the shop, and well, you’re the only person who’s tried to help him out so far and that means a lot to him.

For some odd reason you actually agree? You still don’t know what caused you to say yes. Probably the pitiful look he had when he told you he had to move cause of work and he knew nobody else here.

How you help him with learning/bettering his Spanish:

Honestly, he bitched a lot at the beginning but forcing him to only communicate in Spanish really helped him out. 

So taking him on town trips and having him tell you about what he’s seen or what he wants to do in Spanish really helped him. Also having your friends come with is really fun cause he tries to teach them some Japanese words while they translate that into Spanish.

Also being immersed in the language is a big plus.

But I think the #1 thing that really helped him was watching novelas with you. 

Like he wants to understand what Gabriela is yelling to Sofia about in real time not through the subtitles. (But damn Gabriela really slept with Sofia’s fiance? Wack, that man is not worth it hun)

You know his Spanish’s getting better when you walk into a completely new bread shop that the two of you are visiting and he just goes ahead and orders in fluent Spanish.

Leaves both you and the attendant in shock. But he just comes back and asks you in Spanish too, “Lo hice bien? No me trave verdad?”

The woman literally swoons from the whole encounter. He is now a danger to any woman within five miles of the vicinity. Gets all cocky about it.

Favorite Spanish Word: Alborotar - Disturb? That’s what google says but it’s more like mess up.

Miya Osamu

Why he learned:

Honestly? This Mexican-Japanese fusion place opened up and he just wants to talk to the chef about where he gets his ingredients from because this shit tastes amazing!!

Learning Process:

Went home the first night after eating at that restaurant and bought a year subscription for Rosetta Stone. 

He’s kind of regretting it because like, maybe he should’ve gone with the monthly plan? Fuck he shouldn’t have gotten ahead of himself.

He tries to do an hour of the program a day minimum. There’s some days where the hour like drags on and other days where he’s so pumped that he does more than one hour.

His max was one day where it snowed so hard that nobody could go out so he spent like 10 hours doing Rosetta Stone.

He tried going to like one of the Brazilian stores around his house to try out his Spanish with them but was sorely disappointed to learn that Brazilians do not speak Spanish.

Still got some bomb ass brigadeiros though so who’s the real winner here huh? 

Actually put up a craigslist ad for a Spanish partner. 

It’s up for a whopping 5 minutes before he promptly deleted the ad. 

Instead!! This man signs up for one of those international pen pal services and gets matched with someone fluent in Spanish (it’s you hello).

And it turns out said person is coming to Japan soon for a year abroad?? And they have a basic Japanese foundation?

Yeah dude he lucked out.

Out of all three boys, his alone learning goes pretty well. Gets a good foundation of Spanish.

When he uses Spanish in front of you for the first time:

This one’s so cute!! He actually does it sort of by accident?

He’s made friends with everyone at the fusion restaurant including the chef because he actually managed to hold a decent conversation in Spanish.

His brain just automatically switches to Spanish when he enters the restaurant.

So when you hear him bust out into a full fluent Spanish conversation with the waiter you kind of sit there like: (・о・)

This man even orders and asks you if you want to split a bottle of wine in Spanish.

You could only nod because holy shit. 

Like yes you’ve heard him speak it over the discord calls before but in person?? That’s a whole nother story.

Specially because his pronunciation is so good?? And he has the right accent? It’s so smooth like it just flows naturally from him.

And he can actually roll the r’s god damn sir

How you help him with learning/bettering his Spanish:

So he has a pretty good grasp on the language which means he doesn’t need much help with learning.

But you can help expand his knowledge. Like teaching him about how in some countries/dialects things might be said differently. (Like how there’s 17 ways to say straw. Hondurans say pajilla and that’s all I knew for a bunch of years)

He’ll also need help with learning about a lot of food names. He only knows the basic names, not any special fruits or like combination dishes so that’ll be fun. 

You actually start cooking new latin recipes every Saturday so he can familiarize himself with the cuisine.

Some ingredients are hard to come by but the adventure in finding them is so worth it.

His favorite recipe so far? Making Pollo con Tajadas from Honduras. The Bandeja Paisa from Colombia is a close second.

Favorite Spanish Word: Popote: Straw (in Mexico)

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Why he learned:

His last current concern is literally “he would like to work harder at studying languages”. 

Fair, makes sense. 

But instead of going with a familiar language he just says fuck it time to learn the latin alphabet with Spanish. 

yeah okay why not

Learning Process:

Ushijima is more of a visual learner. 

Which in it’s own makes sense. He’ll probably get a book that has like those floating numbers over items and it tells him what it’s called in Spanish right?

Wrong.

You know what he does?

This man. This 24 year old man. Goes home, opens up Netflix, and puts on... wait for it... DORA.

I kid you not!! Ushijima Wakatoshi will always begin learning a new language by watching children’s shows.

You know why? 

Because he read an article a while back where it said that the best way to start learning languages is by watching children’s shows due to the fact that the shows are literally tailored to teach kids the language.

See what he did there? Y’all thought he was a big dumb dumb but in reality he’s a big smart smart.

Uh, anyways.

He will sit down to watch the children’s shows with a notebook. He takes very good notes, has a Japanese translation for everything.

His show watch list: Dora la Exploradora, Plaza Sesamo, Maya Y Miguel, Go Diego Go, and Handy Manny.

The crazy thing? It actually works. He literally gets his Spanish base from these shows. 

Crazier thing? HE LITERALLY PICKS UP THE CORRECT ACCENTS.

I kid you not bro, he literally somehow managed to sound like a FLUENT speaker. I-

But from there he picks up some more books and audio files to try and increase the complexity of his knowledge.

He’s the best speaker out of the three.

When he uses Spanish in front of you for the first time:

Honestly? He’s been looking for a Spanish partner for a while and he genuinely doesn’t know how to go about it. 

One day though, he overhears you on the phone with your mom. 

He’s seen you before. You’re one of the girls working under the main manager and you’re actually really helpful. If he remembers correctly, you’re the only co-manager that can wrap the compression sleeves just how he likes them.

Anyways, not uh, important.

He’s not one to eavesdrop but, well you’re in the equipment room and he needs to grab one thing. Just a quick in and out. He’ll even turn off his ears.

But then you start speaking like fluent Spanish? And suddenly his ears are very active. 

He doesn’t harass you while you’re on your call. Instead he waits until after practice.

Then he just comes up to you and goes, “Perdóname por molestarte pero, estabas platicándo en Español anterior?”

Kind just sat there like: ◉‿◉ - (￣ー￣) - ⚈ ̫ ⚈

You can’t even speak, you’re still processing that he just spoke Spanish like a natural??? So you just nod.

He launches into a whole talk about how he’s been learning but he needs a speaking partner so that he can get better.

At some point during his whole speech you sit down because your brain IS NOT CATCHING UP.

In the end you agree to become his partner. He’s paying you in food how the hell can you say no?

How you help him with learning/bettering his Spanish:

Like I said before, he’s already good.

You mostly help broaden his knowledge about the culture from Spanish countries and their cultures. A lot of it is through food and the small glimpses of hispanic life from Japan. 

Can’t really teach the customs and traditional stuff unless it’s in person.

You’re actually getting ready to go back home for your once a year family reunion when suddenly this man invites himself to your trip?????

I mean, it’s not a bad idea in the first place but then he offered to pay for your trip and well...

You’re kind of broke and he’s rich so it works alright?

God but going back home? Ultra boosts his spanish.

Not sure if it’s the atmosphere, your family, or just the fact that the country is now in a whole nother language, but this man just adapts. 

It’s really uncanny. 

While he’s here, your family teaches him a lot of Spanish idioms and phrases that don’t translate over well and he starts incorporating them into his every day usage.

Someone on the team got hurt and he literally walked over and rubbed their wrist and went “ Sana, sana, colita de rana. Si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana.”

When you leave his apartment? “Te veo Mateo”

But he also gets to see how unique and beautiful the culture in your country is. 

His favorite part of the trip? Probably your family’s land that’s just surrounded by nature.

He also really liked the traditional shops that the old ladies from the village ran. (They also liked him and pinched his cheeks and called him a big strong boy so maybe that has something to do with it.)

His favorite Spanish word: Topogigio (to-po-i-yo): In Honduras, frozen ice cream (? not really but don’t know how else to describe) that is typically sold in a small bag. Flavors: Fruit juice or traditional ice cream flavors. 

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Fifteen

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: Not beta-read. I hope everyone has had a nice week! Warnings: Some cursing; some angst ... I don’t wanna spoil it for y’all But!! Thank you for all of the likes and reblogs and comments!! I love chatting with y’all 🥰 Summary:  Once I’d seen the notification of Pike’s message, panic had shot through me. I didn’t open it, I didn’t answer it. Whatever conversation he wanted to have with me, surely he’d want to wait until the tea wore off, anyway.

“I thought Boyce told you to go to your quarters.” My hands were already clenched into fists, so I didn’t need to find a way to hide my reaction to hearing that voice again, so close, and so soon. Once I’d seen the notification of Pike’s message, panic had shot through me. I didn’t open it, I didn’t answer it. Whatever conversation he wanted to have with me, surely he’d want to wait until the tea wore off, anyway. I knew that there was no way a shower and working through a poem was going to get my mind off this (though my grasp of Klingon was getting better). I’d gotten changed and gone down to the gym. I was relieved to find it empty. I needed to work off some of the nervous energy that had been pulsing through me for the last hour.

My assumption about what Pike wanted had been wrong. Here he was, behind me, his voice almost stony in its reminder of what the doctor had told me. I raised my hands to steady the punching bag before turning back to face the Captain. “He did,” I nodded, “And I went. He didn’t tell me to stay there.”

Pike’s face was unreadable. That was new -- that was bad. I’d spent so much time around the man that I could usually at least gauge his mood. In private, Pike tended to wear his every thought, every feeling on his sleeve. He was guarding himself now. I couldn’t be too offended - I was, too. We’d crossed a line on Koutov, and I didn’t know what it meant for my professional relationship with the Captain, or my time on the Enterprise - if I had any left. “He told you to get rest,” Pike reminded me. “I can do that when I’m finished here.” Pike took a deep breath, face unmoving, still. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was feeling - irritation? Fury? Hurt? Betrayal? I couldn’t imagine it being anything light or fluffy where I was concerned, not right now. I’d probably know exactly what he was feeling if I’d heeded his message when he’d sent it, but I wasn’t ready to face whatever this was about to be. “I need to speak with you,” He said quietly, “About what happened.” “We can do that when I’m finished here, too.” “Now, lieutenant.” Everything in me was screaming to not be stupid, to not make this worse, but my mouth opened and I answered, “Later, Captain.” I saw Pike’s jaw muscle twitch as he clenched his teeth. I’d seen him frustrated, sure, but I’d never seen him angry. He gave one firm nod before he said, “Fine.” I watched him reach up and unzip his command jacket to reveal a black long-sleeve shirt underneath. “Wh-What are you doing?” I asked, watching him step aside and setting his jacket on the bench where I’d left my water bottle and communicator. “Best two out of three,” Pike answered, tone clipped, “If you win, we talk later. If I win, we talk now.” “You can’t be serious.” “Do I look like I’m joking, lieutenant?” 

He really didn’t. In fact, he had already gone to the mats and taken up a fighting stance. I sighed quietly, mirroring his stance and taking a breath to calm myself. “What counts as a win?” I asked. “Your opponent’s back hitting the mat. I believe you’re familiar with that feeling, lieutenant, considering the last time we had the occasion to spar, you wound up there a number of times. Five, if I’m not mistaken?” The goading had always worked before; Pike and I usually engaged in a fair bit of smack-talk when we were sparring. This was different, though. I really, really didn’t want to talk about what had happened on Koutov; I didn’t want to fight about it, and I certainly didn’t want to fist-fight about it. Did that tea amplify the bad feelings along with the good? The quickest way to end this would be to go for the vulnerable areas - his eyes, his throat, his crotch. But my fighting dirty could mean Pike reciprocating, and I could only imagine that going downhill exceptionally quickly. My contemplation had me so distracted that I nearly missed Pike drawing his right arm back for a hook. I raised both hands on instinct, stepping forward into the oncoming attack. I blocked his arm with my left and bent my right arm in toward my head, using my elbow to deflect any further attack from Pike’s upper body. He reeled away, taking two steps back before bringing his right leg up for a kick. I blocked one strike with my shin, then another, then another, working him a step back with each one. “Are you planning on attacking at all, lieutenant?” Pike snapped. “Why would I tell you?” I retorted before ducking out of the way out of a jab. I caught hold of Pike’s arm with my hands, twisting and turning under it before using his forward momentum to throw him over my shoulder. His back hit the mat with a satisfying thud. “...That’s one,” I added. I hesitated before I held my hand out to Pike. He ignored it, pushing himself off of the ground. “Again,” He ordered. I sighed heavily, resetting my stance. I wasn’t going to argue; I wasn’t going to throw out some line about how if I had kicked his ass once, I was sure to do it again. I was too distracted by the beads of sweat that were breaking out on his forehead. This was probably bad; that line of thinking had gotten me in enough trouble already. My eyes darted to his neck, then his arms before lifting to his face again. “Don’t get cocky, lieutenant,” Pike added, as if I’d said something. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain,” I retorted, “Ya gonna hit me or what?” “I threw the first punch before, I figured we’d switch it up. Ladies first.” “So we’re punching at the same time?” Whoops. So much for not engaging in smack-talk. Pike’s lips quirked into a dangerous little smile. “You feel really good about this, huh?” He asked, lowering his hands and straightening up. I narrowed my eyes, keeping my hands where they were and holding steady even as Pike slowly came closer. “Is this a new tactic?” I asked, nodding toward him. “Feeling very, very good about this--” “It’s not gonna work.” “What isn’t?” “This ‘lulling me into a false sense of security’ bullshit,” I said, gesturing toward where his hands were lowered at his sides, “I’m not buying it-- and I’m a little offended that you think I’m that stupid.�� Pike tipped his head to the side “I don’t think you’re stupid.” “If you don't get your hands up in the next ten seconds, Captain, we’re not talking about shit until either I get my own ship or Una resigns.” Pike was halfway to getting his hands up before I went for a jab-hook combo. He took two steps back as I did, eyes widening a little. I pulled both punches, knowing he wouldn’t be ready for them. I aimed a kick next, but Pike shifted out of the way of it. I wobbled as my foot landed unsteadily on the ground. Pike’s hand landed on my shoulder before he stepped in, hooking his leg around mine. Then he turned and pulled me toward him. I watched him pivot with me, as if we were moving in slow motion. My breath left me in a huff as my back made contact with the mat. Pike stood over me, that dangerous little smile back on his face. “You were saying, lieutenant?” I hesitated before I kicked my foot out, trying to sweep his feet. He hopped out of the way, chuckling and shaking his head. “I don’t think so. Up, come on.” I groaned as I pushed myself off of the floor. I never thought sparring with the Captain would get me in trouble; the man knew all of my moves now. I rolled my shoulders, flexing my fingers before clenching my hands into fists. There was no trash talk from either of us this time; both of us had just a little too much to lose. I don’t know if I was still winded from hitting the mat, burnt out from the tea running my emotions overtime, or just over fighting Pike, but this time, I made stupid decision after stupid decision. Pike went on the offensive - it took four kicks, one feint, two jabs, and I was on the floor. I had to fight the urge to kick my feet in frustration. “Let’s go,” Pike said firmly. I ignored the hand he held out to me as he had mine before. I grabbed my communicator and water bottle, following Pike out of the gym. Pissed as I was, we had a deal. When my head was clear, I wanted a damn rematch. I followed him in silence, expecting to go to the ready room. I stilled when I realized we were outside of his quarters. I bit my lip, eyes darting over Pike’s profile before looking up at down the halls, concerned someone would see us. He waved me inside when the door swooshed open. I stepped inside, fighting the urge to look around. The less time I spent being curious, the less time I’d have to would be in there. Pike walked further inside, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair. Was that wing-back-- No. No, I wasn’t looking. I lowered my eyes to the floor instead, tamping down the urge to look around. I leaned against the wall beside the door, folding my arms over my chest and waiting for Pike to speak. “You’re just going to stand there?” He asked after a moment. “You wanted to talk, so...Talk.” “Would you like to sit?” “I’m fine here.” I heard Pike sigh. “Aren’t you tired of fighting?” He grumbled as he came closer. I could feel the effects of the tea, still; my stomach swirled with nerves as Pike’s feet entered my field of vision. “That’s rich coming from you.” He hummed, reaching out and plucking my water bottle and communicator from my hands. I let them go; I doubted that Pike and I were about to start sparring in his quarters again, but I already mourned not having something to hold onto or fidget with. I heard him set them aside before he was standing in front of me again. “... What happened on Koutov,” He started, and oh, god, I already wanted to melt into the floor, “Was not ideal.” “An astute summation, Captain.” I saw Pike’s hand twitch by his side before he pressed on, “I recognize that we were -- and are -- under the effects of something that heightens our natural feelings.” I lifted my eyes to his, then, unable to help myself. I was wary, but so curious. “I also recognize that I crossed a boundary with you, and I’m sorry. It was unfair, and unprofessional, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” How was he being so goddamn level-headed now when he’d been so full of vim and vigor in the gym? “...You didn’t,” I managed after a moment, shaking my head, “And I’m sorry that I crossed that line as well. I-- I should never have touched you.” Pike swallowed thickly. “I told you that that was alright,” He pointed out. I uncrossed my arms and waved off the excuse. “Be that as it may, it didn’t exactly help what followed.” I could still picture it - still feel it, Pike’s hand sliding under my collar. His eyes were darting down now, to my lips, my throat. I felt myself shiver before I averted my eyes. This was a bad idea, this was a really bad idea. I should’ve stayed in my quarters and taken a shower and worked on some Klingon, damnit. “Lieutenant…” Pike’s hands settled on either side of me on the wall, caging me in. “If it weren’t for Mr. Spock and Number One…” Pike stepped a little closer, our chests brushing; my eyelids fluttered closed as he rested his temple against mine, “If they hadn’t come back…” Our cheeks brushed and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Y-Yes?” I managed. Pike didn’t answer, just turned his head. I peeked up at him as I felt his nose brush against mine. He’d closed his eyes; his brow was wrinkled in that sweet way it always got when he was thinking something through. “Wait,” I managed. Pike’s eyes opened and he leaned away to get a better look at me. “What’s wrong?” He murmured. “Is… Is this the tea, or is it me?” I winced as I asked it, damning my need for reassurance, but I had to know. I couldn’t just string my hopes along any more only to wind up back in my quarters later, reconsidering a transfer to the Hiawatha. Pike’s brow furrowed again as he looked over my face. “Oh,” He dipped his head back down as he seemed to realize something, raising a hand and cupping my cheek gently, “You have no idea what you do to me.” For a moment, we were waiting one another out just as we had waited for the first punch in the gym. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind, but I was grappling with indecision. Everything in me was alight with how close we were, how gently he was touching me; I could just imagine the unimpressed little frown Una would fix me with; Spock’s raised brow and his mutter of, “Fascinating.”; my ears were ringing with what Pike had just uttered, its sincerity; his gaze was drifting to my lips, his tongue was darting out to wet his own-- I surged up, pressing my lips to his, warm and chaste. I immediately started to panic, because -- Koutovian tea or not, I was kissing my Captain. But before I could lean all the way away, apologize profusely and turn tail, Pike’s other hand lifted from the wall, snaking around my back and drawing me even closer into his chest. Reassured that he wanted this, that I could touch, I raised a hand to cup the back of his neck. Pike hummed, tipping his head to the side and sliding his lips sweetly over mine. My stomach gave a triumphant little flip. Pike liked this. Pike liked this, and he liked me. I rested my other hand hesitantly on Pike’s shoulder, curling my fingers possessively in the fabric. Pike rested his forehead back against mine as our lips parted; I couldn’t help my leaning up to chase another peck or two. He chuckled softly, and I felt the sound shoot right down to my toes. “That answer your question?” I pretended to consider for a moment. “I may need further clarification, Captain,” I said, opening my eyes. He grinned down at me. “I’d be happy to assist, lieutenant,” He murmured. Tag list: @angels-pie​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ ​

[sunmoonandeddie]

thanks for the memories

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,002

summary: Bucky’s lived a long life.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.  Angst with a happy ending.

a/n:  So like.  This is kinda short.  At least it feels like it is.  It’s also an idea from that fake fic ask meme I did.  But I cried writing this.  Let me know what you think!

Bucky took a deep breath as he came to a stop.  The trek became harder and harder to make every week, but nothing short of death could stop him from coming.  A bouquet of red roses hung from his hand.  The same flowers he brought every time.

“Hi, angel,” he said, his voice cracking.  It was the first time he’d spoken in a few days.

After all, his children and his friends were dead.  He didn’t have the energy to make friends with the new members of the Avengers or anyone else.  The most human interaction he got nowadays was when his grandkids called once a week to catch up.

But there was no one he wanted to talk to except for you.

It frustrated him, that he didn’t have the strength to make it more than once a week anymore.  He used to come every day.  Sometimes more.  It was his favorite place in the world.

It had concerned Sam when he was still alive.  But he didn’t know you.  He didn’t understand like Steve had before he’d died.

And now here he was, finally catching up with all of his loved ones.  His skin had wrinkled, his hearing had partially gone.  His bones ached with every step he took.

The head stone in front of him didn’t give him an answer, but it didn’t need to.  He could feel your presence even just standing here.  It was the only place the voices in his head went quiet and he could just be.

Knowing that it would be a pain to get up later, he eased himself down onto the soft grass.  His joints creaked painfully as he moved to rest against the head stone.  Running his fingers across the weathered stone, he read your name out loud.  “You know, I’m still mad that they didn’t give you my last name,” he said with a faint chuckle.  “But I guess the government doesn’t recognize elopements in Austria.”  The early winter wind brought a chill with it that went straight to his bones.  Seasons nowadays just weren’t like they used to be.  “Doesn’t matter.  You’re still Mrs. Barnes to me.”

If he focused enough, he could picture you sitting next to him.  You’d have that pretty green dress that you’d worn for him when all the soldiers and nurses got to go out dancing.  Your hair had been perfectly curled, left unpinned for once.  It was nice to see you out of your uniform.

“I wish you were here,” he said, tears springing to his eyes.  “I feel so alone.  Stevie’s gone, Sam’s gone.  Nat’s gone.”  He picked at one of the roses in the bouquet, tearing off the petals absentmindedly.  “Even the kids are gone.”

His beautiful children.  He’d never dated another woman, never got married.  But after he’d retired as an active member of the Avengers and took on a position as a trainer, he’d finally gotten to settle down.  The questions about his mental stability had been answered, and he’d been declared fit to raise a child.

It was then that he adopted Brienne, Alexei, Poppy, Mateo, and Eliza.  His little war orphans.  There’d been more that he’d fostered, giving them a home until they found their forever family.

It had been years since they’d died, leaving him with five more permanent holes in his heart.

Their children, his grandchildren, had all scattered around the globe, chasing their dreams and settling down.  They all called at least once a week, visiting several times a year, but still.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never gotten that stupid serum,” he said as he looked out over the head stones that surrounded him.

He’d had to fight to have you buried in Brooklyn.  You were originally buried in your hometown, but your family had agreed to have you moved to the city after he’d explained the situation to them.  You were buried with the rest of the Barnes.  His mother and father were buried in the plot to your left, and his sister, Rebecca, was buried in the plot to your right.

And when he died, he’d be buried right next to you as your husband.

“I keep asking myself why I survived the serum and you didn’t,” he murmured, his clouded blue eyes drifting up to the dreary September sky.  You always did love the rain.  You told him it brought new beginnings.  It washed away the wrongs from before.  “I think the only reason I’ve lived this long is for our kids.  So I could find them and take care of them.  Give them a home just like we always wanted to.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, angel?”  He was sitting in a dirty cell with twenty other men, but he was only paying attention to you.  You were being held in the cage right next to his, and the bars were far enough apart that he could slip his hand through to hold your hand.  His thumb brushed over the little band on your left hand ring finger.  It was covered in dirt and grime from being stuck in this prison for who knows how long now, the diamond unable to shine.

You hated it.  You hated that your ring was dirty.  And sure, it wasn’t much.  Bucky had never had a lot of money, and he’d spent what he had on this little ring at a jewelry store in Vienna when they’d passed through a few months before.

It was there in Vienna that you two had found a little chapel and officially became a married couple, despite your families not being there and the priest not understanding English.  Dum Dum ended up translating for them, and they’d left the church as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.

“There’s gonna be a lot of kids without families after this,” you whispered, a melancholy in your voice that he only heard when you two were alone.  You didn’t like the men seeing you upset, said it wasn’t fitting of a nurse.  I’m supposed to be the one making all y’all feel better, Bucky, you’d said months ago when he’d asked why.  The other men in the cell were asleep, and you’d finally been able to let down your mask.

He hummed, leaning his head against the cold bars, trying to get as close to you as possible.  The sweet smell of your shampoo was long gone.  “Yeah.”

“Can we…  I think…”  You swallowed as you tried to find the right words.  “When you bring me home to Brooklyn, can we adopt a bunch of them?”

“Yeah?” He said, sitting up a little straighter as a smile tugged at his lips.  The first in days.  “You wanna have a bunch of little babies runnin’ around?”

And your smile was so sweet and so real that his heart just melted.  “Wanna have a family with you, Buck.”  You reached up to run your fingers through his greasy hair.  “We’ll have a little house with a big yard and a porch, so we can watch all of ‘em run around.  And I’ll finally get to meet Steve, and we’ll have him over for dinner every week.”

His heart swelled as the picture formed in his mind.  He could see it so clearly.  It was so close but so far away.

You two just had to survive this damn war.

“I’ll give you all the little babies you want,” he said with a warm smile.  “We’ll singlehandedly raise all of Europe’s war orphans.”

The two of you froze as you heard the door opening.  There were several sets of footsteps and the jingling of keys, and he knew what was about to happen next.

He could only hope that they were there for him this time, and not you.

“No…  No, no, no,” you whimpered as you clutched onto his hand tighter than before.  You were still so weak from when they’d taken you for the experiments the day before, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they came for Bucky again, but you just wanted to scream and kick and fight until they left him alone.

He’d already gone through the injections twice before you even went once.  You’d seen how he’d changed.  He’d come back bigger, more muscular.  He healed quicker from the little scratches that came from sleeping on a concrete floor.  He didn’t require as much food and water as before.

You, however…  You just seemed to get weaker and weaker with each injection.  No matter how much of his food that he gave you, it didn’t seem to help.

The group of men appeared before you, unlocking the cell to reach in and grab him.  He didn’t bother to fight them, knowing that they would only threaten you to get him to comply.

But you clung to his hand, screaming at the men as you tried to hang on.  The other soldiers were waking to your protests, growing more alert as they realized what was happening.

“LET HIM GO!” You shouted at them, your throat growing hoarse.  Tears streamed down your cheeks, revealing your skin underneath the dirt that covered you.  “STOP IT!”

If Bucky wasn’t so terrified of what was at the end of the hall, he would wax poetic about how you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen even while sobbing your eyes out.

The cry you let out when his hand was torn from yours was so guttural and raw it made several of the men flinch back.  You were standing on shaky legs, your knees threatening to buckle the longer that you stood.  Your arm was reaching through the spaces between the bars despite the fact that he was way out of reach and almost out of sight.  “BUCKY!”

He kept trying to look back at you, wanting to savor the image of you so that he could keep it in his mind until this round of injections was over.  He was happy to see Morita moving to comfort you, helping you back down to the ground to keep you from hurting yourself.

Maybe he’d think of your wedding day instead, and the way you sounded when you told him you loved him.

Yeah.  That sounded better than thinking of you crying over him.  He’d think of that.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d sat out in the cemetery, drifting in and out of his memories.

He’d lived a long life.  A good one, despite the fact that there were some pretty rough chunks.

The only thing that he regretted was that he wasn’t able to do more to help you.  He hadn’t been able to stop those HYDRA dicks from injecting you with the serum.  It had been too much for your body to handle, a stronger version of what they’d given him.  They’d thought that you’d need more as a woman, according to Howard Stark.

Which was just complete bullshit.  You were the strongest person he’d ever met.

He hadn’t been allowed to go home with your body.  He hadn’t gotten to meet anyone from your family until after he’d broken out of HYDRA’s control back in 2014.

And now, over a century later, he was ready to rest.

Truthfully, he’d been ready for rest for a long time, but the serum had kept him from dying.

But he could feel the end coming closer.  It was his time.

He didn’t even have the energy to get up and go back to his empty house.

A bit of sun broke through the clouds, warming his face.  It was almost like a sign.  You were there.  You were ready to receive him with open arms.

He leaned his head back against the headstone, shivering as his bald spot rested against the cool marble.  “Whenever you want me, angel.  I’m ready.”

The next day, Jamie sighed into the phone as she climbed out of her car, heading into the cemetery.  “No, he wasn’t at home.  I told him I was gonna be coming today.  Maybe he forgot.”

As much as she hated to admit it, despite the super soldier serum that had kept him alive so long, her grandfather was growing older.  His strength had been the first to go, followed by his hearing.  It wouldn’t be too much of a shock if he’d started to lose his memory, too.

God, she hoped not.  As much as her grandfather loved her and her siblings and cousins, she knew that his memories of you were what kept him going.�� His loving wife, torn from him too soon, that wanted to create your own family with him.

And even though none of them had ever gotten to meet you, Jamie’s mom and aunts and uncles all said that you were their mother.

“I’m at the cemetery now,” she said as she headed for the Barnes’s family plots.  Her cousin, named after you, was supposed to be coming to visit with her tomorrow.  “I don’t—”  She broke off as she spotted him, breaking into a run.  “Grandpa?!”

Jamie could hear her cousin’s voice shouting through the phone, demanding to know what was going on, but she let it fall to the ground as she sank to her knees.

James Buchanan Barnes was dead at two hundred and fourteen years old.

He was resting peacefully against your head stone, the red roses he always brought hanging limply from his hand.

He looked… at peace.  The tension that had always resided in his shoulders had dissipated.

He was at rest.

“Buck?”

Bucky hummed, his eyes still closed as he began to stir.

A familiar giggle filled the air.  “Bucky!”

A giggle he hadn’t heard in almost two centuries.

His limbs felt heavy in the best way as he shifted, the mattress beneath him cool.  The sheets twisted around him, keeping him warm without stifling him.

“My love…”  A soft touch along his cheek, a caress that he’d dreamt about every night.  Dainty fingers that used to be calloused from the hard work of war.  “It’s time to wake up.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the soft light of the room somehow not making him recoil in shock.

“There he is.”

His eyes popped open as he realized that you were leaning over him.  The prettiest smile he’d ever seen was painted on your lips.  Lips he’d spent hours kissing.  “Angel?  You’re…  You’re…”

You simply nodded, shushing him as you urged him to relax.  “I’m here.  I’m here.  It’s okay.”

“You look just as gorgeous as you did back in forty-three,” he croaked.  The smile he was rewarded with warmed him down to his toes, calming his soul in a way he hadn’t felt since the war.  He pushed himself up suddenly, blue eyes wide.  “There was never anyone else.  Only you.”

“I know, I know,” you reassured him, pushing his hair back.  “I wouldn’t have been upset with you if there was.  All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Couldn’t ever look at another gal that way,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.  “Not when I’d already found the love of my life.  No one could ever compare to you.”

Your laugh was teary as you pressed your lips to his tentatively, almost like you were scared to.  “I’ve waited so long for you.  I’ve missed you so much.”

Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat as his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you in for another searing kiss.  Neither of you noticed that you were crying until you tasted the salty tears on your lips.  “I’ve missed you, too.”  He sniffled.  “All I ever wanted to do was make you proud.”

“Silly boy,” you whispered, nose nudging against his.  “That’s all you’ve ever done.  You gave me children even when I couldn’t be there to help raise them.”

His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, realizing that it was the master bedroom of his house in Brooklyn.  It was decorated differently, but definitely still his house.  “Is this…”

Nodding, you slipped out of the bed, holding your hand out for him to take.  “I’ve been waiting for you here since forty-three.”

He took your hand without hesitation, allowing you to pull him out of the bed and out the bedroom door.  A fondness creeped into his smile as he saw the photos lining the halls.  Pictures of you and your family, of your children, of him.  Never before seen photos of you with the kids.

“Come on, my love,” you said, already two steps down the staircase.  Your eyes were bright as you stared up at him.  “We’ve got people waiting for us.”

The fourth stair from the bottom still creaked, and it was then that he realized the body he was in.  His hands were young again.  His muscles didn’t strain with every step.  His bones didn’t creak.

He was young again.

“Yes, you have your hair back,” you teased, reading his mind like you always did.  Your voice was clear as a bell, the best thing he’d heard in decades.

His heart caught in his throat as you pulled him towards the back door, the sound of voices growing louder.  “Are…”

Opening up the back door in the kitchen, you revealed all of his friends and family that he’d lost over the years.  Alexei and Eliza were playing a pickup game of football with Sam, Peter, and the Howling Commandos.  Steve was manning the grill, chatting with his father and Mateo about who knows what.  Natasha was sharing a plate of fresh strawberries with Poppy.  Peggy was standing off to the side with his mother, Rebecca, and Brienne like it was just a random Sunday.

There were so many others that he thought he’d lost over the years.  Loved ones he never thought he’d see again.

His eyes pricked with fresh tears as your hand slipped into his, squeezing.  A reassurance that you were there by his side.

And you’d never leave it again.

[spaceskam]

On The Side Of The Road

for a late day 6 of @isobelevansappreciation​: emotions/healing

Summary: After picking up Alex from the military base, Isobel and Alex get stranded on the side of the road and encounter someone with not-so-great intentions.

Warning: creepy guy with creepy intentions, mild violence, trauma, fun stuff like that

ao3

Isobel hated every single thing about this.

“It’ll be fun, he said. Bonding, he said. You have so much in common, he said,” Isobel grumbled before roughly kicking the flat tire that decided to pop when they were nowhere near anything and there was no cell service.

“Isobel,” Alex said calmly, “I’m going to change it, don’t worry. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching the Airman run his fingers through his hair a little too dramatically for the situation. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Alex, but she didn’t know the guy well enough to spend a five-hour car drive with him and she didn’t really trust anyone in the military because it was easy to assume they all had a power fetish. But it was for Michael so she’d agreed. Now she was regretting it.

This weekend was their 23rd birthday and the one single thing Michael wanted was his boyfriend to come visit him. After some last-minute arrangements and a little bit of influence, Isobel had convinced Alex’s boss to let him have the weekend off. But Alex was apparently scared of planes (which was downright comical for someone in the Air Force to be scared of planes, by the way) and Michael couldn’t afford to take the day off of work to go get him, so that left Isobel.

She hadn’t expected to run over something sharp enough to pop her tire though.

"Where is your spare?" Alex asked, already digging through her trunk.

"I'm already using my spare," Isobel said, gesturing towards the back wheel. He stared at her for a solid 30 seconds in disbelief.

"You're joking," he said blandly. Isobel raised her eyebrows to say she absolutely wasn't and that's why she was so irritated. She didn't want to be stuck with him in the middle of the goddamn desert. "Right."

Isobel watched in veiled amusement as Alex felt his pockets and pulled out his phone, squinting as he held it up to try to find signal. She watched him walk around in search and spent that time trying to figure out what exactly Michael saw in him.

He was handsome enough, she guessed, but he'd gone from a fashion disaster in high school to a military man with unflatteringly short hair and plain clothes that could be on any man in the entire US. The few conversations she'd had with Alex had told her nothing about him, even their car ride consisted of short answers. Imagining that with Michael didn't make sense.

Isobel was broken from her daze as he jumped onto the hood of the car and walked to stand on the roof.

"What are you doing?!" Isobel yelled. He ignored her, squinting up at the sun as he held the phone to his ear.

"Guerin? Hey, can you hear me?" Alex said into the phone, voice the same exact tone as it was when he spoke to her. She didn't like that either. She saw the way Michael melted when he thought about him. He deserved sweetness too. "Shit, look, if you can hear me, Isobel's tire is blown. We're 40 miles northwest of Roswell. I'll try to send a text."

Alex ended the call and stayed posted up on the roof of the car as he typed out a message, clearly posing as if he had a photoshoot no one else knew about before jumping off. Isobel stared dully at him.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" she asked. 

"No," he said, shrugging off his jacket so he was left in a plain white tank top and plain baggy jeans.

Clearly, she was supposed to see something in him that she saw in herself. Michael always said how similar they were, but she knew damn well she wasn't that closed off and boring. Or, at least, she hoped.

Alex's phone dinged with a message after a few minutes of him pointlessly inspecting the tire and he looked at it with a bored expression.

"Michael said he's on his way, but it'll probably take him at least an hour to find us," Alex explained, pushing himself to an upright position again. 

"Oh, so we can call him Michael as long as he can't hear?" Isobel asked. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I've only heard you call him Guerin to his face.”

Alex didn’t reply as he kicked the tire and then sighed. She waited for him to respond, but it didn’t happen and he just leaned against the car. Isobel stared at him and he stared at the ground. The silence seemed to drag on as the sun just beamed down with unforgiving heat, but Alex easily seemed to be in a spotlight. She hadn’t really noticed that he was attractive before since he wasn’t her type (and she definitely wasn’t his), but he seemed to glow like a model under the sun. His skin was tanned and his biceps were sculpted. She could understand why Michael liked at least that.

Isobel was nearly sweating by the time she said, “You know, Michael wanted us to bond, but you don’t talk very much.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, what’s it like being queer in the military?” Isobel asked immediately. He shot her an icy glare that made her have to hold back a smile that, after hours of being locked in a car with him, she got a reaction. “What, gonna try to deny that?”

“I didn’t deny shit.”

“Okay, then what’s it like?” she prodded. Alex huffed a dry laugh and shook his head.

“How about you tell me what it’s like to be white and thriving off Daddy’s money in the suburbs?” Alex shot back. Isobel raised an unbothered eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you know a little about that too?”

“My dad’s got money,” Alex said, a cynical smile on his face as he held out his hand as if that was enough explanation for the other part he didn’t quite fit, “Not me.”

“Fair enough,” Isobel agreed. Alex took a deep, grounding breath and then to sit on the hood of the car. Isobel gave him a few seconds before following and sitting beside him.

“Oh my God,” he groaned softly.

“You know, you should learn to like me,” Isobel said, “According to Michael, we’re very similar.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Neither do I.”

They sat on the car in silence again. The cynicism seemed to boil between them as they waited for Michael, so, when a truck pulled up in front of them, they both let out sighs of relief. Except, when the dust settled, it was clear that it wasn’t Michael and the figure of a man sat in the driver’s seat instead.

“Get in the car,” Alex said, eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter and stared at the truck, “Lock the doors.”

“What? It’s not that big of a deal, he’s probably just offering help,” Isobel said. Alex shook his head.

“Get in the car and lock the doors” Alex repeated, sliding off the hood.  

Isobel didn’t move as he walked with a confident air, shoulders back and a cocky swagger in his step. Michael liked to imitate that walk when he was pretending to be big and bad, but he was always comically bad at pulling it off. Alex, on the other hand, actually managed to look at least semi-intimating and entirely capable when he did it. She might’ve been impressed if she wasn’t scared that would piss off the stranger in the truck.

The guy got out of his truck with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking perfectly normal and not at all scary if not for that one little fact. Alex seemed to spot that right away and angled himself so his left side was closer towards the car.

“Y’all need some help?” he asked.

“Thanks, but we have someone a few minutes out,” Alex responded.

“You sure about that?” the guy asked, eyes going to Isobel, “‘Cause I bet the pretty little lady you got there might not wanna wait in this heat. You really gonna make her wait?”

“Yeah,” Alex said cooly, not moving as he provided a block between the two of them, “I am, actually.” 

Isobel had her nose scrunched up in disgust, but she appreciated Alex’s dismissive attitude. That was the first time she could see herself in him like Michael always said.

“Thank you, but you can go now,” Alex said.

“I can stay until your ride gets here,” the guy said. Isobel silently questioned if Alex was psychic or just so paranoid and it was simply a coincidence that he was right.

“No, we’re fine,” Alex said firmly.

The guy’s eyes found Isobel again and she just kept her stern face of disgust. She’d decided a long time ago not to be scared of men anymore. Sure, the drifter was scary and so were all the other creepy men she encountered on a daily basis, but she had learned how to take care of herself. She refused to give them the satisfaction.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” he asked Isobel, tilting his head in her direction. She gave a smile and waved goodbye wordlessly. He laughed and went to take a step closer.

Alex put a hand on his chest before he could get around him, not-so-kindly pushing him back. Another check in the box of what Michael saw in him.

“Oh, c’mon,” the guy said.

“Fuck off,” Alex told him, unmoving. 

“You heard the man,” Isobel said, trying not to sound too playful despite her utter enjoyment at watching Alex shut him down, “Fuck off.”

“I’m just tryin’ to help, you don’t have to be so ungrateful,” the guy said, fiddling with his pockets a little more. Isobel watched his hands carefully and hoped this wasn’t about to turn into a shitty horror movie. She didn’t sign up for that. She barely signed up for picking up Alex in the first place.

The guy took a step forward again and Alex again pushed him away. However, the guy took his hands out of his pockets and pushed him back. Isobel sat up straight, adrenaline pumping through her as she tried to figure out how to prevent her brother’s boyfriend from getting beaten to a pulp.

By the time the first two punches were thrown, she slid off the hood of the car and ran over to them. She grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him away and stood between them, letting Alex still glare over her shoulder as he wiped a bit of blood from beneath his nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Isobel snapped over her shoulder at the strange man, “You just pulled over looking for a fight?!” 

He gave a cold little laugh, all too similar to what that drifter had sounded like that night almost 10 years before, and he reached out to grab her waist. And Isobel realized that it had nothing to do with looking for a fight from Alex at all.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, squirming just enough to get where she could elbow him between his legs. He groaned, letting her fall to the ground pathetically. Her heart was thudding in her ears and she was breathing heavily, but she managed to scramble to her feet quick enough to not show any ounce of weakness to the stranger.

Alex had grabbed him by the shirt collar while he was down and dragged him back to his truck, slamming the door. Isobel spat on the hood so she could at least do something.

“Man, y’all are fuckin’ crazy,” the stranger said as he quickly started up his truck. A whole slew of obscenities came to Isobel’s mind in response, but her heavy breathing only allowed her to hold up her middle finger. Alex stayed right by the truck until it peeled off.

Once he was completely out of sight and the initial adrenaline started to fade, Isobel felt like she couldn’t breathe. Tears burned at her eyes and that stupid, stupid fear that he was going to come back for her burned in her mind. With the drifter, even after watching Max tackle him to where his head slammed against a rock and even after watching Michael dig a grave for an hour straight, she always felt like he was going to come back. She’d finally gotten over that feeling.

“Isobel?” Alex asked, voice soft for the very first time, “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry I let him grab you like that, but he’s gone now.”

She struggled to find her breath, struggled to hear him properly, struggled to do anything but feel overwhelmed with fear. Alex held his hands out in front of her eyes, a silent way to ask if he could touch her. She gave a short little nod despite not wanting him. She wanted her brothers, but they weren’t here. Alex would have to do.

Instead of a hug though, Alex gently grabbed her arm and led to help her sit down on the sand. They both sat criss-cross across from each other, their knees touching. He still had blood under his nose, but he didn’t seem to mind as he looked her in the eye.

“You’re allowed to feel this way,” he said and he held her hand, just being there until she was able to calm herself down.

She felt so stupid. Logically, she was overreacting. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Would she still feel like this if she didn’t have that experience with that drifter? Would still she feel overwhelmed? Would she still want Michael and Max as much as she did? But no matter how stupid she felt, Alex kept saying that she was allowed to cry and overreact and be this way. He wasn’t freaked out. He didn’t ask questions. He just told her it was valid.

And she really understood what Michael meant about them being similar.

Eventually, her crying subsided and she calmed down enough to at least pretend to be normal. She would probably hug Michael once he got there until she felt all the way better, but she was okay.

“Thanks,” Isobel said, drying her eyes with her hand that wasn’t still gripping his.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. She looked at him for a moment and weighed the options of telling Alex about the drifter so he would understand a little better. It was obviously not her place to tell the actual aftermath of it, but she could tell him the first part.

“On our 13th birthday, Michael, Max, and I went out camping and I left the tent to go pee, so I was by myself. Then this guy came out of nowhere and grabbed me and started dragging me away, I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she admitted. Alex didn’t show much emotion other than his eyebrows raising slightly. “Max and Michael had to fight him off. I was so fucking helpless and I told myself I would never be helpless again. But I guess I still am. What a great 10th anniversary reminder, am I right?”

“What are you talking about, you’re not helpless. You got that guy to let go of you and, if I wasn’t here, you probably would’ve easily beat the shit out of him yourself. You were back on your feet in seconds. You’re a fighter, that’s what fighters do,” Alex said. Isobel shook her head, looking over to the side. “Hey, I’m serious. That wasn’t proof that you’re still helpless, that was proof that you’ve grown. Trauma doesn’t go away, but you’ve clearly done a damn good job at making it your bitch. You held your ground until you were safe and that’s the best you could’ve possibly done, so don’t beat yourself up about it. You did great. I’m proud of you.”

Isobel huffed a little laugh, “How many years of therapy have you had?”

Alex scrunched up his nose and held up his hand, his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. Isobel shook her head through another laugh before sniffling. They sat there for a few more minutes before Isobel eventually got up so she could go fix her makeup and not look like a crying mess.

“Can we not tell Michael about this?” she asked cautiously, “Like, we can tell him the situation, but not the part where he grabbed me? Because I know him and Max and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Absolutely, no problem,” Alex said, “Don’t really wanna deal with telling him that either.”

Isobel sat in the driver’s seat and Alex sat in the passenger seat, each of them touching up their face in respective ways. Both of them made a few small comments here and there, keeping the conversation light and the mood high. This day would just be their little secret.

By the time Michael pulled up, it was easy to pretend like nothing really happened and that the tight hug she gave him was her simply being dramatic over her busted tire.

[mksc77]

A little World Series celebration/Halloween fic :) Hope y’all like it! 💜

"Hi, you guys," Sharon greeted as Provenza and Patrice followed Andy onto the back porch. She nodded at the bottle of wine in Patrice's hands. "Ahh, this is why we're friends. You bring gifts."

"I got red so Louie wouldn't drink half of it," Patrice murmured as she gave her the bottle. "I've gained a few pounds with all of this isolation and have been drinking more than normal, so I'm trying to cut back."

"So have I," Sharon agreed, "but tonight will have to be an exception. My nerves are already shot, and the game hasn't even started." October had been a crazy month for sports. Sharon nor Andy were basketball fans, but with a local team playing in the NBA finals, they'd watched most of the games and had been excited for a Lakers championship. And admittedly had the best sex they'd ever had afterward. The World Series had started just a few days later, and it seemed like they'd spent most of the month glued to the TV. With neither couple having ventured out in the last week or so, they'd decided that a socially-distanced, outdoor viewing of the game together would be reasonably safe.

Andy was watching the pregame coverage on TV. "Damn, I miss Vin Scully. Baseball still hasn't been the same without him."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Oh, god, here we go. There better not have to be a seventh game, because I don't think I can handle another night of Scully mourning."

"The man was a legend!" Andy protested.

"Honey, it's been a couple of years since he retired. I think it's about time to get over it."

"Blasphemy," Andy muttered.

By the Fifth Inning, the game was looking grim. "I feel like I'm watching a little girl's t-ball game," Provenza complained.

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "You clearly never saw any of Emily's games. She was probably the only five-year-old in history to turn t-ball into a contact sport. I was actually relieved when she was a little older and decided to give up other activities to put more time into ballet."

Andy shook his head. "Shocking."

"Wait a minute, what's happening?" Provenza asked when the Rays coach trotted out to the pitcher's mound. "Surely, he's not taking out Snell? He's only allowed two hits all night!"

Andy shrugged. "I wouldn't complain. He's made our guys look like they've never held a bat before."

Provenza sipped his wine. "I'm not complaining, either, but this would have to be the dumbest call—yep, there he goes. This is about to be a gamechanger…He's putting Anderson in? He's been pathetic all month!"

"Did Cash bet against his own team or something?" Andy asked. "It's like he's trying to lose this game."

True to their prediction, Betts almost immediately hit a double down the left field line. After a wild pitch and another hit, the score had turned from a 1-0 deficit to a 2-1 lead in just a few plays.

"There are the boys I know and love," Sharon commented, finishing off her glass of wine and pouring another.

By the last inning, with the Dodgers up by two and one out away from winning the game, Provenza massaged two fingers against his chest. "I don't know if it's the wine or this game that's giving me heartburn. Do you know where my little purple pills are?" He asked Patrice.

"Yeah, in the cabinet right beside your little blue ones," Patrice answered, without hesitation.

"A simple yes would've sufficed," Provenza grumbled.

Andy laughed, and Sharon just focused on her wine glass, trying not to laugh, herself. "I hope there's some Xanax in there somewhere, too," Sharon whispered to Patrice.

"No, that's in my purse." Patrice rolled her eyes. "I'm not above crushing some into his wine glass when he leaves it unattended."

Rusty looked confused. "What's the big deal about blue pills—oh, gross," he whined, connecting the dots.

"Okay, come on, one more strike," Sharon murmured, looking back at the TV. "All right!" Everyone except Rusty jumped up and cheered, yelling and high-fiving. Rusty didn't get the baseball obsession and just watched.

"As much as I'd love to stay and celebrate, it's time to shift the focus to a different variety of balls," Provenza said, indicating for Patrice to get up. "If we don't get home soon, I really might need one of those blue pills, but we're celebrating, one way or the other."

"Do we have to hear this?" Rusty complained.

"It can't be unheard," Andy lamented. "There goes any desire I had to celebrate." Patrice's Viagra jab had been funny, but the following dialogue had been a boner-killer if he'd ever heard one.

"Ewwww, not you, too!" Rusty fled into the house before his gag reflex could be tested any further.

Sharon, a little affected by the night's wine consumption, just laughed helplessly at Provenza's eagerness to get home and Andy's and Rusty's disgust. When the Provenzas were gone, she ran a bath and got one more glass of wine. She'd expected Andy to join her in the bath, as she hadn't thought he'd been serious about his own desire to "celebrate" being gone, but when she got out and found him reading in bed, she was a little disappointed. Still wrapped in her robe, she nibbled at his ear and moved to his neck, thinking she just needed to get things started herself, but Andy shook his head. "Not tonight. I won't be able to do anything without Provenza being in my head, and that's just weird."

"Oh, come on, Andy, the Dodgers just won the World Series for the first time in decades, and in the same month as an NBA championship! When will we have this chance again?"

"I don't know, but not tonight," Andy answered dramatically.

"You can call all the shots," Sharon pleaded. "Whatever you want."

Andy shook his head, unmoved.

Sharon shrugged. "All right, fine." The question wasn't whether or not they were having sex tonight, she would see to it that they did, the question was just how to get there. Her first impulse was to reach for the navy chemise that he could never resist, but something about the situation wanted her to make it a little more challenging than that. Instead, she pulled one of Andy's Dodger's t-shirts over her head and slipped on a pair of panties she knew he loved. "I'm cleaning out my closet tomorrow, so I'm going to go ahead and rearrange some things if we're not doing anything else."

Seeing that Sharon was just in one of his old t-shirts, Andy was relieved that she wasn't going to try to seduce him, so he let his guard down. He went back to his book, but couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. Damn, those legs. They fucked him over every damn time. He admittedly quivered a bit when she stood on her tiptoes and reached for something at the top of her closet and he could see the lacy, rose-colored panties he loved for her to wear peeking out from under the hem of his t-shirt. Closing his book, his attention was now on her entirely, as he still felt safe from her trying to get him in the mood. He could just enjoy the view and leave it at that. Or not. He was done for when she bent over to put something on a bottom shelf. "All right, fine, you win. Let's do it."

Sharon turned to look at him, wide-eyed and the picture of innocence. "What? I think if I've put on an old t-shirt and am cleaning out my closet, you can assume that the moment has passed."

"Please," it was Andy's turn to beg, "whatever you want. And I'll make sure you finish, one way or the other."

Sharon pretended to think it over. "I mean, if you really want to…"

"Yes. Please. And I'll do the dishes and laundry for a week. And I'll wear that godawful chimney sweep costume for Halloween."

"Deal." Sharon bit back a smile as she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Did she know this man, or what? He was so damn easy.

The next morning, Sharon woke up in Andy's arms, which didn't happen all that often. She wasn't a cuddly sleeper, much to Andy's dismay, but she hadn't had the energy to push him off of her during the night.

"Hey," Andy mumbled, feeling her start to stir against him. Eyes still closed, he tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

"Hey." Sharon yawned and nuzzled into his shoulder. "I'm still a little weak in the knees after last night, I've gotta say."

Andy kissed the top of her head. "That makes two of us. Damn. We even scared Poppy out of the room."

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

On Halloween morning, Sharon was reading in the swing on the porch while Rusty studied at the table nearby. Andy walked up the back steps after working in the yard. "What do you want to do for lunch?"

Sharon looked at her watch. "It's 10:00, honey, I haven't gotten that far yet."

"It's only 10:00?" Andy wasn't adjusting to retirement very well. Being confined to the house did not suit him at all. Sharon wasn't a sedentary person, by any means, but she was better at finding things to do and setting personal goals for herself to keep her occupied than he was. She'd been exercising and meditating more than she'd ever had time for before, and while Andy worked out, he still had trouble filling his days.

"Afraid so." Sharon eyed the pumpkins lining the porch steps. "Why don't we carve the pumpkins? That'll be fun, and it'll take some time."

"Anything to distract me from Trademark Law," Rusty agreed. "I'm about to lose my damn mind."

Andy shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Nothing gross, Andy," Rusty warned.

Andy tilted his head. "So breasts are out of the question?"

"Mo-om!" Rusty complained.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Both of you, stop torturing each other!" They had been driving her insane for the last few months.

A little while later, Andy was the last to finish his pumpkin. Sharon and Rusty had taken traditional approaches, but Andy had taken a different direction. "This is my general attitude toward this whole year," he grinned, turning his pumpkin around.

"Wha—Andy!" Sharon shrieked with laughter when she saw "fuck off" carved into his pumpkin. "But you're not wrong about that."

Late that afternoon, Sharon was putting the finishing touches on her Mary Poppins costume. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss last year's costume arrangement," Andy lamented, referencing a bet he'd lost with his commanding officer which resulted in a terrible costume for him, but a low-cut, form-fitting dress of a costume for Sharon, which he was always on board for. There was no party this year, but they were planning to sit at the end of their driveway with their neighbors and cocktails for those who imbibed, which was about as close to a costume party as they could get. "Was there not at least a sexy Mary Poppins option?" he whined, indicating her high-necked white blouse and knee-length black skirt. "Halloween is a good excuse to get away with being revealing, but I'm getting nothing from this."

"Oh, really? I guess that makes my night a little less taxing, then." Sharon leaned closer to the bathroom mirror to apply her lipstick. Shocking no one, Andy had honed in on her ass and otherwise barely seemed to notice she was in the room. He was so full of shit. Men. She gave him a knowing look. "But you know you can always sweep my chimney any time."

[fandomsilhouette]

you found me in the ashes then (and taught me how to thrive)

The glass he makes is fragile and firm, shatters at the touch of his hand but holds the weight of his whole heart strong and steady. It melts in the heat and bends to his touch, reshaped by the palms of his hands. Felix has left his mark, made something beautiful, something he could call art. 

There are scars on his hands from the cuts and the burns. Looking at them in the morning light, the crisscrossed lines look like art too. 

Happy @felixmonth​, y’all! 

Marinette doesn’t forgive him, necessarily. He’s too far gone for that, and he doesn’t expect anything more than… well, he had expected her to burn the pillow at first sight but clearly that didn’t happen. Felix finds himself absurdly, ridiculously grateful for every smile she sends his way. It’s not often, and usually in passing, but he’s finally getting to see more than the tips of her hair as she rushes around a corner and disappears. He missed this. Felix hadn’t realized how much. 

He also finds himself going back to the library, missing his kids (his kids? when did that happen?) and wondering how they’d been all summer. He’s surprised when most of them even remember him, ask about where he’s been and beg for their favorite stories to be read first. 

A little girl with black hair all tied up in pigtails pushes a book at him. Felix has never read it before, and, ignoring the guilt that comes with choosing a book out of simple curiosity, picks it up. Savvy, he reads, by Ingrid Law. The children settle down, and he starts reading. 

There’s something relaxing about beanbag chairs and bookshelves, and the warmth of a child like a cat on his lap. There’s something relaxing about reading children’s books, too: they reach to the deepest parts of his childhood Felix has yet to shed and call to him, pull him apart into all the pieces he’s broken into and find the spaces where the glass doesn’t fit and smoothes it over, burns him in the light of being seen and heals him in the same breath. There’s no judgement in reading it to the children. They’re a free pass to exploring the themes he skipped over as a child. Felix holds onto it with both hands. 

In the book, Mibs climbs onto a bus and hitchhikes her way to her Poppa, injured in the hospital. On the way there, she learns how to work her savvy, and learns that her strongest power is the one she’s had all along. Felix’s heart aches to have a power like that, to be able to touch someone and know what they feel, what they need. He wishes he knew how to be the person that the people around him need. 

“Mister Felix, you are what we need.” The little girl in his lap snuggles into his stomach and sighs, half asleep. Most of the other kids have wandered off or nodded off, holding their parents’ hands or clutching at their collar. He hadn’t meant to whisper it out loud. He’s sort of glad he did. 

“Where are your parents, noodle?” Her name is Maggie, but Felix calls her anything but. Her favorite is noodle, and he’s inclined to use it when she’s all soft spoken and sweet like this, wiggly and melted in his lap. 

“I dunno, I lost ‘em.” She makes no move to get up. Felix shrugs off his jacket and tucks it in around her, and starts in on the second book in the series. Her parents come to pick her up two books later, just as he’s wrapping up the last one, and he lets her take his jacket with her. She wears it gleefully, sleeves hanging past her fingertips and one shoulder sliding off. Her arms wave just to flap the sleeves and her eyes light up when her mama spins her around. He doesn’t expect to get it back. 

Marinette shows up with it two weeks later at camp with a note and a messily stitched cat, grinning. 

“You have a secret admirer.” The cat is stitched in with the same gap-toothed stitching that shows in the uncontainable joy of Maggie’s smile. On the back, in that messy careful writing, she’s scrawled “You are your own savvy!” Felix’s heart bursts. She’s too young to be so clever. She’s just young enough. 

“Very secret, mhm. Definitely.” And then he manages a wink, and that turns into a full blown smirk when Marinette turns pink. She hands him the jacket and Felix doesn’t jump when their fingers brush. It’s been washed out and has that lingering little kid smell, overlaid with something that smells like bakery and flowers. That night is Felix’s turn to fall asleep tucked into a jacket that feels like it fits just right. 

Marinette doesn’t avoid him that summer, but she doesn’t seek him out either. It’s a strange truce to be in, to go on hikes on paths they used to walk together, to see his messy stitches propped up against her neat ones in the project storage of the arts and crafts room. Felix makes an effort to wave, to nod at Nino and ask about his new music, to talk to the younger years when they get lost or lonely. Felix finds he has so many stories memorized from how often he read them at the library. He does voices, and the youngest campers are enthralled. The older ones are, too, but they skulk around at the edges, keep themselves busy with something else and act like they aren’t paying attention. Felix leans in, winks at them, and catches a little boy around the waist, throws him up in the air. The older campers laugh at the shock on his face, and when Felix gets overrun with kids demanding attention, he waves over the rest and slips out once everyone is laughing. 

He runs into Marinette leaning against a wall outside, waving Nino off so he can catch up with Luka. Felix can see the blush even on Nino’s dark skin, and tries something new. A nod, a wave, something encouraging and bright instead of sneering or snide. 

“I was waiting for you.” Her voice is teasing and light and makes Felix blush. He doesn’t respond. “You’re pretty cute with those kids, y’know. Allan is especially fond of you, he won’t stop talking about the voices you do.” 

“...you know them?” 

She snorts and pushes herself up, starts walking away. “I’ve been teaching them arts and crafts for years, so… yeah. I do.” There’s something sharp in her tone, chiding and playful all at once, and Felix’s heart races. He watches her back, her ponytail swinging, and worries. She pauses. “Aren’t you coming? You’re going to get caught in the rain again if you don’t hurry.” Then she winks, and takes off at a jog. 

Felix laughs in delight, shakes off the first raindrops on his skin and chases after her, a few steps behind but getting closer. 

By the time they’ve sat down with their lunch, the rain is coming down heavily. Marinette waves and splits off to find Nino, and Felix wanders over to an empty table. He can still see her, animated, waving and gesturing wildly, and Nino laughs with her. She glances over at Luka and Nino pulls a face, but he slides down into his seat too. When Marinette laughs, Felix does too. 

By 3PM, not a lot of people are left laughing. The rain is coming down hard, and with everyone stuck in the great hall with nowhere to go, counselors are rapidly losing any ability to keep everyone entertained. By 5, everyone’s irritated and scared, itching to be back in their own cabins or outside or anywhere else. There’s general discontent growing across the room. Felix slips away from his table to make space for the growing group of upset children huddling together in support and slinks into a corner. Cabin fever is setting in, which makes Felix almost smile. They aren’t in their cabins, and the irony would make him laugh if he wasn’t so listless-lost-lonely in this crowded hall. Thunder rumbles. Felix’s spine shivers in time with the skies. 

He’s still watching Marinette. He doesn’t know what that says about him. 

She hasn't looked back at him, but the lightning strikes and she makes her way away from the seat she’s curled up in for the last five hours. Nino sticks his tongue out behind her and she does the same back to him before turning around to look at Felix. There’s lightning again, sure, but it’s in her thundercloud-blue eyes. 

It’s shockingly beautiful. 

She slides down the wall, her shoulder barely brushing his. Electricity shoots across his skin and he shudders. Half an hour passes like that, each second tapped out with the beat of his pounding heart. 

Her voice is quiet when she finally speaks. 

“...why did you do it?” She’s not looking at him, but he can hear the strength it takes her to ask the question out loud. Felix draws circles in the dust on the floor with his finger. 

“I… wish I could tell you. I don’t know, Marinette. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. I just want to know why.” She pauses. “I… Nino says I shouldn’t care or I should ask you and get it over with, and I’ve never been one to not take my own advice.” Marinette doesn’t explain that statement and Felix doesn’t ask her to; in the time that Marinette’s been here, Nino has been edging his way towards Luka. 

“My… mother. I just… I spent so much time around people who just…” Words slip away from Felix and frustration roils in his gut. It’s bitter and biting and hurts, and he screws his face up, clenches his fists. Marinette looks away and leans into his space, and he feels seen and safely hidden all at once. “…this is going to sound so dumb, but I didn’t… I didn’t know what happiness looked like. I thought… I just… that’s what people did, okay? Growing up, everyone who smiled at me wanted something, and usually something I couldn’t afford to give. So instead it was torn out of me and after a while… you start seeing smiles with all their bloody teeth when all they’re used for is taking a bite out of you.” 

She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t speak. It feels like the walls are closing in, squeezing at his heart. The fever spikes. Felix thinks he might be sick; he gropes blindly for water and gulps it down. 

“I really did want to be your friend. I don’t know what it looks like but it’s damn hard making friends. Chloe spent the first whole decade of my life tearing down any scrap of self esteem I had. By the time I even figured out how to stand on my own two feet, everyone else had managed to make friend groups and build social skills and I was years behind. I worked hard to catch up. I made my way here and I refuse to be called manipulative for being kind.” Words come pouring out of her, like she spent the last half hour building them up behind a dam just to let them all burst now. They wash over Felix like waves, cool on his burning skin. 

“I think I’m… starting to get that, yeah.” He tries for a joke: “As it happens, I happen to be pretty behind too.” It makes her laugh, and pride wells in his smug grin. She bumps into his shoulder. 

“You’re not too bad, y’know. I’ve seen you with them.” She nods at the kids and then weighs her words on the scales of her tongue, decides to speak. “Thank you, Felix. I forgive you.” 

“Thank you, Marinette. You’re… not too bad yourself.” 

Counselors start bringing out dinner and the children rouse. By dessert, Marinette is singing and the kids come gather around her to listen, to sing along in their warbling voices. She nods at Felix and he joins in too; then someone demands stories and between the two of them, they manage to get through three Disney movies. She doesn’t move from beside him the whole time. 

She falls asleep first, still stuck in the great hall while the clouds pour down, tilts onto his shoulder. Felix doesn’t do anything but slide down until she’s comfortable, and keeps telling stories until his voice gives out and the campers are passed out around them. 

Come morning, the sun breaks through the clouds, bright and bold and shining. Felix wakes up to it, revels in the light of the morning sun, and grins.

[renaxwrites]

Eleven

.06 -  Fool’s Gold

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: none!

masterlist: here :)

a/n: hey y’all! I’m so happy I finally found the time to write the new chapter 😩 college is busy but it izzz what it izzz. also I felt the lyrics for this one were perfect, cause *lol* crows a ha ;) hope you enjoy <3

previous || next

I’m like a crow on a wire. You’re the shining distraction that makes me fly home.

“What the hell is so damn funny? Enlighten me before I make myself go deaf on purpose.”

You and Yachi were giggling for the past five minutes about something that had happened earlier in class.

Face flustered and trying to keep a still face, you turn and sputter out, “Damn, Tsukishima, is- is it a crime pfft to lau- I’m so sorry I can’t even talk to you right now.” You barely get the last of your sentences out as you burst into giggles again.

Tsukishima is just watching you. He’s not even sure how to react. He isn’t even aware that he was staring until Hinata comes up, flicks his head between you two, and states, “Tsukishima, just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Tsukishima blushes furiously from getting caught, then mutters something about taking a picture of Hinata in his grave.

All of you were in good spirits, with it being the day of the Harvest Moon Festival. Ukai even ended practice early, to allow everyone the time to prepare for the festivities. Although, he had to lightly threaten Hinata and Kageyama if he found out they used the gym outside of practice.

Mizuki encouraged Yachi to get ready with you at the house, hoping to hearten up the girl-bonding the three of you had. She got off of work early to help you two get ready, and it truly was a wholesome experience.

After several hours (or several years to Tsukishima), you and Yachi were all dressed and ready to go. She brings out a mirror so the two of you can inspect your looks.

“You girls look so lovely,” Mizuki gushes.

Let the squealing commence!

“YACHIIII! You’re glowing in that color! Do a spin for me girlie!!”

“Y/NNNN! You’re the one that’s glowing!! I swear, I can already hear all the boys breaking their necks to peek at you!!”

Mizuki had been watching all three of you, so she was a little surprised at her son’s sudden intense blush after the “boys checking out y/n” comment. She definitely took a mental note of that.

Suddenly, a knock at the door captured all of your attention.

Mizuki clasps her hand. “Alright! Kei, watch over these two lovely ladies! Be careful and have fun!” She bids you all goodbye with a hug.

You open the door to find Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kageyama bouncing from excitement.

“We invited these idiots too? Well, I’m out,” Tsukishima turns to walk back inside, but before he could, you lightly grab his wrist, causing him to abruptly stop. You feel his warmth and swear there’s a light spark.

“Tsukishima, please? It’s my first time anyway, and I want to experience it with everyone! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

He already felt somewhat weak around you, so how could he say no to your puppy-sad eyes? No one with sanity could resist those.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Everyone collectively sighs a breath of relief.

“We’re going to meet the senpais at the festival ground, so let’s gooo!” Hinata announces as you all make your way to the main event.

The main town square was overflowing with festive decorations, painting every nook and cranny. It was just before sunset, so the glow of the lowering sun drowned the atmosphere in golden haze. Pampas grass, blush clovers and autumnal flowers littered windows, adding an extra pop of color. There were people dancing in joyous manner, others feasting on mid-autumn treats, and extra citizens strolling around enjoying the festivities.

Your group had barely walked into the entrance when you were cheerily greeted by 6 more individuals.

“OI! First-years! Your senpais are over here!” Tanaka and Nishinoya belted out to capture your groups’ attention. Soon, you feel engulfed in several hugs from your senpais. Even you and Yachi spent a few minutes with Kiyoko on complimenting each other, who looked like a gem with her deep violet theme.

Time began to fly by, with you and the team happily making your way around the festival, participating in all the activities offered. At some point, there was a dance ritual, and Kiyoko took you and Yachi by surprise by dragging you out to dance. The three of you danced without a care in the world, not even noticing how you were being watched in awe by the rest of the team. All but the first year boys are quick to join, who stand idly on the side, not sure what to do.

Mid-twirl, you notice the four awkward boys playing ‘wallflower’, so you mention it to Yachi, and within that second you two stride up to them. She grabs Tobio and Hinata’s wrists, while you clasp onto Tadashi and Tsukishima’s.

“There is no way we’re letting you stand there like some awkward ass trees. Come dance with us, at least for a little bit!” You didn’t wait for a response as you dragged them out into the square. You let go and slide into the rhythm of the native dance, while the boys awkwardly try to follow. You take a turn helping each of them, and although it was pretty much a lost cause, you all still had a load of fun either way.

Once the period of dancing was over, you and the team made your way over to the food stands. The closer you got, the more engulfed you were in the endless delicious scents. There were heavier servings, such bottomless amounts of dango (white dumplings of rice), tsukimi burgers, and lots of dishes with eggs. Fall fruits and vegetables were also present, such as kuri (chestnuts), kabocha (pumpkin), persimmons, Japanese sweet potatoes, taro, grapes, and pears.

The boys ate a portion from each stand, their appetite never seeming to end. However, you had a hard time deciding which one to choose, so you, Yachi and Kiyoko settled and shared a bit from each. To help the digestion, you made your way to make your harvest offerings.

Each member made line at the temple to make their offering, but Tsukishima sensed your hesitation.

“Don’t know how to do it? I thought you knew everything, you nerd.”

You look up and laugh in slight embarrassment. “I do, it’s just been a while, I guess. Brings back a couple memories, that’s all.”

To be lightly petty, you cut him in line. To your surprise, he doesn’t make a sarcastic comment, so you leave it alone.

The reason why he didn’t was so he could have the privilege to watch you. To see you bask in the soft glow of the candlelight, with wisps of the incense swirling around your face. To feel his own fascination in seeing stillness in your features, for just a moment.

By the time every member had made their offering, it was dark, meaning the moon viewing was about to start.

The moon was shining its brightest at the highest peak in the sky. All of those attending had gathered to surround the main area for the viewing, to get the best view of the moon. Music was softly playing, setting a serene tone.

You and the team had huddled together in awe. But for some reason, something seemed amiss. You turn to each of your friends, only to find one missing.

Tsukishima.

Whispering to Yachi, you set off in search to find him. It shouldn’t be too hard, considering almost everyone was being entranced by the moon. Plus, he’s, you know, pretty tall.

You feel it’s best to retrace your steps. And right you were!

You find Tsukishima purchasing an item, and get the bright idea of trying to sneak behind him. Somehow thinking you were going to be able to scare him. However, you failed two steps in.

He turns around and you two barely missing collision, almost dropping the small bowl in his hand.

“Tsk tsk. Your stalking almost wasted my money, y/n.”

Still catching your breath, you glare up at him. “Well sheesh, not my fault you snuck off.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Excuse me for going out of my way to be generous, never again I suppose.”

Tilting your head, you ask, “What do you mean?”

He suddenly turns bashful. Thank goodness it was dark enough to mask the pink now flooding his cheeks.

“Well, I saw you practically drooling for these earlier, so...” his voice trails off. He looks in the opposite direction as he puts the bowl out for you to take. You glance down in curiosity. Inside were four little mochi balls in the shape of rabbits.

You feel a bit of blush on your cheeks, and you bring him back down to earth as you say, “You got this for me?”

“It’s either that or hear whining when we get back. I’d rather spend a couple yen for silence to be honest,” he shrugs.

You laugh and playfully push his shoulder with yours. “I’m not that whiny. You swear. Anyway, let’s head back, the moon viewing has already started.”

You begin to walk back to your friends when you feel a gentle tug on your wrist. Turning, you see Tsukishima with his iconic smirk, along with a mysterious, playful glint in his eyes.

“Actually, I have a better spot in mind.”

He leads you back towards the temple, which then branches off to a smaller , more hidden path. Eventually, the two of you are peering over a quaint koi pond, surrounded by lush plant life. Your eyes full of wonder, all while glowing in the moonlight.

Tsukishima has never seen anything so beautiful.

You hardly notice his intense staring as you look up in awe and ponder, “How do you know about this place? It’s gorgeous!”

He breaks his gaze to stare up at the moon above. “This is the one place I have to myself. The one place I can run and hide whenever I needed to. It was just me, and no one else. But...it feels right to share it right now.”

You feel both honored and mesmerized by this moment. To make it sweeter, you open your box and hand a mochi to Tsukishima. “Cheers.”

He silently accepts your mochi and doesn’t object when you clink your rabbit against his, like a teacup. The two of you munch the treat, then continue to revel in the comfortable silence.

After a while, you hear faraway bustles of people, indicating that the viewing was finishing up. “I hate to leave, but it seems like we’re almost done,” you admit forlornly as you pick up your bowl.

Tsukishima is quick to notice a few strands fall from your face, so he takes this opening to lift your chin and tuck them behind your ear.

Your breath hitches.

“You know, I’m sure many boys probably broke their necks today. That color looks good on you.”

You realize this is a response to Yachi’s comment from earlier, and are not even sure how to react. Especially not when he’s super close to you right now. How dare he, messing with your brain’s functionality.

But just as quick as the moment arrived, it was gone.

You both begin trekking back to the team. Just as you feel your phone vibrate to notify it being Eleven o’clock, you feel a warm, “not-too-hard, not-too-soft” pinky tenderly wrap around yours.

It felt just right.

I'm the first to admit that I’m reckless . I get lost in your beauty and I can’t see two feet in front of me.

taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0

[the-regal-warrior]

Earl Grey and Cappuccinos: Part Three

The next part is finally here. It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s fluffy. Also, you’ll notice that this story is mostly just me indulging myself and @nalgenewhore - but it’s such an adorable story that I don’t think you guys will mind. Oh, and y’all can thank Isa for the adorable new couple you’re about to meet.

Summary: It’s a Coffee Shop AU meets Rival Tattoo Artists AU meets Elorcan - do I even need to say anything else?

Warnings: Language and fluff, my friends.

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Elide had been going through her appointment book while she sat at her desk in the office, trying to decide which sketches she needed to get started on, when her phone lit up with a text from Lorcan. Glancing down, she saw that all he’d written was: send help, the guys are dicks. 

She sent him a quick reply - aww, you poor thing - before grabbing her bag and making for the door. “Nehemia,” she called, rapping her knuckles on the counter to get the other girl’s attention. “I’m heading out - you’re in charge of any appointments anyone wants to make with me.”

Nehemia just offered her a wry grin. “And where could you possibly be off to? Going to see the boyfriend, perhaps?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Elide quipped back, winking as she backed into the front door to push it open. “You didn’t shut up about Sorscha for at least a month after the two of you started dating.”

“Oh please,” she huffed, though her giggles followed Elide onto the sidewalk. “It was only two weeks!”

Chuckling to herself, Elide slipped her headphones into her ears as she made her way to Cadre Ink, only making one stop on her way. She listened to the Dead Kennedys the entire walk, and she found that she loved the music even more because it reminded her of Lorcan. 

When she finally pulled open the door to Cadre Ink and pulled her headphones out of her ears, she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of her throat when she realized the exact same album was playing over the shop’s speakers. 

Most likely hearing her laughter along with the jingling of the bell hanging over the door, Vaughan looked up from the front desk. “Hey, Elide,” he greeted, vaulting over the counter as she pulled the door shut behind her. “Something amusing about the ridiculous music your boyfriend picked out this morning?”

Still giggling, she replied, “no, not at all - I love his music.” When he just arched one eyebrow, she elaborated, “I was listening to the same album on the way over here.”

“Ridiculous. The both of you are completely ridiculous.” Vaughan just shook his head at her, though he did wrap an arm around her shoulders as she walked up to him, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. He and Lorcan had grown up together, and Elide knew that her boyfriend was thrilled that the two of them got along so well. 

Flicking the side of his head, she wiggled out of his embrace so she could glare up at him. Even though she was a head (and then some) shorter than literally all of the boys who worked at the shop, she still had the impressive ability of being able to glare down her nose at all of them. “You love us and you fucking know it.”

Vaughan huffed a laugh. “You, I’ll admit to. But not the fucker you call your boyfriend.” 

“Trying to discourage her from dating the brooding motherfucker in the back, are you?” Fenrys wandered into the lobby just as Vaughan finished speaking, hauling himself up so he could sit on the counter. “What’s good, E?”

“Well, my tits, but we all knew that. And my taste in men, obviously.” When Fenrys just scoffed at her, she leaned her weight against his thigh, digging her elbow into the sensitive skin hard enough that he winced. “What do you have against my mans?”

“Fuck, woman, stop bruising me!” Fen pinched her arm until she backed off, Vaughan just laughing quietly at the two of them. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s a brooding motherfucker?”

“Yes, you asshole, aside from that.”

“He’s just a miserable prick, E. I don’t know how you put up with his whining.” Vaughan nodded along with his words, and Elide just shook her head at the two of them.

“He’s hot,” she quipped, walking toward the office at the back of the building. “And he really knows how to use his hands!” That last bit was shouted over her shoulder, and she heard both of them groan at what she was implying.

Waving at Gavriel where he was busy prepping for a client in his suite, Elide continued her walk into the back, rapping her knuckles on the open door into Connall’s piercing suite as she stopped to poke her head in. “Hey, Con.”

“Hey,” he greeted, offering her a gentle smile as he nodded at the drink in her hand. “Bringing a certain someone his tea?”

“Like any good girlfriend would,” she joked, lifting it once in his direction as she backed out of the room. “Better get it to him before it cools too much.”

Connall just chuckled. “We wouldn’t want his highness drinking cold tea.”

“It would be a tragedy,” she quipped, waving as she moved down the hallway. She walked into the office just as Rowan was standing from his chair, and he grinned at the sight of her. Lorcan was sitting with his back to the door, his hair tied up in a messy bun as he worked on a sketch, the pencil practically flying over the paper. 

Rowan brushed by her, knocking his shoulder into hers in greeting even as he chuckled quietly at the tea in her hands. She just smiled and leaned into him quickly, happy that Lorcan’s friends had quickly become her friends, too.

Walking up behind her boyfriend, she carefully set his tea on the desk next to him before she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey there, handsome.”

Though he’d startled at her initial touch, he practically melted into her embrace when he heard her voice in his ear. She barely had time to press her lips to the side of his neck before he was turning his chair around to face her. “Hello, my love.”

She realized he was wearing his glasses as he worked, and she was quite taken by the way he looked with his hair up and his glasses on. Though she thought he looked hot no matter what he was wearing, this had to be one of her favorite looks. She’d just stepped back further to really take him in, but Lorcan’s hands on her thighs stopped her in her tracks.

“Damn, mamas,” he whistled, eyes lighting up as he looked her up and down. She was wearing an old black t-shirt of his that she’d stolen from him the last time he spent the night, and since he was over a foot taller than her, it hit her mid-thighs. She’d paired it with fishnets and her Doc Martens, her dark hair in two Dutch braids that fell over her shoulders. He slowly slid his hands up her thighs, under her - well, his - t-shirt, as he said, “if I let my hands keep wandering, will I find cotton or lace?”

Leaning down to brush her lips against his in the barest hint of kiss even as he hands kept moving, Elide just whispered, “denim, babes.” She smirked as his fingers hit the bottom of her admittedly very tiny shorts and he groaned, his head falling against the back of his chair.

“Such a little tease,” he replied, pulling her down into his lap. He lifted one hand to twist one of her braids around his finger, the other pulling her hips down into his. She groaned at the feeling of his hardening length rocking gently against her clothed pussy, and he smirked up at her. “But I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

She rocked her hips into his, laughing when he hissed out a breath. “I just like you for the pretty little noises you make.”

He laughed at that, a loud sort of laugh that echoed around the room. She’d come to realize that wasn’t a sound he made very often, and it sent a thrill of happiness through her every time she made him laugh. Cupping her face in both of his hands, Lorcan pulled her down so he could kiss her, a simple, sweet kiss that cooled the passion that had been burning between them moments ago but was still full of so much feeling. 

Pulling back until he could look into her eyes, he offered her a happy little grin. “So what brings you here, my love?”

“Well, you told me to send help.” Leaning over his shoulder, she grabbed the tea he hadn’t seen in his excitement over seeing her. “So I thought an Earl Grey might be just the kind of help you needed.”

A truly beautiful smile spread over his face as he took the cup from her hands. “Elide,” he breathed, ghosting his fingers over her cheek. “This is perfect - thanks, mamas.”

“You got it, babes.” She leaned down to kiss his jaw. “I know how to keep my man happy.”

Lorcan pouted his lips at her for a kiss, which she obliged. “You most definitely do.” He leaned up to kiss her again, this one growing deeper as he carefully set his tea on the desk behind him. She wound her arms around his neck as his slipped back around her waist, and she found herself cupping the back of his head so she could angle his head and kiss him harder.

He’d just started rolling her hips over his lap when someone heaved a massive sigh from the doorway. “Will you two fiends get a room already, for the love of the gods!”

Lorcan had barely pulled his lips from hers before he was grabbing a stress ball from his desk and chucking it toward the door. Though all five guys had gathered in the doorway at Fenrys’s exclamation, it hit him right in the forehead, sending everyone else into hysterics.

Even as she laughed at the absolute bewilderment on Fen’s face, Elide couldn’t help the happiness growing in her heart. Lorcan’s friends had accepted her as one of them, and that meant everything to her. She knew how much this little family he’d created meant to him, and she was thrilled that she got to be a part of it.

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