#gays I’m new if it wasn’t clear. like maybe a month new to here but I’ve been obsessing sooo much so. there we go

[nazumichi]

friendchip means everything. to me 🫶

[ticklishraspberries]

Giggly Glam (Connor, Zoe)

Summary: Connor buys himself makeup, then realizes he has no idea how to do makeup. Zoe tries to help. (Take this Connor lives and gets to heal his relationship with his sister thing I wrote. No one asked me to, I just have an obsession with this stupid fandom. Enjoy it or else /lh.)

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to buy it. He’d only gone into the beauty aisle to buy a new bottle of black nail polish, and had somehow ended up picking out a few cheap makeup products. It was a completely impulsive, stupid decision, and if Connor had an ounce of sense, he’d turn back around and return it all.

But he didn’t. Instead, he decided to use it as an olive branch, or whatever the saying was. You see, almost dying had sort of knocked some sense into his head. Well, that plus some therapy, and seeing the looks that Zoe kept shooting him across the table at dinner.

So, maybe when he got back from the hospital, he’d made a whole big scene about how sorry he was for the way he’d acted towards her, towards them all, and maybe he’d cried harder than he had in years, and clung to his mom like a scared child on the first day of school.

Yeah, looking back, that had been pretty embarrassing. But it had shattered the layer of ice between him and his family, which he supposed was a good thing. He just hadn’t worked up the courage to dip into that murky water again, afraid he’d do something stupid like cry again, or make it worse by clamming up and telling his sister to fuck off like he would have a few months prior.

But a gift? It was an olive branch, he supposed. Not an apology, not an explanation, but it was something. So when he got home, he went right up to Zoe’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” she replied, and she looked surprised when it was Connor who entered, not her mother. “What do you want?”

Her tone wasn’t overly harsh, just a tad annoyed, mostly confused. Connor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, I got you something. At the store. I don’t know if you even really wear makeup, but I just…Yeah. Here you go.”

He placed the bag on her dresser, and turned to leave, but paused when she spoke.

“Makeup?” Zoe asked, standing up off of her bed and walking over, snatching up the bag and looking inside. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t wear it that much, but it’s good to have.”

Connor nodded. “Cool.”

“Why though?”

“Why what?”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “I can’t remember the last time you got me a gift. At least, one that wasn’t clearly bought by mom, who put your name on the label. So why?”

Connor shrugged. “I mean, honestly, I bought it on impulse and realized I was never gonna use it, so I gave it to you. Not very thought out, I guess. Do I get points for trying?” he asked, his tone light although there was a pit of anxiety in his stomach. He still wasn’t used to talking to Zoe like this; normal, casual conversation wasn’t really his forte.

“You got it for yourself?” Zoe asked. “Why wouldn’t you wear it?”

“Cause I get called gay at school for wearing nail polish, I think eyeliner would be pushing my luck,” he replied. When she didn’t seem amused, he continued, “Plus, I have no idea how to use any of it.”

“Where do you think I learned it? It’s not some inherent skill that comes with being a woman. Look up a tutorial online or something,” she said. “Fuck what kids at school think.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. God, could he not get through one conversation without being an asshole? He opened his mouth to apologize, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat and wouldn’t come out. It was like every time he tried to swallow his pride, he fucking choked on it.

Zoe just rolled her eyes. “I was gonna offer to just show you myself, but if you’re gonna be a dick, I’ll just keep my secrets to myself.”

“What do you mean show me? I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you do your own makeup,” he said.

“I could do it for you. I mean, I’m not great at it, but at least you’d get an idea of what it’s supposed to look like. And if you don’t like how it looks, I’ll keep the makeup and we can pretend this never happened.”

Connor thought about it for a moment, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I guess. Uh, thanks. And sorry for, um, snapping at you.”

“Whatever,” Zoe replied, but she had a small smile on her face. Almost fond. “Sit on my bed. Wait, but take your shoes off first.”

He obeyed wordlessly, feeling incredibly strange. Zoe’s room had changed a lot since they were kids. The walls that had once been covered in stickers of flowers and photos of boy band members were now decorated much more tastefully, although Harry Styles was still making an appearance. Her twin bed had been upgraded to a full-sized one, and it was in the middle of the room rather than pushed against the wall like it had once been. Her sheets were no longer Disney princess themed, but rather soft blue ones with stars on them.

As he sat down, Zoe began peeling plastic off of each makeup product: A stick of black eyeliner, and a palette of four eyeshadows, in varying shades of purple, and a tube of mascara.

“Just your eye makeup, or do you want a full glam?”

Connor furrowed his brows at her, chuckling. “Full glam? Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

She placed the products on the bed, then went back over to her dresser to grab a cup of brushes. “Your first mistake was thinking that the little wand this eyeshadow comes with would be enough,” she said. “You’re lucky that mom keeps buying me sets of brushes for every holiday.”

“Every holiday?”

“Every. Holiday. Three Hanukkahs in a row, two birthdays. So many brushes.”

Connor snorted. “I guess she thinks you wear ‘full glam’ every day,” he said, putting air quotes around the phrase she’d used, which made her chuckle.

She sat down on the bed beside him, her tongue poking between her teeth as she thought. “Okay, I think I’ll do your eyeshadow first…Just close your eyes and try to sit still,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, shutting his eyes as he was told, and he heard her shuffling around with the products.

After a moment, he could feel her hand hovering in front of him, and braced for impact, ever so dramatic. A somewhat flat, stiff brush touched his eyelid, and his face twitched despite his best efforts. He got it under control quickly, the sensation surprisingly easy to get used to.

“So, I’m putting the lighter color on your lid right now,” Zoe explained. “And after, I’m gonna use the darker one sort of, like, around it.”

“Sounds fancy,” he replied.

Zoe snorted, using her other hand to hold the side of his face, keeping him in place. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to his sister, or shared this much physical contact with her. It was weird, but it somehow felt natural, still so familiar. Her fingertips were rough from guitar string scars, and her hands were steady.

He heard her switching the brush, presumably also switching the color. The heel of her hand pressed against his jaw as she continued.

The brush was much fluffier than the last, and she was doing it so lightly, it felt like an annoying itch, and he scrunched his face up on instinct.

“Stay still,” she reminded him.

He huffed, but attempted to comply. He managed to keep his composure for a bit, but as the brush stroked against his face, turning the outer corner of his left eye the striking color of artificial grape candy, the feeling turned from an annoying itch to a feather-light sensation.

Connor couldn’t help it; he giggled, turning his face away from her.

“Stop moving!” Zoe said, retracting her hand.

“I can’t help it!” he replied. “It…feels weird.”

She ignored him and attempted to continue, but when the brush touched his skin again, he giggled again.

“Does it tickle?” Zoe asked, sounding almost incredulous. “There’s no way your face is ticklish.”

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and scowled. “Shut up,” he said, knowing he had no argument that would convince her that she was wrong.

Zoe’s lips twitched.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.”

She lost it, starting to giggle herself. “I’m sorry, but it is funny.”

Normally embarrassment felt white-hot, a rage-inducing humiliation that sent him running for the hills or taking out his anger on whoever was closest, a pit in his stomach. He was expecting that feeling to surface at that moment, but all he could feel was the color in his face and Zoe’s gaze on him.

Maybe it was because there were very few things his sister hadn’t witnessed: She knew him when he was still a gap-toothed child that was afraid of bugs, or when he grew into a pre-teen with braces and a constantly cracking voice.

So, instead of freaking out, he just glared at her half-heartedly. “Whatever.”

“Are you gonna survive if I continue?” she asked, grinning.

He rolled his eyes but nodded, bracing himself for the brush to return. He managed to sit still for the rest of the process, perhaps by sheer willpower or because Zoe was using a firmer touch to spare him some dignity.

“I’m kind of terrified of poking your eye out if I do your mascara,” she said to fill the silence. “Or eyeliner. I’ve never done it on anyone else.”

“Very reassuring,” he muttered.

All the brushes were away from his face, but he kept his eyes shut in case she went back, which was apparently a mistake, as Zoe had taken his sass as a chance to poke him in the ribs, making him flinch and huff out a laugh.

“I can’t believe I forgot you were ticklish,” she said.

“Please forget again,” he replied. “And, if I remember correctly, you are too. I’m not above revenge.”

Zoe laughed. “Okay, truce. But it’s nice to see you smile again.”

The sincerity of her statement made Connor freeze up, just for a moment. He was wading into foreign territory enough, but genuine conversation was almost too much. “Uh, thanks. I think?”

“Sorry, I just—You know, it’s just been a while since…” she trailed off.

“I know.”

She nodded, twirling the eyeliner pencil between her fingers. “So, do you trust me to not blind you?”

“...Not really, but fuck it.”

It turned out that Connor really rocked the color purple, and he loved the way that black eyeliner looked on him, and Zoe offered to show him how to do it himself next time.

He left his sister’s room and walked down the hallway with a giddy feeling in his stomach, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It occurred to him that he had really missed his sister, no matter how hard he’d ignored it in the past. They still had a lot to work on, but Connor felt like something healed in them both that day, and it was all thanks to an impulsive purchase.

[ronancebible]

the second hand unwinds {robin buckley x afab!reader}

Summary: You and Robin have been dancing around each other forever. One night at a party, your friends are determined to change that.

A/N: Fulfilling this and this request <3 GN pronouns used!

Warnings: Drug use (weed), gay sex! lol: vaginal fingering, oral sex, and thigh riding.

-

Oh shit, you thought absent-mindedly as Robin walked into the smoking room of the party. You choked on the smoke, nearly hacking a lung out at the surprise of seeing Robin in the room. She hated smoking and would hardly be caught dead in the hazy room full of foul-smelling smoke. You blindly leaned over and handed the joint to Jonathan, trying to clear your lungs while wiping at your watery eyes.

“You good?” you heard distantly, probably from Steve in the other corner. You nodded, finally regaining some semblance of a normal breath pattern.

It wasn’t even just Robin being in the room that threw you off—it was how good she looked. Not that she didn’t always look good (really, it was embarrassing how often you found yourself staring at your best friend), but tonight was a completely different story.

Your breath once again hitched violently when you saw Robin make her way over to you. Her eyes were adorned with thick black eyeliner with a shimmery red lip to match. She was wearing a cropped black t-shirt, her abdomen tantalizingly on display, and her black jeans hugged her legs in a way that left your head spinning.

“Hey,” she said softly, smiling widely and folding herself tightly into a criss-cross applesauce position by you. You tried to clear your head of the fog that the weed (and she) caused.

“Hey. What are you doing in here?” you replied with a smile just as bright as hers, nudging your knee against hers.

Robin’s leg felt rigid against yours, so you dropped a hand to her knee, absent-mindedly rubbing soft circles into the fabric against her skin.

Fuck. You were too stoned to be around Robin. You weren’t even that high, really, you hadn’t even properly inhaled your second hit off the joint, but even the small ways your inhibitions were lowered made your stomach squirm at the thought of what you could accidentally say or do. Like the hand on Robin’s knee right now.

Obviously, you knew you had a massive crush on Robin. Liking girls wasn’t anything new to you, thanks to Princess Leia’s gold bikini in Return of the Jedi, but Robin was a different story entirely. You were about as subtle as a fire alarm with your lingering glances and beet-red blushes. Nancy had figured you out months ago, her signature investigative reporter’s eye catching you on a particularly warm girls’ day at Lovers’ Lake (whose topless events you rehashed more often than you cared to admit).

Pretty much everyone had figured it out, really, except for—thankfully—Steve, who was about as oblivious as they came.

A warm hand on top of your own snapped you out of your thoughts. You heard Robin repeat your name. You shook your head to snap out of the fog, blushing deeply as you realized you had been staring at her the whole time.

“I just said I came in to, um… maybe give it a try?” Robin repeated, eyes darting around before timidly landing back on yours.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Robin flushed a little, taking her hands and shoving them in her lap.

“Yeah, I mean… I’m mostly against smoking cigarettes as a habit, just because it’s so gross and unhealthy and there’s, like, no point, but I was thinking about it, and, if weed really is as great as you and Eddie and basically everyone else says it is, then I wanna try it. Especially since it’s not gonna be, like, a habit, I’m not gonna be smoking a joint every hour just to—”

Your hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Robin.”

She smiled sheepishly under your hand, reaching up to remove it from her mouth. Your breath hitched as her fingers curled around your wrist, and you were sure you almost stopped breathing when she didn’t bother letting go, both of your hands lazily overlapping against her thigh.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“Of course. You know me,” you chuckled, dropping your eyes from her face for fear of your skin turning the shade of a tomato.

Jonathan, ever the bro, nudged the baggie and rolling papers over to you. Distantly, you realized you needed both hands to roll the joint, so you slowly slipped your hand out from Robin’s grasp, eyebrows furrowed at the effort it took to remove yourself from her willing grasp.

“It is really nice, but for your first time we’ll take it easy. I’m here for you, and everyone here is cool and can help you out if you need it. Also, I will warn you, it doesn’t really taste or smell all that good. I like to have some water or juice on hand to get the taste out of my mouth,” you murmured, concentrating on spreading the weed out on the paper. You weren’t an expert by any means, but you smoked enough to know what you were doing.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense, yeah, I have a juice right here.”

You saw Robin lift something in your periphery and you glanced over to see her holding up a bottle of apple juice. Her goofy grin went straight to your heart, and you fumbled the full paper a little, recovering quickly and only turning slightly red as you glanced back down to the matter at hand.

You could feel Robin’s gaze lingering on you as you continued rolling the joint, and you glanced up at her briefly, smiling when your eyes met. Jesus Christ, your heart wouldn’t stop racing.

“Stop staring, Buckley,” you muttered with a small smile. You heard her chuckle softly.

You glanced back and forth at each other a few more times, each as heart-attack inducing and confusing as the last, as you finished rolling. When you were done, you presented the finished joint dramatically.

“Ta-da,” you flourished, waving your hand to be dramatic.

Robin laughed, snorting briefly (and you tried to ignore the way your heart leapt).

“You’re such a dork,” she said, swinging her body around to sit directly next to you, bodies pressing together. You gulped, trying to act as natural as possible.

“So, it’s probably gonna burn pretty bad going down, especially if you’ve never smoked anything before. It’s okay if you cough—no one here’s judging,” you prefaced, nudging your leg against Robin’s and smiling in her direction absently.

“Oh, um… is there anything that makes it smoother? I’m kind of scared I’ll accidentally throw up,” Robin admitted. You saw her fiddling with the laces on her boots.

Your brain ground to a halt as you thought of one of the only things that would make joint smoke smoother. Your face once again turned beet red as you twiddled the joint between your fingers.

“Um. There is one thing, but, like, I don’t know if you’d want to,” you muttered, not meeting her eyes all the way.

You could still feel her brow furrow as she pressed even closer to you. “I mean, I don’t know why I wouldn’t want to. Why, what is it?”

You cleared your throat, trying to muster up some semblance of courage to describe it.

“It’s called shotgunning. Basically, I would take the hit and inhale it and then, um, you would, like, inhale out of my mouth,” you explained haltingly. 

You didn’t really want to make eye contact after explaining that, afraid that your face would be too red and immediately give you way, but you made yourself look over at Robin anyway. Her face was also slightly pink (damn the hot, smoke-filled room) with wide eyes and she stuttered before speaking. 

“I’m—I mean that’s, uh, cool with me if it’s cool with you.”

Your heart sped up immediately, and you nodded self-consciously before flicking the lighter on. 

“Okay. Yeah. Cool. Um, okay so, I guess I’ll just lean in and you inhale when I exhale, okay?”

You gave Robin what you hoped was a reassuring smile after seeing her slightly nervous expression and took the joint between your lips, holding the lighter over the end and burning the tip away. 

You inhaled deeply, rich smoke filling your lungs and edging its way into your consciousness. 

You turned quickly toward Robin, heart racing as you tried not to make her uncomfortable with your proximity. She edged closer to you, pursing her lips to inhale as you started to blow, still too far from her face and shaking unstably from the angle. She seemed to chase you for a second, trying to catch the slow stream of smoke coming out of your mouth, but, after barely a second, her eyebrows set and she reached up and grabbed your face, fingers digging into the soft part of your cheek. Your lungs started burning for air, but you couldn’t bear to break yourself from Robin’s firm grasp. 

“Stay still,” she muttered, before leaning in incredibly close, lips barely brushing, and inhaled from your mouth in earnest as you pushed the smoke out of your lungs. 

It felt like alarm bells going off in your head as Robin’s lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. You barely managed to exhale all the way without stopping your breath just due to the sheer proximity of her face.

Once your lungs were totally devoid of smoke, you stifled a cough from the effort. Robin’s hand dropped from your face to your back, thumping you softly as you continued to cough. 

“I really could have executed that better,” you said hoarsely. “Did you get a good hit?”

Robin nodded her head side to side, as if to say so-so. “I definitely think I could use another one.”

You nodded, trying not to let your panic show on your face. You barely survived the first try without melting onto the ground. 

Face red, you took another long pull off the joint, this time easily letting your face be taken in hand and turned toward the object of your affections.

This time, with more warning and preparation, you were able to appreciate the contact Robin’s hand made with your face. Her fingers felt strong and soft against your cheeks, caressing the skin there minutely as her lips once again barely brushed yours. 

She managed to inhale nearly all of the hit you had taken, and you quickly repeated the process once more, not wanting to let a spare second risk Robin taking her hand away from your face. 

Once you were done, Robin’s fingers dropped away from your cheeks, coming to rest lightly against your knee. You both faced each other, eyes wandering around the room in comfortable silence, and after a few minutes, you realized you were definitely buzzed. Robin’s eyes looked hooded. 

“I’m definitely already feeling it,” Robin whispered, eyes scanning your face hungrily. You shivered. 

“Yeah, me too. How’re you feeling?” 

Robin hummed, head inching away from yours and thumping back against the wall. You sighed quietly at the loss. 

“You were right. This is really nice.”

“What do you like about it?” you asked with a smile, itching to hear her first impressions. 

“Everything is just… nice. It feels like how cheesy movies portray life. Just… better,” she tittered, eyes glancing around the room at the friends surrounding you. 

“It also makes everything prettier,” she continued, glancing back over at you with a look that made your mouth dry up (or maybe that was the weed). “Like you. Jesus, typically you’re so gorgeous, but right now you look like a goddess. Seriously, I don’t really know what to do with myself.”

Your heart nearly stopped, and then started going a mile a minute. Your skin flushed, and a dopey smile overtook your face. 

Robin’s eyes dropped to your lips so quickly, you were sure you imagined it. 

Steve suddenly came out of nowhere (probably the other corner, really) and crouched down beside you. You both snapped around to look at him, annoyance clear on your faces. 

“Ooookay, Robin, I’m glad this is fun but, uh, just following your own orders here, so we’ve gotta go to the kitchen and get some water,” he said conspiratorially, gently grabbing Robin by the arm and lifting her into a standing position. You squinted at him suspiciously. 

Robin rolled her eyes and grumbled as she clambered to her feet, letting herself be led by Steve away from you.  

He turned around to look at you, but your gaze had returned to Robin, eyes holding the same affection you were sure they always did, the stupid smile unsoiled. 

You didn’t see it, too busy continuing your affectionate stare—or ogle—at Robin, but realization crept over Steve’s face, his searching stare turning into raised eyebrows, his mouth making a small ‘o’.

Robin giggled at you, rolling her eyes playfully and pointing at Steve. “I’m gonna see what the dingus wants,” she called out to you as she was steered out of the room. You smiled and nodded in return, waving her off without a worry. 

Nancy was next to you in an instant, a barrage of questions spilling out of her mouth without warning. 

“What was that? Seriously, what was that, because, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s stupidly in love with you,” Nance said nudging you over and over as if to prove her point further. 

You blinked confusedly. “No, no, you’ve got the wrong idea. She just wanted to try smoking for the first time and, uh, wanted the smoke to burn less, so we just… shotgunned a few hits.”

Nancy looked at you in disbelief. “Did you, like, completely miss the part where she called you a goddess?”

“No, but that’s, like, how girls talk to each other. It doesn’t mean anything, Nance.” You sighed, refusing to once again spiral into the possibility that Robin liked you back. 

Nancy just stared at you. 

“What?” you said, exasperated. 

She sighed your name dramatically. “I know you’re being pragmatic, but Jesus, just let yourself see the very realistic, good possibility in front of you!”

You opened your mouth to reply, but, as suddenly as he had appeared the last time, Steve swooped down and sat next to you, greeting you with your name. 

“Nance. I would like to see you in the kitchen, please,” he said, his words laden with obvious hidden meaning. 

“Oh, um… sure?” Nancy replied, frowning at the interruption. 

“I promise,” he continued, glancing over at you briefly, “that this is in both of our vested interests.”

You scrunched your face in confusion, but Nancy’s face lit up with understanding, nodding as she took Steve’s hand and quickly trailed after him to the kitchen, throwing back a quick, “Be right back!”

You sighed, shrugging to yourself as you glanced around the room, enjoying the high that settled throughout your body. Steve and Nancy grabbed Eddie by the arm and pulled him out of the room, too. You rolled your eyes. They were definitely up to something. Something to do with Robin. Robin. You smiled softly.

Once your mind was on her, it didn’t leave. You daydreamed, thoughts of her smile and gorgeous self flitting through your brain. 

You didn’t really know how long you sat there, high wearing off, as you ran through daydream after daydream of Robin, of holding her hand, kissing her, getting to be hers. All you know is that you must have had the dreamiest look on your face because the next thing you knew, Argyle (seriously, where did that dude live?) was waving his hand in front of your face. 

“Hey, dudette, you look suuuper spaced out. Purple Palm Tree Delight hit you too hard tonight? Or do you have someone else on your mind?” he lulled. 

You blinked rapidly, trying to assess exactly how much time had passed and how stupid the face you were making was. 

“Oh. Um… No, I was just thinking about—”

“Not to worry, my friend. You may be super obvious, but the object of your desires has yet to catch on. Not that it would be bad if it did, though,” he said cryptically before walking away, his hair fluttering behind him. 

You gaped, incredibly confused, as you tried to decipher his meaning. Not that it would be bad?

 It wasn’t long you had to wonder, though, before the rest of the party came streaming into the room. You ran through the list of names in your head: Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, Robin, Eddie, Argyle, maybe Argyle’s girlfriend, and a few others that you recognized but couldn’t quite name. You trailed toward the middle of the room where everyone was congregating, heart skipping a few times as Robin found you, face lighting up with a smile and giving your shoulder a squeeze. 

“What’s going on?” you whispered to Robin as you let yourself be corralled into a circle, Eddie’s voice cutting through the drone of the crowd, insisting people sit in formation. You complied quickly, not wanting to incur his wrath. 

She shrugged, dropping into criss-cross applesauce so close next to you that your legs completely overlapped. You could feel the warmth of her leg so firmly against yours, a tangible reminder of the love and life inside her you liked so much. She pulled your hand over to her knee, holding on lightly. You swallowed a sigh, blushing furiously. The weed still left in your system made it feel amplified, electric even. 

“Whatever it is, I’m definitely scared. They came up with it in the kitchen and wouldn’t let me see.”

A clap from Eddie snapped you out of your continued conversation. 

“Alright! Now, because we are grown adults about as immature as they come, Harrington and I have decided we will be playing the oldest game in the middle school book.”

He shook something behind his back ominously before slowly revealing a ball cap full of slips of paper. 

“Seven minutes in heaven.”

Noise filled the small space as the room split reactions. Overpowering were laughs, people who were down for a stupid game sure to cause entertainment. Less so were groans from the more reluctant part of the group, likely leaning less toward the immature side that Steve had mentioned. You noticed Robin next to you giving a nervous giggle. 

You remained quiet, wide-eyed at the suggestion. The heat of Robin’s leg against yours seemed to grow hotter, her presence making you hyper aware. 

Might not be so bad…

Your eyes flicked over to Robin, and you found her already looking back at you, expression unreadable. You knew your face was heating up, but really, you were kind of entranced by Robin’s gaze on you.

Eddie’s voice ruined it once again, and you about-faced. “Now, the bowl of names is already made,” he said, shaking the hat, “so let’s set some ground rules.” He stood up straight, speaking more seriously.

“One, and this should go without saying, don’t fuckin’ make anyone do anything. Be real,” he started, tone already chastising.

“Two: what happens in the closet stays in the closet. You don’t have to kiss and tell, or not kiss and tell, if you don’t want. We’re all grown ups here.

“And three: absolutely NO bodily fluids touch the carpet. If you are found in violation, you will be publicly humiliated,” Eddie finished with a smile, at least partially joking on the last part. A titter of laughter followed.

Robin’s leg was now searing hot on yours.

“Now, Stevie here has lovingly volunteered to go first, just to get the ball rolling. King Harrington, the honors?” Eddie reached the hat out, bowing slightly and shaking the contents.

Steve laughed a little, fingers wiggling over the slips of paper as if he could get a sense of which to choose. He finally landed on one toward the top, plucking it dramatically from the pile.

It crinkled as he opened it, eyes scanning the paper before his eyebrows raised slightly.

“Uh, it’s Nancy.”

The room ooh-ed as Steve rolled his eyes and offered his hand to Nancy, who made a similar face as she accepted, standing to meet him. They made their way to the spacious closet, door clicking shut behind them.

Robin nudged you, leaning in to whisper in your ear as conversations resumed around you.

“It took me a while to believe, but Steve is definitely over her. He has his eye on someone else. I don’t think anything’s gonna happen in there,” she said, voice low and raspy. A shiver ran down your spine at her hot breath in your ear.

WIth a little frown, you replied, “Yeah, Nance, too. She apologized to him a while back, for how things went down. She’s definitely over him, though.”

Robin hummed, and you held your breath as her hand started rubbing circles over yours. 

“Do you… think you’ll kiss anyone?” she said slowly, not meeting your eyes.

You hesitated, eyes jumping between Robin’s eyes and her hand on yours.

“I– I don’t really know. I guess it would depend on the person.” A beat. “What about you?”

Robin sighed, a long and weary breath that you weren’t used to hearing from her.

“I don’t think so. I’m kinda… hung up on someone.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet, and you felt lightheaded, like someone had sucked the air out of the room. 

“Oh.”

Robin pressed on, her grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I don’t think I would kiss anyone but them.”

Them. 

“Oh.”

Your eyes dropped to your hands pressed together in her lap, a violent blush rising to your cheeks as you tried to tamp down the hope, the possibility, blooming within you.

Robin laughed humorlessly, eyebrows tight and holding your hand in a vice grip now as she said, “Yeah. Oh. Why does everyone always say it like that?”

You panicked, hating the pseudo dramatic irony that had built up between you, and you scrambled for something, anything to say that would assuage Robin’s worries, simultaneously trying to overcome the panic of coming out to her.

“Not bad oh! Definitely not– not bad oh, Rob. I mean, for the record, I don’t think I would kiss anyone except the—” you cleared your throat. “Except the girl I was hung up on, either.”

Robin’s hand stilled, and you actually felt her breath catch in her throat. Slowly, her head pivoted toward you, a small smile creeping over her face.

“No shit?” she giggled.

“No shit,” you laughed in reply, giddy at all the possibilities that opened up in front of you.

“Jesus, and I thought I was the only one left in Hawkins,” Robin said, hand now painfully tight over yours.

You flexed your hand under hers. “Jeez, Rob, you’re gonna cut off my circulation,” you complained, still smiling painfully.

Robin immediately looked worried, loosening her grip and drawing away quickly.

“Shit, I’m sorry—”

“No!” you cut her off, pulling her hand back to you. She looked slightly startled, so you smiled sheepishly. “No, sorry, I just mean— don’t let go, just loosen up a little.”

You were sure you were fire-engine red, wide-eyed at your all-but-confession, and Robin looked at you similarly, eyebrows crooked in a silent, unanswered question, but, differently, a smile pinched at her lips, eyes soft as she gazed at you.

Which, of course, was the moment Eddie called time and brought Steve and Nancy back in the room, both looking thoroughly un-kissed as they rolled their eyes at the jests that met them once they left the closet.

Steve plopped down to your left, giving you a kind smile as he reached around and thumped Robin on the shoulder.

“Nothing to report?” Robin asked quietly.

“Oh, believe me, absolutely nothing,” Steve sighed, looking satisfied. He looked at you. “I think we’re going counterclockwise, so, get ready.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you noticed Eddie heading toward you with the ballcap. With no time to mentally prepare yourself, you just stood up when he offered you his hand, realizing you were still a little high when you indulged him with a reciprocated bow. 

When he offered you the hat full of the slips of paper, you only hesitated slightly before plunging your hand in and quickly drawing out the first one your fingers closed around.

You held your breath as you thumbed open the folded paper.

Robin

The name slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and the room filled with noise, loud comments and playful catcalls alike. Nearly everyone in here knew about your embarrassing crush, you realized. Even Argyle and his girlfriend, by the looks of it.

Robin looked like a fish out of water, eyes wide as she scrambled to her feet, rushing over to meet you in the center of the circle. You didn’t have a chance to say anything to each other before Eddie was corralling both of you into the closet as if he were herding cattle. You could barely protest (as if you wanted to) before the door clicked shut, leaving you and Robin in the soft glow of the lone small lamp in the corner.

“Robin…” you started, but she cut you off abruptly.

“Listen, you can totally, like, punch me if I’m wrong, I mean, like, feel free to kill me, even but I’m just gonna try something because I think I finally figured something out and, yeah, I’m just gonna—”

And then she cut herself off by kissing you.

You gasped into your mouth, only hesitating for a second before kissing back earnestly. If this meant what you think it meant, you would follow along blindly to the ends of the earth, and even if it was just for tonight, you would take whatever you could get.

Robin’s chapstick tasted like root beer, you realized distantly. Did she always wear root beer? Would you ever find out?

Robin pulled away slightly.

“Dude, I can hear you thinking from here,” she whispered. “Did I get it wrong, am I not—”

“No, no way, you didn’t get it wrong at all!” you cut her off. “I just…”

With a sigh, you swallowed your pride. “I’m just, like, stupidly in love with you and wondering if this is a one-time thing.”

Robin just stared at you for a second, beautiful face illuminated by the soft light.

“Oh my god, we’re such idiots,” she giggled.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. Seeing the look on your face, Robin lifted up a hand to your cheek, stroking it softly. “I’m stupidly in love with you, too, dingus,” she whispered before bringing your lips together again.

This time, when you gasped in her mouth, she took it in stride, slipping her lips open and taking your bottom lips between hers. You went light headed at the sensation, gleefully kissing back, chasing the taste of her root beer chapstick. A little overeager, you pushed further into Robin, causing her to stumble backwards a few steps. She giggled into your mouth, pulling you down to a sitting position.

After a second of maneuvering, you were both sitting back on your knees, leaning forward clumsily to meet lips again. Her hand wrapped itself through the hair at the base of your neck, the other hand caressing your cheek softly. Your hands were a little less coordinated, grasping desperately at the shirt she was wearing. 

Robin was a good kisser, you thought absently, a twist of jealousy running through you as you considered who she might have gotten good with. A particularly delicious slide of her lips against yours banished the thought completely, and you whimpered thoughtlessly into her mouth. 

Robin chuckled against you, easing forward slowly. You began to lose your balance as she pushed into you, but then you realized that was exactly what she wanted. You broke off for a second, taking the opportunity to lay back on the ground. Robin hovered over you, smiling down as she softly traced her hand up your arm. 

“So now you’re a mind reader, huh?” she teased before bracketing your body with her arms and reclaiming your lips with hers. 

Kissing Robin, you decided, was your new favorite pastime. She had you in a puddle under her, nibbling and sucking at your bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue. Your hands clung to her desperately, winding through her hair and collar. 

Before long, you felt Robin’s knee make contact with your clothed center. You gasped into her mouth, needily squirming down to find friction. 

“Robbie,” you muttered against her lips. “We don’t have much time.”

Robin smiled at you, eyes dark as she replied, “Don’t worry, I can be quick.” 

With that, her knee increased pressure and you let out a whimper at the delicious friction. You were barely high anymore, but you had forgotten how horny weed made you, the evidence already damp against your underwear. 

“Are you sure?” you whispered as Robin’s hands trailed under your shirt. Her hands stilled for a second. 

“I’ve wanted this for an embarrassingly long time, so, yes, I’m very sure,” she said, breath heavy. “You?”

You nodded vigorously. “Same.”

Her hands resumed motion as she smiled, head dipping to your throat and placing open-mouthed kisses as her hands trailed softly over your nipples. 

You moaned in earnest, shuddering at the feeling. 

“Shh, baby, everyone’s just out there,” Robin teased, sucking a fresh bruise into your collarbone. At the same moment, you heard loud music start playing from the adjoining room. You blushed furiously at the idea of everyone hearing you. 

Your hands needed something to do as you lay there, pliant and willing to Robin’s wishes. You groaned at the continued friction from her knee, and suddenly felt the need to give her the same. Your hands shot out, grasping her hips and rubbing circles into her hipbones, inching slowly toward the center. 

Robin’s breath hitched as she realized what you were doing. When you hand reached the waistline of her jeans, you quickly unbuttoned and unzipped them. Wasting no time, you maneuvered your hand over her panties, cupping her harshly and rubbing back and forth. A moan vibrated against your neck and you noticed your hand was already sticky with her wetness. 

She broke off of your neck to sigh at the contact. Her supporting arm trembled next to you. 

“Babe, my arm is tired and we’re probably running out of time,” she said, voice cracking as she lifted off the ground and pulled back slightly. 

You frowned slightly, tempted to pull her back down to you. “Oh. Did you wanna stop and cool off or something?”

Robin shook her head quickly, peeling her jeans off quickly and scooting further down your body. 

“No, I’m gonna eat you out,” she said, meeting your eyes mischievously. 

Your jaw dropped and a wave of heat wracked your body, settling strongly in your core. Your hips shifted up as Robin moved to slip your pants and underwear off. 

“Where…” you swallowed thickly, heat reaching your face. “Do you know how?”

Robin smiled sheepishly as she dropped kisses up your legs. “I’ve been taught, but I haven’t exactly… put it in practice.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean…” 

Robin quirked her eyebrows slightly, and you caught on. 

“Oh! Ew, I’m not thinking about Steve right now,” you said, brain hazing more and more as Robin neared your center. 

“Definitely not,” she agreed, hot breath fanning over your inner thighs. 

A slightly tentative tongue dipped into your folds, running slowly up and down from clit to hole. At your first low moan, Robin became slightly more confident, pressure increasing and running circles over your clit. 

You were in heaven, embarrassingly close already. You hand grasped Robin’s hair tightly, and she moaned slightly before pulling off of you. 

“No. I want you to touch your tits,” she said, voice raspy and eyes dark. 

Your breath hitched at the command, finding you liked this side of Robin… a lot. You nodded, pulling your shirt over your chest with a whimper. You ran one hand across your underboob, the other hand taking a nipple and harshly tweaking. 

“Good,” Robin said, a little smug, before she brought her mouth against you again. 

This time, she ran her tongue up and down a few times, spreading your wetness, before wrapping her lips around your clit and suckling softly. A loud moan ripped its way out of you, and you’d never been more thankful for loud party music. 

Robin continued like that, suction over your clit as she also ran her tongue over the sensitive spot. You felt your walls flutter around nothing. 

As if Robin could read your mind, you felt a warm finger tease your entrance.

“Please, Robbie, yes,” you babbled, gasping loudly. 

She broke away for a second and said, “Fucking Christ, I like to hear you beg.”

One finger slipped in easily, crooked upward. It felt delicious but it was nowhere near enough. You whined. 

“Use your words,” Robin said, drawing your eyes back toward her. “Please,” she added, looking slightly unsure. 

You giggled slightly, as much as you could manage through the haze of pleasure, bringing a hand down to stroke her hair affectionately. 

Her finger moved and you gasped, suddenly back to your urgent need at hand. 

“Please… another finger.”

Robin smiled, saying, “There we go,” before slipping in a second finger, crooked upward just the same. She simultaneously latched back on to your clit, sucking and licking as though her life depended on it. 

“Oh, God,” you choked out as you grew closer and closer to the edge. Your hands grasped for purchase, and you found yourself grasping your chest, just like Robin had told you earlier. 

“Robin, I’m so—” you cut yourself off with a moan. 

Robin hummed against you, glancing up at you through her eyelashes. That, combined with the mind-numbing friction of a particular out stroke, had you tumbling over the edge. The pressure on your clit exploded, and your walls dragged Robin’s fingers in deep. 

“Fuck, Robin, oohhhh,” you moaned loudly. 

Robin worked you through it, kitten licking your clit to prolong the sensation, her fingers still inside you as your walls pulsed around them. You gasped for air, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing against you. 

Finally, you came down, panting through the aftershocks. You started scooting to meet Robin, but she stopped you in your tracks. 

“Just sit there… and look pretty,” she said through heavy breaths. She pulled you into a sitting position, grabbing your shoulders before settling on your thigh. 

“Do you not want me to do anything?” you asked, hands settling on her hips. 

Realization struck you as she started rocking on your thigh, hard. She had already soaked through her underwear, leaving a sticky wet patch on your leg, and you let out a soft whimper at how utterly sexy she looked. 

“You can—fuck, oh my god—suck on my tits,” she moaned, eyes slipping shut as she ground herself down hard and fast. 

You obliged quickly, licking a small circle around her right nipple. Robin keened above you at the contact. You sucked a hickey on the swell of her underboob, right next to her nipple. 

“Ohh, God,” Robin moaned vocally, movements quickening as your tongue moved to flick over her nipple. You wrapped your lips around it and sucked softly. 

Robin was loud. You felt yourself start to get wet again as you listened to the high-pitched sighs that escaped her mouth with every breath, her head tossed back in absolute pleasure as she ground herself with unrelenting pressure into your thigh

“I’m gonna—fucking—Oh my God,” she said breathlessly as her movements became sporadic. 

You scraped your teeth over her nipple and that was all it took. Robin barely suppressed a yelled-out moan, hips stuttering as she let off the pressure but continued rocking her hips, her hands in a vice grip on your shoulders. You rocked her hips through it, soothing her until she fell forward onto you, sweaty and spent. 

You both caught your breath, laughing lightly and exchanging small kisses. 

With a gasp, you remembered why the hell you two were in there initially. 

“Robin! It’s been way longer than seven minutes!” you said, panicked. 

Robin’s eyes widened, and with a small shit, you both began scrambling to put on your clothes and get the hell out of the closet. 

You pushed the door open, bursting once again in the bright room, Robin right behind you. You found everyone talking amongst themselves over loud music. 

“Why didn’t anyone get us?” you nearly shrieked. 

Nearly everyone’s heads swiveled around to you both. 

“Fucking finally!” Nancy said, raising a glass in your direction. There were similar agreements from everyone else, a toast practically made in your names. 

“What?” you said, confused. Robin wore a similar face next to you. 

Steve nudged the baseball cap over to you. “Check the papers,” was all he said. 

Brow furrowed, you bent down to rifle through the slips and unfold them. Realization crept over you, along with a blush. 

They all said Robin. 

Robin gasped behind you, pointing an accusatory finger at Steve. “You rigged it!”

Steve just shrugged with a smile. 

“I mean, it worked, right?” 

You pinched your lips together. He did have a point. 

He raised his eyebrows, now looking at Robin. 

“And it sounds like the lessons worked. We had to put the music on.”

You sputtered, turning red. Robin stifled a laugh next to you. 

Steve grinned. “Cigarette?” 

[mariaofdoranelle]

Wedding Break

Masterlist

I really hope you’re in a modern royalty/runaway bride mood today

Warnings: only language I think

Word count: 2,1k

~~~~~~~~~~

“Which Whitethorn do you think is the hottest?” Aelin said a millisecond before shoving her phone on Aedion’s sight.

Her cousin playfully slapped her hand away. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your speech?”

“It’s either this or hearing about carbon monoxide one more time for you.”

As beautiful as Queen Maeve’s castle was with its tiny streams and walls of pale stone, Aelin just wanted to fast-forward to when she actually got to do her first official task, or at least forget about it until it was time. For someone who have begged for a more active role in the government for years, she was feeling too much like a deer in the headlights.

Muttering something unintelligible to himself, Aedion zoomed in the picture with everyone from the House of Whitethorn and quickly assessed it.

“Tattooed Whitethorn.”

Aelin looked at the picture and bit her lip. “Agreed. I think his name is Ronan or something.”

“They could’ve picked this one for you to marry.”

Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?” Aelin knew she’d have to marry someone eventually, but she didn’t even like to think about the nightmare it would be. Being crown princess, every formal step of her love life needed to be approved by her dad and the Royal Council, and she had enough battles of her own with them for now.

Aedion cackled, not sensing her distress or maybe because of it. “Didn’t you open Twitter today? The tabloids are saying you’re engaged with Prince Endymion.”

Gaping at her cousin, she was somewhere between laughing and frowning at this new piece of information. “Isn’t he gay? I know we both dated Dorian.”

“I’m pretty sure he is, too.” A beat. “God, I wonder how they came up with this one.”

They kept scrolling on their respective couches, sometimes chatting about things they saw online, but something about this rumor was bothering her. Aelin blocked her phone and rubbed the back of her neck, brows creased in thought. This wasn’t the first, neither would be the last false rumor about her love life. It was so common she didn’t mind anymore. What was irking Aelin was where their attention was. She was here to bring attention to carbon monoxide. Greenhouse effect. Global warming. Not to have her outfits and love life scrutinized by Doranelle’s tabloids.

Aelin cleared her throat, gathering Aedion’s attention.

“Don’t you think these rumors kinda undermine the real reason I’m here? It makes people forget the purpose of my trip and—“

“You know you’re only here because Rhoe’s boys’ club don’t give a fuck about the environment, right?”

Aelin flinched, hating how sometimes Aedion could see right through her. He straightened his posture and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m sorry, Ace. It’s hard to get over this. You keep running around the castle, waiting for kernels like a damn pet—“

“I’m not a pet!” Aelin shouted, tired of having the same argument with Aedion for the millionth time.

He raised both hands in surrender and left, banging the ancient wooden door.

With a pounding heartbeat, Aelin got up and started pacing around the room. He would never get it. If she couldn’t get her voice heard in the council because of her position as crown princess, Aelin would work until she earned that spot. And it was already happening. Her dad put her in charge of Terrasen’s environmental policies as a 21st birthday gift, and there she was. Months later, only beginning to kick ass with her new task.

Aelin did a quick breathing exercise to calm herself down, too consumed by these thoughts, the gossip, her fight with Aedion and probably every single moment of the past months that led her to this. Aelin couldn’t post online without her PR’s approval, so she decided to ask Nox, the head of the team, to deny the rumors on social media. He saw her text almost immediately and left it on read, but Aelin’s shoulders still dropped in relief by the sight of it. He’d fix it soon.

~~

Doranelle’s weather was so hot Aelin took her first cold bath in months, and it was as refreshing as it could be. Honestly, she felt like a new woman, or at least in a new day. She had a tiny headache and her jaw felt sore, but it was fine. She was fine. If Aelin didn’t think about today’s previous events, she wouldn’t feel any kind of residual anger or bitterness. If she was still mad. Because she obviously wasn’t.

Choosing a pale blue dress for lunch, Aelin was finishing her makeup when her mom barged into the room.

“Why are you dressed up so early? Lunch is in more than an hour.”

Aelin sighed, feeling the weight of her shoulders quickly come back. “I needed the bath.”

Evalin smiled at her. “You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just like that, her mother’s words felt like sunshine making its way through dark clouds. Aelin beamed up at her mom, proud of herself because—

“But what happened to your hair? You can’t have lunch with the Whitethorns looking like this.”

Aelin’s cheeks burned, but she held her chin high to answer her mother. “I saw it on TikTok and decided to try. Everyone’s wearing it, it’s really no big deal.”

She gently caressed her daughter’s hair and held her chin for emphasis. “Not everyone is Terrasen’s heir, dear.” Evalin made a show of analyzing Aelin’s hairstyle before saying, “It looks interesting, just make sure the royal family doesn’t see you in it, okay?”

Nodding, she just let her mother talk her ears off until the endless reminders about that visit ended. When Evalin was about to leave, Aelin reminded of something.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Evalin asked from the threshold of Aelin’s assigned bedroom.

“Can you ask Nox to deny my engagement rumors? I asked him too long ago and maybe he forgot.” Both of them knew this was a nice way of putting that the PR team was busy, and Aelin’s requests weren’t a priority.

The sight of Evalin taking a deep breath and coming back in, closing the door, was enough to give Aelin heart palpitations. But nothing prepared her to what she’d hear next.

“Fireheart, I’m afraid your engagement rumors are true.”

Just like that, Aelin’s body, mind, her whole world came to a halt.

No, they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Aelin started feeling light-headed and leaned the palm against the wall. Her mom had promised that when the time came, they’d make the decision together. They’d let Aelin choose.

“You’re joking.”

“I know you’re upset now, but you know Terrasen’s going through a crisis, and Queen Maeve was kind enough to—“

“What about you letting me choose?” She shouted.

Evalin took a deep breath and plastered a forced smile on her face. “Like I was saying, we reached another countries too, to give you a choice, but Queen Maeve had a better offer, so—“

“So you sold me to the highest bidder! Is that it?”

Her mother’s silent confirmation made Aelin shut her eyes closed, a poor attempt to keep her tears at bay.

“When are we going back? I need to speak with dad,” Aelin said in a strained tone.

“We’re staying until the wedding, which will be in less than three months. He’ll come to the ceremony, though.” Evalin’s voice sounded more gentle now, but Aelin couldn’t see her expression because of the tears blurring her vision. She just heard her mother’s heeled footsteps and the sound of the door closing.

Aelin’s muscles went limp, so she collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall, and didn’t bother doing any exercises to control her quick breathing.

It was hard to feel time moving when she was overwhelmed with so many questions running through her head. How could her family do this behind her back? Since when was this going on? Was her first assignment just a ruse to bring her to Doranelle?

With a caved-in chest, Aelin probably looked miserable crumbled on the floor like this. She felt too tired to do anything, but what got her up was the thought of what would her mother say if she saw Aelin’s tear-stained make up. Still, cleaning herself up sent a spark of something through her veins.

Maybe, if she talked to her father, they could figure out another way together. Aelin knew part of being queen was abdicating, but maybe they could meet halfway in this. Finishing her new makeup, Aelin held her chin high as she made her choice.

She was going back to Terrasen to talk with her father.

Leaving her bedroom, it was easy to get lost in this castle’s long halls. She had no idea how one place could be so open and look so much like a labyrinth at the same time. However, Aelin released a small breath in relief by the sight of what looked like a small gate.

The guard curtsied. “Your Highness. Good afternoon.”

And did nothing more.

After a few stretches of silence, she said, “Can you open this for me, please?”

His hand hovered over his earpiece as he asked, “Where to?”

“Out.” Aelin said through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid you can’t leave this wing of the castle without an escort, ma’am.”

What the fuck? “Are you serious?”

Aelin didn’t bother hearing what he had to say, her ears were ringing as she stomped her way back to her bedroom. This had Evalin written all over it. So typical of her mother to treat Aelin like a ticking bomb whenever she got angry, like her own daughter was a situation that needed to be handled. She was so tired of this bullshit.

Aelin couldn’t cross a gate? Awesome. She’d make her own fucking gate to cross.

After getting back and slamming her bedroom’s door, Aelin quickly noted that her easiest way to the outside was a tree that was too short to jump from her balcony. She looked down, studying the sight. But if Aelin could get to the balcony underneath hers... She’d have perfect leverage to get to the tree.

Not thinking twice, Aelin ripped the mattress from her dull guest bedroom and wrapped it around her balcony’s ornate iron railing. Holding on the handrail for dear life, she crossed to the outer side of the barrier, and managed to find balance with half of her feet touching the rest of the balcony’s floor she had. She could feel the wind hitting her back and hear some hawks screeching far from her, but she couldn’t let fear paralyze her. Aelin took one last deep breath.

And then she jumped.

Aelin felt like her heart was free-falling, or maybe that was because she was free-falling herself. However, the gust of wind felt good for just one second, until her forehead hit the building, making her curse this city one more time. Why was this castle made of stone?

Noticing she was still depending on that short mattress to live, Aelin angled her body and swayed it enough to land inside the downstairs balcony.

Feeling every bone in her body ache from that crash, she only gave herself a few seconds to rest while analyzing that tree. She just needed to figure out the best angle to climb on that branch and—

“What the hell are you doing?”

A tall, green-eyed man was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. He was dressed casually, with sweatpants and a black t-shirt that emphasized the ink that ran down his left arm. The same muscled, tattooed arm that gave her very improper thoughts earlier today. Somehow, the photos didn’t do Roman Whitethorn justice. Or something. God, why couldn’t she get his name right?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” He insisted, and Aelin just realized she was staring blankly at him. Her scheming abilities let her come up with a plan in the seconds that took her to get up and straighten her posture.

She curtsied. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance, Your Highness. I’m working, and I need to retrieve something from this tree. Now if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait. What’s your name?” As serious as he tried to school his expression, the prince’s eyes were twinkling with amusement, and Aelin wondered why.

“Celaena,” she let the lie slip through her lips not for the first time, but this situation specifically left her feeling her pulse go a mile a minute.

He hummed. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

A/N: I have some sequel ideas, let me know what you think!

Edit: Now I’m definitely continuing this and here’s a snippet of what’s to come

HERE’S PART 2 and I’ll make a masterlist soon I promise

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[sluttyten]

#25, #37 and #181 for Jungwoo or Jaehyun ❤️‍🔥

Jungwoo or Jaehyun + “shit, i forgot just how tight you are.” + meeting them at a house party and sneaking off to fuck them in the bathroom. + you being their best friend’s younger sibling.

When your brother Mark met his best friend, when he moved in with him, you thought for sure you’d cracked it and that your brother was gay and his best friend was his secret boyfriend. They were constantly together--going on trips, going out to dinner, going shopping together--so it wasn’t like it was a crazy leap in logic. But then one night, Mark was out of town, you needed a place to stay, so he told you to go stay at his place. 

Neither you or Jungwoo ever admitted to Mark the truth of that night. How you’d been sitting on the sofa with Jungwoo, venting to him, and when you’d mentioned in an offhand way how he was your brother’s boyfriend (like, obviously), Jungwoo paused and looked at you with the most adorably confused look on his face.

“I’m not his boyfriend. We’re honest to God just friends.” He holds his hand over his heart. “I’m into you, not Mark.”

In the space after those words, your entire worldview rearranged. You looked at Jungwoo, at the way he was looking at you, leaned towards you in comfortable casualness, and you realized that yeah, you could be into him too.

He fucked you right there on that sofa that night, and again in the shower the next morning, and before you left for the day, you made it clear to Jungwoo that sleeping with him meant nothing more than that you found him attractive too. You didn’t want your brother to know, and you didn’t plan to let it happen again. It had been perhaps a lapse in judgement to have sex with your brother’s best friend.

Weeks go by, and then months. You and Jungwoo are perfectly normal around each other, not letting that night interfere in any way. And then Mark throws a housewarming party when he and Jungwoo move out of their cramped apartment and start renting a house together with a few other friends. 

It’s the kind of housewarming that your other family members aren’t invited to. It feels more like a frat party than a housewarming.

There’s people everywhere. All over the lawn, filling every inch of the house you’d just helped your brother move his furniture into. You recognize a few of them as close friends of your brother that you’ve met before, but for the most part, you don’t know these people. You assume many of them are friends of the friends he’s moved in with, but you don’t even know any of those people other than Jungwoo.

So, you do your best to make new friends.

You meet a few lovely people before you finally meet Jaehyun. 

He seems nice, very friendly and handsome. You meet him over a tray of snacks you just know your brother sat out, and you start talking to him, small talk that quickly takes a turn when you both realize a mutual interest. That conversation carries you away from the snacks to standing outside, and once you’ve made it outside, you realize that someone’s set up a game of beer pong.

“Jae!” The guy at one end of the table calls as soon as he spots Jaehyun. “We need someone to play against!”

Jaehyun looks at you. “Want to be my partner?”

You hate the idea of leaving his side, knowing that if you do, some other girl that’s been eyeing him all night would quickly sweep in to try to fill your spot. 

So, it’s possibly one of the best decisions you’ve made yet that night to be his partner for beer pong because you win, and in the joy of victory, Jaehyun sweeps you into a hug and promises you that he owes you a prize. He quickly makes it clear that that prize is a fresh drink that’s not beer with a ball floating in it.

You could care less about getting another drink, but you go along with him as Jaehyun attempts to swim through the crowd of people that have gathered for this party now. You cling to his arm (his bare, well-chiseled biceps), and you never let your eyes leave the sight of his head (a backwards hat resting on his long black hair). 

When Jaehyun finds the way to the kitchen almost impossible to pass through due to it being a small room filled with alcohol and too many people trying to drink that alcohol, he sighs and stops, leaning against the wall and tugging you close to avoid you getting knocked into by the people passing behind you.

“Well, there goes my planned prize for you,” Jaehyun sighs, looking at you with this look that swells a hope inside you. “Guess I should treat you with something else.”

“I have an idea,” you venture, pressing forward a little more, letting your hand slide up his arm. “If you’re interested, you could be my prize, and I’ll be yours.”

“I’ll take that. Gladly.” Jaehyun’s gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips.

Before either of you can back down, decide that maybe you’re too buzzed to make a solid decision right now, you grab his hand and pull him away from the mass of people waiting to get inside the kitchen. You lead him upstairs, heading right for the bathroom you know is at the end of the hallway beside one of Mark’s housemate’s rooms.

You think you hear someone call your name downstairs, but over the music, it’s difficult to tell, and you refuse to let yourself be distracted away from Jaehyun.

You pull him inside the bathroom. Jaehyun closes the door behind him, and as soon as he’s turned to face you again, you all but launch yourself at him. 

Jaehyun’s teeth clack against yours. His warm fingers dig into your ass and thighs, and you clutch desperately at Jaehyun’s face, holding his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss as he stumbles deeper inside the bathroom with you. You feel the plasticky brush of the shower curtain, and then your back hits cool tile. 

Jaehyun has you against the shower wall, the scent of body wash filling your nose, and your moan echoes off the tile when Jaehyun slips his hand inside your panties. His fingers are expert, skilled at getting you off, toying with your clit and then he’s two fingers deep, rubbing your clit now as well as stimulating you from the inside. 

“Told you I’d give you a prize. You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my fingers?” Jaehyun kisses his words against your throat, and then he closes his lips around a sensitive spot and sucks.

Not that you want Jaehyun to know, but it’s been months since the last time you had sex, since the last time you orgasmed, so as the climax hits right now, your vision goes white, and your senses are overwhelmed on every side.

The volume in the room increases to a dull roar in your ears, and your fingers dig into Jaehyun’s shoulders, your body arching as he keeps going, pushing your orgasm to last longer and longer on his fingers. You moan his name softly between gasps, like an ecstatic prayer.

Your eyes flutter open, and you realize that the volume in the room isn’t just the buzz of pleasure and the pounding of your heartbeat anymore.

The dull roar of the party cuts out significantly when Jungwoo shuts the door behind him. Jaehyun’s head snaps up from where he’s been trying to leave his mark on your throat. Jungwoo clears his throat, “Don’t mind me, Jae, I just came up for a piss. But you should probably know that’s our housemate’s sister you’re fingering.”

Housemate? Jaehyun’s one of Mark’s new housemates? Shit, you drop your head back, in disbelief that you’ve done this again, fucking with your brother’s friend.

“Shit,” Jaehyun whispers quietly against your skin. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.”

“She has a thing for fucking her brother’s best friends.” Jungwoo turns his back on the pair of you, and you realize that he genuinely is using the toilet right now. Unbelievable. He couldn’t have just walked out to use one of the other two bathrooms in this house when he saw that this one was occupied?

“Jealous, Jungwoo?” You push lightly at Jaehyun’s shoulders until he steps back, freeing up enough space for you to straighten your clothes. “It’s not a good look on you.”

Jungwoo laughs. “Why would I be jealous? We had sex one night, and never spoke about it again.”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t want it to happen again.” You walk up right behind him. “Do you think I haven’t caught you looking at me?”

Jungwoo turns to face you. “What about you looking at me? Have you not spent any lonely nights since then thinking of me? Remembering the way I touched you, how it felt when you fell apart for me?”

Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m still standing right here, you know. If you’re gonna have this weird moment, at least let me leave.” He starts to step around you, to squeeze by both you and Jungwoo, but you reach out to touch his arm.

“Don’t go. I want you to stay. You’re the one I brought in here. Not Jungwoo.” You squeeze Jaehyun’s wrist. 

“Maybe you two just need to fuck it out of each other again,” Jaehyun recommends. “Don’t let me get in the way of that.”

You don’t let go of his wrist even when he tugs, instead you hold tighter. Something he said gave you an idea. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to be in the way, Jaehyun. What if, and either of you can say no, but what if we all got what we wanted?”

You know for a fact it would be the end of you if Mark ever learned that you’d had sex with not just one of his bestfriends, and not even just that you had sex with two of his best friends, but the fact that you had sex with two of them at the same time in the bathroom of the house he’s renting with said best friends, yeah, you would be over if he knew.

So you definitely don’t let risk letting him find out.

This time you lock the door. You don’t want anyone walking in when you’re leaning your elbows on the low countertop of the sink in that bathroom, blowing Jungwoo with your panties around your ankles while Jaehyun fucks you. You don’t want anyone to walk in when Jaehyun pulls you back up against his chest, when Jungwoo steps closer and edges his fingers in alongside Jaehyun’s cock.

Something about the coordinated way that they move with each other, the way neither voices a complaint as Jungwoo stretches your pussy around him and Jaehyun’s cocks, something about that strikes you as odd. Not premeditated necessarily, just practiced, like maybe they’ve fucked a girl together before.

If you thought your orgasm on just Jaehyun’s fingers after so long without sex was amazing, then the orgasm you experience on both of their cocks is world-ending. You feel yourself breaking apart at the edges, the pleasure going and going as they neither one stop when they feel you cumming around them. 

Jungwoo kisses you even when your head falls back against Jaehyun’s shoulder, tasting the pathetic whimpers and pleas of more that spill from your lips. Jaehyun snaps his hips forwards harder, driving himself closer and closer to his own orgasm. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, shooting his load inside you, is enough to have you cumming again.

Jaehyun pulls out, but he stays right there beside you, his chest against your back, his arms around you, holding you up as Jungwoo keeps fucking you. You’re sensitive now, so sensitive and it hurts but it feels so good, and you keep clenching around Jungwoo. 

“Shit, baby,” Jungwoo hisses and groans. “I forgot just how tight you are. I’ve missed you. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

You feel like a white hot star on the verge of collapse by the time that Jungwoo cums, his fingers twitching over your clit just to draw a final orgasm from you. This is all much more than you’ve felt in a long time, or possibly more than you’ve ever felt. 

Jaehyun supports you against his chest as Jungwoo steps back. Your legs feel useless when your feet touch the floor, and you have Jaehyun to thank for you not completely collapsing. He holds you, slowly leaning back against the wall and sinking even more slowly to the floor with you. You feel like you could never move again and be perfectly happy. 

“I’ve got her, she’s fine,” you hear Jaehyun say. “Go back out to the party. I can help her clean up, can get her to bed. Should I put her in Mark’s room?”

“No,” you murmur, “Put me in Jungwoo’s bed. Mark wouldn’t think that’s weird for me to be there.”

Jaehyun goes a little stiff at the idea of leaving you in another guy’s bed, but you hear the silent agreement between the two. They won’t talk about this outside of here. They won’t let this fuck up a friendship--either the one between them, or the one with Mark. Jaehyun will help you into Jungwoo’s bed tonight, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hope to have you in his on some other night.

And after Jungwoo leaves the bathroom, after you’ve regained some desire to get up off this bathroom floor,  you makeout with Jaehyun in the shower while you both clean up. You sneak out of the bathroom and down the hall to Jungwoo’s room beside your brother’s, and when you climb in between the covers and bury your face in the pillow that smells just like Jungwoo, Jaehyun slides in beside you.

“I really like you,” he tells you. “I know we’ve only known each other for a couple hours now, but I really like you.” 

“I like you a lot too,” you admit. You place a hand lightly on his cheek, drawing Jaehyun into a kiss. 

Jungwoo finds you like that a bit later when he comes to bed; you and Jaehyun asleep in each other’s arms in his bed, and his heart breaks a little knowing that this is something he could have had if he would’ve just fought a little harder a few months ago to make his feelings known to you. He should’ve made a move before tonight, sometime after that night you’d spent with him months ago. But he was scared of what your brother might think.

That’s why he’d come upstairs tonight. He’d seen you walking upstairs, and by the time Jungwoo navigated his way through the crowd and extricated himself from clinging hands trying to drag him in for a drink, he’d followed you upstairs only to find you getting fingered by Jaehyun.

He’s still standing there beside his own bed, looking at you two, when you stir. 

“Jungwoo?” You ask, stretching out a hand to him. “Come to bed.”

The feel of your palm sliding against his, lightly pulling him to join you, that is almost more exhilarating that what happened earlier in the evening. Because you might be cuddling with Jaehyun, but you clearly want him there too, and Jungwoo doesn’t entirely understand what any of this means, but if he can have this moment with you and a million more like it, he doesn’t think he really minds what it means to share you with Jaehyun. 

requests are now closed! Thank you to everyone that sent your requests/prompts in, I really enjoyed writing these drabbles!

[therealvinelle]

Hi, your metas are super interesting, and even if I really enjoy fanon twilight, it's really cool to read opinions based only on canon too!

So my question is about the sexual orientation of the Cullens, do you think they all straight?

For example i saw someone saying that Edward maybe was demisexual and it left me thinking, so i just wanted to know your opinions about it :)

In short, no.

In alphabetical order:

Alice is with a man, but without getting into the mess that is Alice/Jasper here, I don’t think theirs is a particularly physical relationship. I mean, if Alice wanted to get laid, she could just decide to fuck Jasper, enjoy the vision, and bam. Itch scratched. Thanks, Jazz. Alright, I’ll be serious. Alice and Jasper are with each other because the other represents salvation, not so much because of a personal or physical attraction but because of mysticism. So to me that doesn’t really say much about Alice’s preference. All the same I can’t see Alice having a particular preference, she’s too... Alice. Although it is easier to picture her with women. She is also the second half of the Alice/Bella homoerotic extravaganza, which makes heterosexual Alice even more farfetched to me. So, bisexual or lesbian Alice.

Bella shows clear attraction to women as well as men. She’s attracted to Rosalie, Alice, Edward, and Carlisle. I’ll just give you guys quotes: Of the three boys, one was big — muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students. The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction. (Twilight, page 9) This is the Cullens’ introduction. I won’t spend much time on it, just notice the difference between Rosalie and the others. Rosalie is highlighted in a way Alice is not, and Edward is at first glance only the boyish one of the guys. Rosalie was the Cullen whose beauty immediately stood out to Bella. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy. (sic.) Bella has realized by now that Edward’s a grade A hottie, but she’s still torn between him and Rosalie. Bella then gets to know Alice, and they become friends who take showers together(!). Rosalie may be the most attractive Cullen woman, but Alice is the one Bella gets emotionally close to. We get this in New Moon:  UNNATURALLY STILL AND WHITE, WITH LARGE BLACK EYES intent on my face, my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the halt, beautiful beyond imagining.  (...) I locked my arms around her, gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin as possible. It wasn't like anything else—not floral or spice, citrus or musk. No perfume in the world could compare. My memory hadn't done it justice. (New Moon, page 191) Bella never thought she’d never see any of the Cullens again, so for her to be hysterical and ecstatic upon seeing her second favorite is not by itself damning. I’m sure she’d be ecstatic to see Emmett too. It’s that fact that she’d missed Alice’s scent that’s interesting. The scent of her skin was something Bella was aware of before they parted. And while it may be tempting to say “it’s because they’re vampires, Bella’s admiring them like she would a work of art!”, Bella never dwells on Esme, Jasper, or Emmett in this way. Jasper and Emmett especially are not admired beyond the introduction of their characters. We never hear about what any of them smell like, nor does Bella remark upon their beauty after waking up a vampire. Carlisle and Edward, by comparison, are men she keeps noticing. Bella finds Carlisle blindingly beautiful when she first sees him as a vampire, and there’s this from New Moon: Though it erased the sting, it reminded me of the gash, and I watched Carlisle's face carefully to distract me from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed gold in the bright light as he bent over my arm. (New Moon, page 18) There’s thinking someone is pretty, and then there’s gazing lovingly upon their face instead of pain killers. Bella is bisexual.

Carlisle moved in with a very gay man, had a close relationship with him, lived with him for the sake of his company for decades, and only left because of dietary differences. We don’t know for sure whether they actually had an affair or not, but the fact remains that of all the Cullens, Carlisle is the one who is implied to have had a homosexual relationship in canon. He loses his straight card based on that alone. Also gonna link this clip, because I’m Mac listening to Edward talk about how young Carlisle lived with this sexy Mycenaean Greek for a few decades when he was young. Aro is all the santas. Carlisle is bisexual.

Edward... oh boy. His brain is supposedly seventeen, and yet this very interesting thing happens in his relationship with Bella where he never notices her body. Not ever. By body I mean curves. Edward notices Bella’s skin, her frailty, her humanity. He praises her blushes, her doe-like eyes, her warmth, her softness, her swan-like neck, her delicious scent. The feminine aesthetic. He does not once notice her tits. The only tits he is on record noticing belong to Siobhan, and it’s because she has an impossible to ignore rack: She was profoundly female in shape—aggressively, forcefully female. (Midnight Sun, chapter Probability) It’s one thing for him to be old-fashioned and too quintessentially Edward to even think the word “boob”, but in 700+ pages of Midnight Sun there’s just this absence of this seventeen-year-old noticing her curves. More damningly, when seeing Alice’s vision of vampire!Bella, Edward is horrified at the sight of his love cold and hard. He doesn’t describe vampire!Bella by any of the positives, like “flawless”. Edward is attracted to the human, not the woman. What that means for his sexuality... well, I’m going to go ahead and point out that he is very weird about Carlisle, and it’s damning that the personality he projects onto Bella is so similar to Carlisle. I hesitate to apply a label here, but in my own, personal, headcanon we’re veering towards homosexual. Deeeeeeply closeted homosexual.

Emmett is straight. Straightest guy ever to straight.

Esme is pretty clearly taken with Carlisle. Though if she were to feel attracted towards another woman, I imagine she’d have no idea what to make of that, if she even recognized it for what it was. She’s from a very different time and still living in that time, and she continues to be very sheltered. Still, as per my personal headcanon, I see her as straight.

Jasper, who knows. Though if he’s into guys, he has probably gone for it in the past. I suppose I should write a meta on vampires and sexual norms in general, but in short I don’t think they all live monogamously like the Cullens. STDs and pregnancies are unheard of, as is social ostracizing. Vampires are hedonistic, Twilight vampires more so than any other. Which in turn means I don’t think Maria and Jasper were monogamous. A couple, sure, but I don’t think Maria would say “oh noes, I can’t, I’m with Jasper!” if someone she was attracted to made an overture, and same goes for Jasper. So, if Jasper was into guys, then sure. I can see Jasper/Peter happening, or even Charlotte/Jasper/Peter. Jasper is certainly into women, with the possibility of guys as well. And if so, then it’s probably happened.

Rosalie I’m shocked is with a guy in the first place, everything about her screams lesbian. However, she’s clearly into Emmett, so apparently she’s bisexual.

(I’m not including Renesmée in this, since she’s three months old by the time the series conclude.)

This all being said, several of these people are from very different times and wouldn’t have the same concepts of sexuality internalized as we do, so how they’d identify is a very different matter.

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Alex Danvers wasn’t phased by much. Had she expected to get an alien sister? No. But she went along with it (eventually) and was a good sister. Had she expected to get recruited by a government agency? No. But that was fine, and she was good at her job. Had she expected to be gay? Also no. But she accepted it and she was… well she was a disaster on that front, but she was happy.

The one time that she possibly, maybe, perhaps faltered a little, and thought, ‘this cannot possibly be my life now’, however, was during the months after the arrival of one Lena Luthor to National city.

———

“Alex! I broke Lena Luthor’s chair!”

Alex whirled around to see Supergirl anxiously striding towards her through the DEO, whisper-shouting her name. “You did what?”

Kara came to a stop in front of her, nervously wringing her hands. “I broke Lena Luthor’s chair.”

Alex blinked. “How? I thought you and Clark were just interviewing her?”

“We were! I was just standing behind one of the chairs in front of her desk and holding the back of it and then she looked at me and I wasn’t expecting it and a bit of the chair just kind of broke off in my hand. I tried to squish it back into place and tucked the chair under the desk but I think you might be able to tell if you looked too closely.”

Alex sighed. “Okay. Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed.”

Kara deflated with relief and grinned. “Thanks Alex.”

Ten minutes later, Alex phoned the L-corp lobby with an excuse to get Lena down there while J’onn phased through her balcony door and swapped the very obviously hand-shaped-dented chair with a new one that would hopefully go unnoticed. She had naively thought that that would be the end of it.

———

A week and a half later, Alex got a panicked phone call from Kara claiming that she had seen Lena at a restaurant and stayed to have brunch with her but there was now a large chunk of table missing from where they had been sitting, caused by Lena laughing at one of her jokes. Suspicion had begun to creep into the back of Alex’s mind but she was too exasperated to pay it any attention.

Kara said she had managed to cover it up with an empty bread basket and persuade Lena they should go to see the crepe stand that had been at the park recently.

Alex, Winn and James had arrived at the restaurant half an hour later in fake uniforms and a fake van, claiming a table replacement had been ordered by the restaurant management. They quickly set up the new table and took away the cornerless one along with the piece of wood that had Kara’s fingerprints permanently embedded in it.

———

Over the next few months, they replaced glasses, vases, windows, tables, chairs, various cutlery, and an array of annoyingly abstract decorations that had to be specially 3D printed because no replacements existed.

A new section of the DEO budget had to be put aside, labelled ‘Cleanup’, and the superfriends became unofficially known as ‘The Cleanup Squad’ (although Winn only said it out loud once, given Alex’s thinly veiled threat afterwards).

It wasn’t until Alex witnessed one of the events that preceded the need for The Cleanup Squad that her subconscious suspicions hit her like the ton of bricks they would have to fix.

It was a standard game night with a shot too many and a brain cell too few, all of them shouting over a game of two truths one lie, when the delivery guy arrived with their food.

Kara went to get the door while Lena had her go. That was the first mistake.

Kara had been sneaking alien alcohol into her drink for the past hour.

Lena’s third sentence was ‘I’m more often attracted to women than men’.

Kara’s foot went through her floorboards with a crunch and she stumbled into her front door, making the whole wall tremble worryingly. Alex shouted out one of the other sentences as a guess to distract Lena from looking behind her to see what the noise was. That was the next mistake.

Kara took the food from a slightly confused looking delivery guy, thanking him and checking the bags as he walked away, as Lena cheered, wine sloshing around in her glass.

“Alex wins! Women are hot and I like to kiss them.”

The door came off its hinges in Kara’s hand and as she went to correct her mistake she smashed it into the doorframe with enough force to bring down a plane. The door, doorframe and half the wall collapsed to the floor, leaving a shellshocked Kara among the rubble, holding a useless doorknob.

Nia slung her arm across Lena’s shoulders to stop her turning around again and cheered. “Woohoo! That’s great! Hey can you teach me how to win at Monopoly?”

Lena frowned. “But only half of us have had a go at-”

“Yeah! You guys set up Monopoly while I go get snacks with James.” Alex not-so-subtly dragged James up with her, glaring at Winn. “What about you, Winn?”

He jumped up with a nervous laugh. “I need the toilet! Yep!”

They all scurried off to where Kara was just standing and blinking. Alex took the food and doorknob from her hands, putting the food on the counter and the doorknob in a nearby vase while Winn and James started haphazardly piling bricks back up into a wall-ish shape. Nia and Brainy seemed to be going through every single Monopoly card and asking Lena about it in a kind of terrifyingly over enthusiastic pop quiz.

Kara snapped out of her daze and began helping as Alex sent a message to the DEO to get a new door there as quickly as possible. She dragged Kara out into the hall and made her laservision off the entire door and doorframe of her neighbour who was luckily currently on holiday. While Kara did that, she kicked the old bits of door and brick dust under a rug in the hall.

Kara fit the new door into the hole that James and Winn were leaving, blowing her freezebreath over the whole wall to freeze it all in place for the time being.

Before she could go back inside, Alex grabbed Kara by the arm. She raised an eyebrow at Kara’s confused look. “Want to explain what just happened?”

Kara blushed and glanced at (or probably through) the door. “I um… I just got distracted by the food.”

“So it was nothing to do with Lena openly admitting she’s bisexual?”

Kara blanched. “I- wha- pff no.”

Alex rolled her eyes and opened the door to let Kara through before she broke anything else.

They all moved back over to the living room area as casually as possible, Winn setting out the food.

Alex leaned down to speak quietly to Kara before she sat down herself. “You know you can talk to me right?”

Kara nodded shyly and she let it go.

———

The last operation The Cleanup Squad did, it was Nia that called.

Alex sat up in bed, having only just managed to fall asleep, and picked up her phone. “Hello?”

“Alex? Kara’s about to break Lena’s coffee table.”

Alex sighed and waved away Kelly’s questioning look. “Okay. I’ll call J’onn.”

Ten minutes later, Alex was hanging onto J’onn like a backpack as he hovered just under Lena’s balcony with a replacement table.

There was a crash from inside.

“What was that?” Lena’s voice came from somewhere further inside her apartment and J’onn floated up to peer through the windows.

“Nothing! Just… a video on my phone.”

Alex’s phone buzzed with what was presumably the panicked text she just watched Kara send.

Kara went further into the apartment, rambling to Lena about how they should get into their pjs before they watch the next movie.

J’onn alighted on the balcony and they quietly made their way inside. J’onn cleared the broken table into a bag and flew off to dispose of it while Alex set down the new one.

Just as she was putting into place, Lena wandered into the room. Their eyes met briefly before Lena turned towards her kitchen, filled a glass of water, and left again, as though she hadn’t seen anything.

J’onn was back in the next moment and they disappeared back out into the night.

———

Lena opened the door with a smile and stepped aside to let Alex in. “Alex. What can I do for you?” She shut the door and led her over to the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee please.”

Alex sat down at Lena’s kitchen island, thinking about how to phrase what she was going to say while Lena made them both a coffee.

Lena set a mug down in front of her and sat down across the island, waiting patiently for Alex to start talking.

“Do you know?”

Lena smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I know lots of things.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do you know about what we’ve been doing?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Danvers.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know you saw me last night, Luthor. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena smiled and shook her head. “Alex, I have the most high tech security system in the world and an IQ that is most definitely higher than a five year old, and even a five year old would be able to notice you lot trying to rebuild furniture around them. Did you really think I didn’t notice? You replaced a $1000 chair with Ikea furniture.”

Alex went to defend herself but just deflated. “Yeah. Sorry.” She swirled her spoon through the coffee foam. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena shrugged. “She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

Alex watched her for a moment and smiled. Yeah. She was pretty sure she’d be her sister-in-law one day.

———

“Alex?”

She pushed past Kara into her apartment. “I think you should tell Lena.”

Kara blushed and stuttered as she closed the door. “Wha- I- There’s nothing to tell!”

Alex frowned at the odd reaction before she realised what Kara thought she meant and rolled her eyes. “No not that. Well… that too. But that’s not what I meant. I think you should tell her about Supergirl.”

Kara gaped at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. She proved beyond a doubt that she’s trustworthy and I can see how much you two mean to each other.”

Kara bit her lip, looking down and wringing her hands together. “But what if… what if she hates me for it?”

Her eyes were so big and sad and scared when she looked back up that Alex immediately wrapped her in a hug. “That’s not going to happen, okay? And the rest of us are here for you whatever happens. You know that, right?”

Kara nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

———

Kara stood outside Lena’s office, trying to drag her courage back from where it had run to hide, and wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks.

The door opened and Lena hesitantly poked her head out. “You doing okay out here?”

Kara gave a strangled laugh and nodded unconvincingly.

Lena stepped out of her office to join Kara in the corridor. “Okay, well, do you want to tell me why you’ve been standing out here for the past ten minutes?”

She gulped, breathing getting a little faster.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.”

Lena took her hand, stroking her thumb across her knuckles gently. It calmed her down a little and she sighed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down it, hand slipping out of Lena’s.

Lena came and sat on the floor beside her, offering her hand again.

Kara gladly tangled their fingers together, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, my hand’s a little sweaty.”

Lena laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “That’s okay.”

Kara sighed and brought her other hand up to her glasses. “Lena, I-” She closed her eyes and removed her glasses with a shaky hand.

She felt gentle fingers take them from her grasp and opened her eyes to watch Lena carefully fold them up and place them on the floor beside them. She looked at Kara with a soft smile. She reached up and traced the same fingertips across Kara’s cheek, making her eyes flutter closed.

“I know.”

Kara’s eyes snapped open. “You did?”

She nodded.

“Oh. Well now I feel like I’ve made you sit out here on the floor with me for nothing.”

Lena laughed, her eyes and nose crinkling adorably, and Kara couldn’t stop herself from smiling even as her heart beat faster.

“Well since you already knew I was Supergirl, I feel like I should tell you a different secret. Like how I think I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s breath hitched, eyes flitting between Kara’s as they subconsciously leaned slowly closer. “You think?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Lena’s eyes followed. “I know.”

“Good. Because I am definitely in love with you.”

Any other thoughts melted away when their lips met. Kara’s hand automatically slid to Lena’s waist as Lena pressed closer, soft and warm and perfect.

There was a crunch and Kara fell backwards a little, accidentally pulling Lena so she was almost in her lap, as she made a hole in the wall with her back. They broke apart giggling, resting their foreheads together.

“Sorry.”

Lena kissed her again but they were both smiling too much for it to last long. “At least you don’t have to call Alex everytime you break something around me now.”

[mizunetzu]

Heyo!! Can I request a Kuroo x male reader, where yn goes to give him a love letter one day, but he sees him with his new girlfriend??? And he’s like-sad and he tears up the note and he moves on??? But then one day kuroo asks to talk to him, and he confesses to reader, but since reader already moved on he doesn’t accept??? Angsty ending if you will 💔💔💔 thank you, Mr. Mizunetzu !!

Hi paola ily paola hee hee

——————

Kuroo x reader - you did once...

⚠️Warnings - Kuroo gets a gf, angst, not so much of a good ending?

Pronouns- male, he/him

You can find part two here!

——————

“(Y/n), can I talk to you real quick?”

(Y/n) looked up from adjusting his loose kneepad, and wiped a bead of sweat rolling off his face. He turned his head to his teammates still on their diving punishment, and looked back at Kuroo. They just lost to another school again, but he got his punishment done rather early. “Mm? Okay..?”

He rose to his feet, following Kuroo out the gym door. The walk to a secluded place far, far away from the main gym was silent and awkward, not to mention suspicious. If Kuroo wasn’t one of his good friends, he would’ve thought he was about to be kidnapped. Or murdered.

Eventually, they stopped where the fenced pathway met the grass. Kuroo stopped ominously, further proving (Y/n’s) ‘serial killer’ theory. He turned around, facing (Y/n), and leaned on the railing.

(Y/n) stiffly held his hands behind his back. “So...” he rocked on his heels, trying to seem as casual as possible. “...what did you...need...?”

He was met with no response. Kuroo, instead, gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning a pale white. His eyes were downcast and he was sweating like crazy. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

(Y/n) stepped forward and crouched down, so he could see Kuroos face behind the mop that was his hair. He rested his palms on his knees, trying to decide what to say.

“...I...think your hair looks nice...today...”

If it’s one thing he hates, it’s awkward silence. Not to mention the suspense of waiting on someone to say someone possibly life changing. I mean, why else should he drag him out miles away from the gym during training camp?

“Uh-If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss our next match-“

“I need to get something off my chest.”

(Y/n’s) throat closed up. It was simple. The secluded area, Kuroo flushed face, fiddling and chipping the rust off the railing. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He’s been in this situation plenty of times, with girls he can’t even remember the face of. But oh how much he’d love to be in this situation a few months ago.

————

‘Just do it. just do it. God, just do it. Worse comes to worse, he’s straight. It’s not like he’s the type of person to de-friend someone because they like them!’

(Y/n) gripped the white envelope behind his back harshly, crinkling it on the corners. It had a red, heart shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Tetsu’ written in dark pink across the back.

Both Karasuno and Nekoma were bidding their new friends goodbye, all scattered across the parking lot of Karasuno. (Y/n) paced around awkwardly, looking for Kuroo’s familiar mop of black, messy hair. He was nervous, to say the least. Very nervous.

“Ne, Kenma,” (Y/n) placed a sweaty palm on Kenmas handheld game, pushing it down lightly and forcing him to look up.

“Mm.”

“Have...have you seen Tetsurou? I need to give him something.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, and nudged his head to the side. Sure enough, Kuroo was there, off in the distance and talking to someone he couldn’t make out. His back was facing towards them, and his hand was on his hip. (Y/n’s) heart pounded even more.

“Th..an..k...y-you...” (Y/n) gave a lopsided, very stressed out smile, and limped his way over to Kuroo. Kenmas eyes were drawn to the extremely obvious love-letter being wrinkled by (Y/n’s) sweaty hands. He pursed his lips.

He then looked up to the petite girl chatting with Kuroo. It wasn’t visible in (Y/n’s) line of sight, but it was to Kenma. He almost felt kind of bad.

(Y/n) stopped dead behind Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the ground as he ran through his memorized confession for the millionth time that day. He tapped on his shoulder, keeping the letter flush against his back with his other hand.

Kuroo turned around, and that was when his eyes landed on the brown-haired girl wearing an obviously oversized Nekoma jacket. From context of the scene, (Y/n) supposed it was Kuroo’s. He gripped the letter tighter.

The girl walked forward and extended her hand out. Her bubbly aura practically suffocated (Y/n). “Hi! You must be ‘(Y/n)’. Tetsu was just talking about you! You two are like—buddy buddies right?”

‘Tetsu.’ That was (Y/n’s) nickname for him. Only he got to call him ‘Tetsu’...and who gave her the right to call him by his first name?

(Y/n) glanced at Kuroo. Kuroo shoved his hands into his pocket and grinned. It wasn’t his usual shit-eater smirk, rather a genuine, lovesick dopey smile. A smile (Y/n’s) never seen before, not directed at him at least. It was a sight he wanted to burn into his mind, but at the same time, he wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“(Y/n), this is Yumi-chan. She’s our new manager.”

Kuroo stepped behind Yumimite, and draped his arms around her dainty shoulders.

“She’s also my new girlfriend~”

“Oh-hush it, you!” Yumimite turned around and berated Kuroo with small punches, earning a playful chuckled from the Kuroo. (Y/n’s) grip on the wrinkled letter loosened.

“...ahaha! Congrats..! When...when did you two get together?” If (Y/n) was good at anything, he was good at pretending to be interested in something. Maybe he should’ve joined the drama club instead of the volleyball club.

“Mm. We got together just last week. She gave me a love letter.” Kuroo patted the girl on her head, ruffling her neat brown hair and making her blush red. It looked like it felt nice. He wondered how it would feel to have Kuroo’s undivided attention, to be pat on the head like a blushing schoolgirl. To be a small, pretty girl next to Kuroo, to have the ability to call him ‘his’. All his nervousness simmered away, replaced by a strange ache of numb.

“Well, that’s awesome dude! Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to snag a girlfriend before me...” (Y/n) slouched dramatically, quickly hooking the letter in the waistband of his volleyball shorts and tugging his shirt over it. “Especially such a cutie like her! I’m (L/n), by the way...”

Kuroo chuckled, slinging an arm around Yumimite. “Don’t go flirting with my girl now. You have plenty of girls practically throwing their panties at you.”

‘Yeah...but I’m gay, Tetsurou. For you no doubt! I-I love you-!’

(Y/n) almost wanted to yell that out. And he almost did. But he chose instead to keep silent and laugh in response.

(Y/n) bowed slightly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I just wanted to say hi to Tets-uh, Kuroo...”

Kuroo tilted his head at the use of his last name, but brushed it off when Yumi hooked her arm in his. The couple bid their goodbyes, as they turned around and walked off. (Y/n) followed suite, turning around robotically and marching off.

Once he was a good enough distance away, he stopped behind a trash can and fished the letter out from his sweaty back.

He watched as the big pink words ‘To Tetsu’ bled and distort with every falling teardrop rolling down his cheeks. The water expanded and smudged the ink lighter and lighter until the words were practically indecipherable. You couldn’t tell it was a love letter anymore. Especially because (Y/n) ripped and trashed it up til it was a pile of pink and white paper shreds.

He tossed the stray flakes of soggy paper into the trash bin, watching as it fluttered and twirled tauntingly down the trash can. He quietly scrubbed at his red hot face, probably soaking his shirt with his salty tears. He rested his hands on the edges of the bin.

“Okay...” (Y/n) stretched up, spitting onto the concrete. “I...wonder...if my favorite ramen place is open...”

Strangely he didn’t feel devastated, or heartbroken at all. He just felt sort of numb. He didn’t feel the need to blast heartbreak music and cry out on his bed for hours on end. In fact, he was glad. Albeit a bit raw, and maybe a bit tired, but glad.

He got closure for the confusing feelings bubbling down his throat ever since he’d met Kuroo Tetsurou. He got his answer, and even if it wasn’t the preferred one, it was something.

The recovery process was easier than most people would think. It only took a couple long days to get him back to his prime condition. It was a given, since (Y/n) had so much other things to be worrying about. Midterms, volleyball practice, his friends. It’s a given that he would move on the things that was no longer on his priority list.

And Kuroo Tetsurou was no exception.

——

It was kind of pathetic to see such a high strung man like Kuroo so shaky and nervous. Though, he felt the same way three months ago, spending the whole golden week perfecting a letter he never got to read. What a hypocrite he was.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. “So...what did you wanna say?”

“I-just,” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Ah-I...give me a second...”

“Okay, take you time, Kuroo~” he stood back up to his full height, and leaned on the rail across from him. It was obvious they weren’t gonna get anywhere. “So...hows ‘Yumi-chan’ doing?”

“Ah. We broke up. She’s gay. She has a girlfriend now.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Though, good for her for snagging a girlfriend. No offense.” Kuroo mumbled out a ‘none taken.’ (Y/n) continued.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Her breaking up with you?”

“No! Actually, I broke up with her first. And it was...it was kinda mutual.” Kuroo sharply inhaled. “But it does have something to do with what I need to tell you.”

How could he be more obvious. (Y/n) forced a smile. It felt mandatory now. “Really? That’s interesting. Do tell.”

‘Please...Please don’t say it.’

“I broke up with her...because I had these...feelings.”

‘Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to know it.’

“And you know how she’s gay? Well, I think I am too.”

‘No shit Sherlock. I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been fiddling around with your hands like a schoolgirl. Stop it, so we can just be friends like we used to be. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t make me hear it. Please.’

“And...well...”

‘Don’t make me look at your crestfallen face when I say no. It’s too much for even me to handle. I don’t want to see that.’

(Y/n) knitted his eyes shut. A fierce shudder threatened to rattle him and cover Kuroo’s mouth, but he kept still, as difficult as it was. He braced for impact.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

(Y/n) pursed his lips and let his smile finally drop. Kuroo looked up from his trained gaze on the ground, only to be met with (Y/n’s) pitiful expression. (Y/n) never saw his face go from hopeful and love struck to devastated and heartbroken so fast.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. He was going to lay him down gently if it was the last thing he did. “...uh.”

He never said it’d be easy, though.

“If it makes you feel better...I did like you once, Tetsurou.” He only used his full first name during important situations, as he switched to using his last name instead of his first a long time ago. A lump grew in Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo jabbed at his chest exasperatedly. “T-then what’s the problem?! We both-“

“The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.” Kuroo fell silent. He was so prepared to do anything it took to win over (Y/n), but after standing in front of him now, it was clear. Watching as he looked down at him with a pitying expression that made his brain go numb. He would get no where if he tried.

“...a-anymore? You liked me before? When!? Why didn’t I know?!” Kuroo grasped fistfuls of his black hair, a cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He was so animatedly desperate it was kind of sad.

“Not too long ago. Though, you kept me waiting since forever. And I thought I could wait forever.” A sorry chuckle emitted from (Y/n’s) lips. “I watched you go though girlfriend after girlfriend, Tetsurou. You even introduced me to Yumimite when I was going to confess to you. How do you think that felt? Even I got tired of waiting.”

“You...you were...” Kuroo had never felt so helpless. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I would give you the love letter I wrote for you that day, but it’s in a trash can somewhere. Ripped to shreds. And I don’t remember the words I wrote. I’m sorry, Tetsurou.” (Y/n) sighed and patted Kuroo on the head.

“You missed your chance...”

Kuroo’s eyes stung, threatening to unleash hell, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. No matter what. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and stood back up.

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry aswell.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile conotated with pity.

“You did once.”

——————

Go sit there and stare at the wall in silence as you feel bad for Kuroo getting rejected by you. Go on, stare. Maybe then I’ll consider a part 2 (and if people comment or reblog asking for a part 2, hee hee.)

[y0itsbri]

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

--

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

--

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

--

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

[vivid4am]

Life Goes On (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Y/N makes a serious confession

Warnings: Angst, semi-fluff, confession time, mutual pining, drinking, rushed ending

A/N: thank you guys so freaking much for 700 followers! here's my present to you!!

Chapter 5

It had been a few weeks since the diner incident. Bucky assumed that Y/N had forgotten about it, so he decided to too.

It was Y/N’s day off from work, so Bucky was over at her apartment, sitting with her at the dining room table. Y/N had her legs resting on his lap. She took a drink of her beer- it was sort of a ritual for them to drink and listen to music at this point. Bucky noticed that she was rather quiet than usual. “Something on your mind?” Bucky asked, tilting his head to the side.

Y/N took a deep breath and gave him a hesitant nod. “What’s up then?” Y/N took a longer drink of her Stella Artois. She removed her legs from Bucky’s lap before getting up from her seat. She walked to her room, leaving the door open a smidge. Bucky sat patiently and waited for her return. It took about three minutes. Two of them were dedicated to Y/N’s pacing back and forth to her room.

She came back out of her room with a file in her hand. She lingered by her door, wiping sweat from her forehead. She was nervous. Y/n huffed out another breath before walking back to the dining room table.

“I don’t think we’ve been very truthful with each other lately, Buck.” Y/N stated, her eyes pointed towards the floor. Bucky felt his stomach drop.

Shit.

“I know who you are. I’ve known who you were. I just kept it from you because I know you don’t want to bring up your past. I get it. But I thought I should tell you.” She handed him the vanilla filing folder. He opened it, seeing a full report on himself. He raised his eyebrows. It had everything. His birthdate, time in the military, time as the Winter Soldier, even to his therapist.

Bucky looked up at her. “Where’d you find this?” Y/N chewed her lip. “Well, I wrote the report myself. Did some heavy research though. Took me a couple nights. But I just did it to make sure of my observations.”

“Observations?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, chuckling slightly. “Like how you examine every possible exit everytime you enter a room, or when we go out and you stand behind me. Like a protector,” She explained. Y/n shuffled slightly on her feet. “Also, your gloves. No one wears gloves like that. And you’re not a germaphobe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “How do you notice all of this stuff?”

“I notice everything about you. Down to the little freckle on your earlobe.” Y/N said, pointing to his left earlobe. His gloved hand reached up to his earlobe. She was right. Even he didn’t notice. And it was his earlobe.

Bucky smiled. “But it wasn’t the only reason why I looked you up.” Y/N interrupted. His smile disappeared immediately. Y/N sighed, leaning her back on the kitchen table. “I needed to know if you were connected to my uncle.” Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I'm sorry for ever doubting you. He disappeared during the time you were on the run from Hydra with Captain America. So, you can breathe.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think I can.” Y/N crossed her arms, feeling a little vulnerable. “I’m sorry. I feel bad now. I should’ve waited for you to tell me.” She shook her head, voice cracking a little. She started to walk away from him. Bucky’s hands grabbed her waist and pulled her back to him. He spun the girl around.

“I’m not mad.” He said, an earnest look in his eyes. “In fact, I’m impressed. You’re pretty observant.” Bucky gave her a smile. “What gave me away the most?”

Y/N wrung her hands around. “The diner was a big clue. Especially with how worked up you got over the news. I understand though. He was your best friend.” Y/N confessed.

Bucky’s smile disappeared from his face once again. His hands left her hips and Y/N suddenly felt cold. “You probably think I’m a monster,” Bucky mumbled, putting his hands on the table.

“I don’t.” Y/N said firmly. “I don’t at all. I promise you. I did my research, Bucky. You were fucking brainwashed.” Y/N raised her voice slightly. Bucky’s eyes still averted hers. She sandwiched her hands on his face, forcing him to look up at you. “You’re not a monster.” Her tone was sincere. Believable.

“And if you were, I wouldn’t still keep inviting you over for beers and music.” She added, causing Bucky to smirk at her words. “Any other complaints for the head of department?” Y/N asked jokingly. Bucky shook his head, grabbing her hands and removing them from his face.

“Other than the fact that it’s always hot as shit in your apartment.” Bucky sassed. Y/N laughed, clapping her hands in glee. “There’s the Bucky I know and admire!” She suddenly paused. “If it’s that hot, then why don’t you take off your jacket? And gloves?” Y/N’s bottom lip puffed out a bit as she batted her lashes at him.

Bucky hesitated. And if he was being honest, he was terrified of her reaction to his arm. But he knew she already did so much research on him and that they were being honest with each other. He shrugged off his jacket and peeled his gloves off.

At least he didn’t have to worry about wearing them to Y/N’s apartment anymore.

Y/N’s eyes didn’t pop out of her, nor did she gasp at his metallic arm. In fact, she didn’t even look at his arm. Her eyes remained on Bucky’s face. He cleared his throat, snapping her from her small little trance. Y/N shook her head and laughed. “Sorry about that. Just making more observations.”

“Of what?”

“How handsome you are.”

Bucky blushed. To be honest, he has not felt this comfortable with another human being in a long time. It’s always taken him a while to adjust and trust people. But with Y/N it was easy. He hoped to keep her around more, longer even. Maybe even be more than friends.

Again, he hasn’t felt like this in a while. Plus, the dating scene in Brooklyn was tough as shit. He has struggled with online dating apps for months. And his only friend was an old guy who was on his list. He won’t forget about the time that Mr. Nakajima accused him of being gay. Although he was only half right, but, that's a secret Bucky won’t ever tell anyone.

-

| Next Chapter |

Life Goes On Taglist:

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[cooloddball]

Someone submitted something in my inbox and they wanted to remain anonymous. Since this is an extremely long essay, I will put it under the cut. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

xxx submitted: hey, i was the one who ask what do you think of Misha and Jensen's current relationship First off all thank you for your answear it means much to me cause im easy to be convice and this person who keep telling me that they are no longer friends can be so convicing, so I'm actully trying to forget what she said 😅 so I'm just writing a few. she said that since they no longer work together, they will forget about each other, and do their common things like the gay jokes, face touches ect. With other people, and neglect each other, don't talk to each other, and then meet new people who will replace the other. And and she talked about the gish thing, she said she sure they didn't talk since the end of the series, because Jensen didn't know where Misha was and Misha didn't know about the Radio Company vol 2 (but i saw people say that, they were just pretending, because Misha liked something about Radio Company Vol 2, before the gish live, so in theory he already knew then or something like that) and She said Misha wrote a poem about Darius not Jensen and now I will write down what she sent me : I saw a post about Jensen's current activities on social media, and I've come to the conclusion the only person he doesn't interact with is mish. Sadly this makes my break up theory even stronger. I feel like this is a goodbye to one of the biggest parts of my life. They've moved on from "uk what I haven't told you today? That i love u"+ from "miss my only jensen" from "i love u misha i mean it from the bottom of my heart" from "jensen has no flaws" from "misha is the funniest thing ever happened to me" from all that love and affection from everything they developed together and now they're apart leaving their lives like nothing happened and call me a dramatic but they both have the same energy now as someone has after a big break up. and Jensen comments on almost every of his friend’s post except Misha’s"+ Jenmish is genuinely the best thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I owe them literally everything. They're the reason i hold on. Unfortunately on this essay i have to start using past tense verbs for them, and i have to continue on that. I don't know for how long y'all been in spn fandom. But even if u joined one year before the show ended you'd know how close and intimate jensen and misha were. Everything about them was unmatched.+ The chemistry and how they just fit eachother. They had always been all over eachother. Like they were holding on eachother for dear life. They completed eachother and were like world's most powerful thing. They were the definition of soulmatism. No matter where, they ALWAYS kept interacting with eachother. Each possible tweet or insta post. On cons that the other wasn't there, the other one would bring up the othere's name for no absolute reason. +The looks and repeated love confessions. How invested they were both into eachother. The family they had built together cuz we know how close dee and mish are (look all the charity work they've been doing together recently). There are youtube videos to proof everything I've said so far.When i say break up, my real intention is that they've grown apart. Everything started in the the third or forth month of pandemic. Before than jensen used to interact +(comment mostly) on almost all of misha's posts. But after a while everything just stopped. At first personally didn't care that much. Bcuz I believed too much in them that I thought not even the gods above could separate them. I told myself maybe they spend long hours chatting or video calling and that's why online public interactions are gone. But as it passed it almost diminished to zero. Except some likes from jackles and eventual ones from misha there weren't anything else.+ We got absolutely no content and the show went off too. We were helpless and were sticking to everything we had Dee had a big social media shot down, so as jensen. Misha was busy with the election. We got some interviews for it with all of them. But we didn't get much.except remember both of them pulling a bff

move. and texted eachother during an online con where everyone else were dead-serious about politics? That flickered something in me. That showed me that+ they can't ever possibly let eachother go. And the times everyone else were talking and these too would just talk random things together (the one jackels had a white hat on with stacy abraham).And then Misha posted that for jensen's bday We really overlooked it. That shit was too intimate. To close. Fav march baby? U just don't go around and called ur bestie baby and when u mean it deeply. Especially not when ur friend is jensen ackles the "I suffered form internalized homophobia my whole life+ but fuck my wife's an angel and i have an angel bf too and another angel which is his wife but I'd rather die than come out cuz my asshole dad pulled a John winchester on me". It doesn't work like that. But uk how mish is. Carefree and open. I believe they got into a fight bcuz of this. He didn't even like the post. AND that was when the tiny bit of interactions we had was gone too. For a while jensen didn't even liked his posts. After a month it started again.What made me finally believe in that they had grown too+ far: I still remember the night misha posted that he and jensen were going to have a con for gish together. I remember how hard I cried. Lile the whole world was given to me. But deep down in my heart I knew that something would definitely happen. It didn't sit right with me and unfortunately my senses never lie to me. Jensen showed up at the wrong time bcuz of misunderstanding the time zones (this was HILARIOUS). That's not even my point.+ I've seen that interview 3 times so far. It always reminds me of when i saw my ex at a party and we were both so thrilled to see eachother and we still loved the other dearly, but we just couldn't work it out. Jensen and Misha's expressions were EXACTLY the same. The genuine smiles and longs pauses were they just stared at eachother. I'm so happy that it was online cuz if they actually gave that looks to eachother standing right next to the other one I would've collapsed. Misha didn't know that jensen's album+ was out. And he got so embarrassed when he found it out. He didn't know that jensen was on set and hadn't been home for 8weeks. Jensen had no idea where misha was. And this means that they hadn't talked in a long long time.When you're that close with someone for more than a decade, i mean THAT close, even if u're separated from eachother you'd at least check on the once a week, or at least once in two weeks. But it was vividly clear that they hadn't. I hate how this world works. They would always be in my heart.+ I would be thankful from them for everything. It hurts, and it won't stop and im so sure I'd be carrying this pain for a long time. They mean too much to a lot of us. Sometimes I think to myself that god i love them so much. Remember in 2019 when we used to get SO many jenmishdee interactions? That was LIT. It was THEE year for us. I hope they're doing good. I really do. I hope we don't get more proofs and I won't have to update this thread. Cuz my heart won't be taking it very+ well.Something i gotta add U may say that Jensen's busy and that's why he doesn't comment. But he comments on a lot of jared and his new costar's posts. So that's no excuse. So yeah that's it. I don't know what am I supposed to think. english isn't my native language, so sorry for the mistakes

Here is my response:

I don't know who this person who has been talking to is but I have to say they seem to be project their previous relationship experience on cockles.

I believe Jensen and Misha are okay and are together. Social media likes and comments don't mean anything. I mean it's not like Jensen or Misha used to comment on each other's posts before. Jensen didn't even wish Dee Happy Mother's Day this year, does that mean they are not together anymore? Nope. He has other best friends he has known for over 20 years like Jason Manns, Steve Carlson etc that he doesn't wish happy birthday, does that mean they are not friends anymore.

Please let's not put value on social media likes. I don't even follow my own family on sm and I don't always like or comment on my bf's or bff's posts on sm. So it doesn't mean anything.

As for the Gish Panel, I have talked about it before, the time Jensen was slotted to attend the panel, he was meant to answer fan questions. I honestly believe they decided to not do it at that time because they knew the questions would be about Destiel and not their new projects. If you watched that panel, Misha knew that Jensen's album was out as I pointed out. He was just trying to promote the album and soldier boy. He knew Jensen had also buffed out. It was all to promote Jensen. Anything else you hear is trolls and antis just being loud. Also don't forget Jensen called him "babe".

If Jensen and Misha weren't okay, he wouldn't have attended or participated all those panels Misha organized especially for Gish. Danneel also posts a lot about RA and likes Misha's posts. I am 100% Misha visited the Ackles when he went to Colorado last month.

Stop listening to trolls and/or antis or just people who are projecting and look at facts.

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Three

Chapter two // Chapter four

“My head’s gonna explode,” Elide Lochan sighed before she drank two big gulps of water as if she had been thirsty for days. Aelin knew the feeling. She’d been working for two hours now but it felt like ten. The bar was so hot and the music so loud, she couldn’t wait to go home and come back to the silence of her room.

Today was her first day and of course, it was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The uniform, which was basically only a tight white shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, was one of the other reasons Aelin decided she hated this job but only stayed for the money. Aelin had been lucky today if you can call it that, but unfortunately, that luck didn’t extend to Elide.

Some douche-bags slapped her ass when she served him his drink, and of course, all his friends howled with laughter. As if sexual harassment was some kind of joke. The moment Elide mentioned this incident, Aelin had wanted to slam the guy's head on the table but Elide stopped her. The customer was always right and both Aelin and Elide needed this job too much.

They had decided not to tell their co-worker Manon about that, Aelin and Elide had already worked with her before and Aelin knew where Manon was, violence usually followed. It was something Aelin loved about that woman, and she also found it hot as hell. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush on the white-haired woman. But in Aelin’s defense, Elide did have a crush on her too. It was like a general experience.

“Do you think we’ll be fired if we don’t go back?” Aelin put her cold bottle of water against the back of her neck, in an attempt to cool her down.

“Definitely, Rofle is a dick. I mean have you seen this outfit?” The brunette turned on herself and gestured to the more than revealing clothes. Aelin agreed, if her cousin saw her in this outfit he would have a heart attack. She was suddenly glad this bar opened last week, at least Aedion didn’t know this place. Yet.

“Girls,” Nesryn interrupted them. “Break’s over. Go back to work.”

Aelin undid her ponytail, a forbidden hairstyle in this bar apparently, and went back behind the counter. She wore her best fake smile and ignored the lingering looks on her breast or her backside, winked and flirted back when clients thought they had a chance of taking her home with them. Aelin hid her disgust of these men pretty good, she was proud of herself for it.

She would quit if she wasn’t low on money lately. For hell’s sake, Aedion was paying half of her rent. It had been a very long discussion between them, Aelin would rather live on the street than depend on someone. Aelin got convinced when Aedion made it clear if she didn’t accept he would call her parents. So Aelin put her pride aside and accepted, at the only condition Aedion let her pay him back whenever she could. He had argued but accepted. The Ashryver family wasn’t very good at compromise, but at least they tried.

“Aelin, go take the order of table nine,” Manon yelled at her over the background noise. Aelin gave her a thumb up as she kept pouring alcohol in the shaker.

When Aelin was done making this cocktail she wiped her hands and walked toward table nine. She looked down to grab her little booklet and pen she left in one of the pockets of her apron as she said, “Hi, welcome to the sea dragon, what can I-” She stopped as she took in who was sitting in front of her. Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys, Connall Moonbeam, and of fucking course, gods-damned Rowan Whitethorn. She took a deep breath and smiled, but she knew her fake smile wasn’t as convincing as it was minutes before.

She focused on Fenrys and Connall, the only ones she could stand at that table. “What can I get you?”

Fenrys had an amused look on his face, accentuated by his smirk full of wickedness. “So this is your new job?” He asked, and if she didn’t know him the look could be considered genuine.

“You knew it, Fen. I told you hours ago.” Rowan’s head whipped to Fenrys, and Aelin’s face suddenly mirrored Fenrys’s. She didn’t know what the blonde had in mind, but if it annoyed Whitethorn, Aelin was on board. Rowan’s head turned back toward her and he narrowed his eyes. “Got something on my face, Whitethorn?” She couldn’t help it, she had to always argue with him.

“Yeah, all that make-up,” his eyes roamed over her body, it took everything in her not to move under the weight of his gaze. “What’s that outfit anyway?” His disdain was quite obvious.

“My uniform, dumbass.” She tightened her grip around her pen and notebook so much that her knuckles turned white. “Be careful, it almost sounds like you care.” It was one of the most sarcastic things she had ever said in her life, the look in his eyes was enough proof.

“Why would I care about you when you’re dressed like a stripper?” He crossed his arms and Aelin had to force herself not to stare at his muscles and at the tattoo on his arms. He was a handsome bastard and it made him quite hard to hate.

“So, no respect for sex workers, Whitethorn? Why am I not surprised?”

“No, actually I respect them a lot. You’re the only person I don’t respect.” It took everything in her not to punch him in the face right now, but that’s what he was waiting for. It was like he loved to see her lose control.

“I’m going to enjoy spitting in your drink.”

“Do that and I’ll have a nice chat with your boss, good luck to find another job, princess.” He was getting angry, Aelin loved that, it meant she was winning their little game.

“Feel free to do it, it just means you’ll have to share that splendid bathroom with me longer.” She winked at him and wiggled her brows. Rowan clenched his jaw, another sign of his anger.

“Can you two stop for a minute? I’m thirsty.” Lorcan Salvaterre interrupted them and Aelin rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lorcan either, but instead of always arguing as she did with Rowan, they just ignored each other.

“Who are they?” Elide asked as Aelin prepared her roommates’ order. The four of them wanted a beer, classic.

“Two of them are the bane of my existence and the two others annoying but very pretty.”

“I want him in my bed,” Elide said as she bit her lip. Aelin whipped her head toward the guys, trying to know which one she was talking about.

“I have no idea which one you’re already planning to get naked but one of them is gay and the other three aren’t good options.”

“Great, I don’t want good and I don’t want to be good. And It’s the tall one.” Elide winked and left before Aelin could say anything. Of course, Elide would be attracted to Lorcan. Alein went back to their table, accidentally spilling a little bit of Rowan’s beer on him when she accidentally tripped. He swore at her but she decided to ignore it, instead, she pushed him so she could sit next to him to be right in front of Lorcan.

“You,” She pointed at Lorcan, with her smile full of mischief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She shook his head and she heard the twins laugh.

“What’s your type of woman?”

“Everything you aren’t.”

“I’m gonna look past that insult because I am an amazing woman,” she was cut off by Rowan’s snort. “You shut up, you’re thirty and still single.” She looked back at Lorcan but heard Rowan correct her on his age. His highness was still twenty-nine for three months. “What about 5”2, brunette, very very scary. She’s also one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen, but unfortunately, she doesn’t have good taste. I’m not her type but you are.” She winked at him. Rowan muttered something that sounded a lot like “We aren’t teenagers anymore” but she ignored him.

Lorcan furrowed his brow, Aelin could see him hesitate. “Where?”

“Want to see her dance?” Aelin didn’t wait for the answer and walked back to the bar.

-

Rowan was mesmerized.

The moment Aelin Ashryver Galathynius started dancing was the moment he lost his mind.

He hated her for it, hated her for being the first thing anyone looked at when they entered a room. Hated her for being the most attractive woman he had seen in a while.

She had been raised to become this. Well, not to become a barmaid in a piss-poor bar in Doranelle. But to become the type of woman everyone looked at, everyone wanted.

With Evalin Ashryver as her mother, how could Aelin become something else? Her mother was an incredible actress, and one of the most famous ones. She was also known for being cunning, ambitious, and beautiful as a sin.

And with Rhoe Galathynius as her father, Aelin knew how to captivate an audience. Rhoe was a legend of football. Whenever he played, all eyes were on him. He was smart and as cunning as his wife, a perfect match if you listened to the papers. That’s probably why he was a coach now, and that’s also why his team almost always won.

So Aelin was born with amazing genes, a talent to bewitch everyone who looked at her, and a bank account bigger than anyone should have. That’s why he didn’t understand why she would be working here and living with five guys instead of just having a big apartment in the richest part of town. But Aedion had told everyone to never mention her parents, so they all listened. Everyone was careful to do just that, maybe because Lysandra had threatened to cut their favorite body part and to make them eat it if they ever mentioned Rhoe’s or Evalin’s name. All that the day they met her when she was one month away from turning eighteen.

Now this she-devil had him under her spell. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her hips moved perfectly on beat with the music, at the way her hands wandered over her stomach, the side of her breast, and then lifted her hair in the air. Or even at how close she was to her friend, the one who is apparently interested in Lorcan. Both of them were giving a show, and when Rowan finally looked away from the blonde it was to find almost every man with their eyes on her. She knew what she was doing, he knew she did. It made him want to yell at her, even at work she couldn’t help but want attention.

Aelin turned her head, and their eyes met. Rowan sat straighter, swallowing. Her sinful mouth turned into a smirk and she accentuated her hips’ movements, aware of Rowan’s eyes on her. It was also something they did, along with arguing. They caught the other checking the other out, but wouldn’t call them on it. They would never bring it up, it was like a secret between them. He shouldn’t find the idea of sharing something with her so exciting.

She never stopped looking at him as she danced, sometimes she would bit her lip, sometimes her hands would wander on her breasts. He had to stop himself from growling as his cock hardened. Aelin was a sin.

Who did she think she was? He hated her, he made that clear. She hated him, and she had also made that clear. Why did she feel the need to tease him? She was trying to mess with him, and it was working.

The bubble broke when one of Aelin’s coworkers interrupted her, telling her and her friend she was dancing with to go back to work. Rowan couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked back behind the counter. He would have felt bad for it, wasn’t it for the slight sway of her hips and the look she threw at him when she started serving people again.

“I want her.” Lorcan almost grunted, and against his best wishes and even if they weren’t talking about the same girl, Rowan agreed.

-

Aelin wasn’t tired, no, tired wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling. It was almost three in the morning and her shift ended in one hour, thank god she wasn’t supposed to close the bar today.

A customer asked for another sex on the beach, his fourth of the night. Aelin smiled as she prepared it but decided it would be his last of the night. Rofle didn’t want his barmaids to stop clients from drinking because more drinking means more money. But all the money in the world wasn’t worth the customers’ life. She would never forgive herself if someone had a car accident or became an alcoholic because of the drink she served. She gave the drink and took the man’s car keys, saying she would call a cab when he wanted to leave.

Aelin’s phone started ringing and when she saw who was calling her she sighed. If she was tired now it would be worse by the end of the night.

“Hello,” She answered as she got into a cupboard to find some quiet.

“Hi, you’re Aelin Galathynius?” A deep male voice asked. From the tone of his voice, the man must be as exhausted as Aelin was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Aelin already regretted picking up this gods damned phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you but a guy’s at my bar. He’s tall-”

“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. Let me guess, he is drunk and absolutely refuses to call a taxi because taxis are disgusting. He also told you to call me, didn’t he?”

“You got it all right.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Where’s your bar?” She nodded when he told her the address and told him she would be here in half an hour.

Aelin went to Elide, apologized, and asked her to cover the rest of her shift. Elide understood, it wasn’t the first time Aelin had to leave for the same reason. Elide was pissed but not because she had more work, but because she didn’t want Aelin to go.

Aelin took her car and drove, maybe a little slower than she should but it was night. Roads were dangerous, especially on a Saturday night. Aelin parked right in front of the sidewalk. She took her phone and wanted to text Aedion to tell him she would be late but her phone was dead. Amazing.

Aelin walked into the bar and realized she didn’t take time to change clothes, she was still in her uniform. She crossed her arms, trying to cover her chest as best as she could. Even if she had liked to have Rowan Whitethorn watching her tonight, she didn’t want anyone else to look at her this way.

It didn’t take long to see who had called Aelin, she walked toward him, the bartender looked relieved someone would come to pick him up. “I’m gonna take that.” She told him, and he gave her the car keys. Aelin turned her head to grey eyes watching her body, of course, he would notice her lack of clothing. “Let’s get you home,” Aelin said, trying her best not to let her anger out, it’s not going to help tonight.

“Hello, darling,” Arobynn purred.

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @mx—spelled //

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2021! Below you’ll find 23 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

He Carries The Key by @lululawrence

[Niall/Louis, OT5, 8k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Niall was mostly home, ready for a shower and a chat with Louis, when suddenly Niall was flooded with emotions from the pack bond.Shock. Surprise. Confusion.But mostly fear.Something was wrong with Louis.

Plus One by mynameispiaivy / @missrefridgefreetorator

[Louis/Luke Malak, 3k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis is invited to an event and he has to bring a "plus one".

Better Mistakes by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

[Harry/Louis, 117k, Explicit, tumblr post]

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-”

“Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.”

“You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?”

Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?”

“He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.”

Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...

Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 7k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Hello, I’m sorry if this isn’t a post that is allowed on this channel, but I was hoping for the best since it is regarding a photography project I’m working on at the moment. I’m working on a set of sunrise kiss photos and therefore am needing a willing kissing partner. I’d hoped to be able to provide one for myself, but it hasn’t panned out, so here I am! I was hoping to find someone here, since I know most of you (at least peripherally) and can generally vouch for you not being creeps. Plus this way I know you will understand needing to continue to tweak the camera settings and reshoots etc that others might not.

Anyway, I’m looking for someone who identifies as male or male-ish (sorry, ladies) who is between the ages of 18 and 40. I’m a 29 year old male-ish myself, for those who would like to know before replying.

If you’re interested and are free the early morning of August 7th and would like to kiss in the sunrise with me for the sake of some (hopefully) interesting and fun photos, let me know via DM and I’ll give you the location.

OR the one where Louis needs a kissing partner, two show up, and it all might turn out for the best that way.

call my name and save me from the dark by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

“I don’t know if it was a nightmare,” he confesses to the ceiling, the darkness making it easier to speak up even when he still has to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. “It feels more like a memory. But it can’t be.”

Harry shifts, and Louis can feel his chin perched on his chest, doesn’t need to look at him to know that Harry’s studying him. “Why?” He prompts, when Louis doesn’t immediately continue, and Louis swallows, tries to shrug off the apprehension, the fear that Harry will think that he’s gone mad.

“Because I heard them pronounce me dead.”

Feels like home by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis comes home from work with an exciting surprise. Daydreaming and celebrations ensue.

this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface

[Harry/Louis, 4k, Mature, tumblr post]

The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight.

“Your jam?”

When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it.

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

I Know My Arithmedick (2 + 2 = 4sum) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Harry/Louis + Louis/multiple partners, 3k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry wants to watch Louis fuck someone else. Louis loves giving Harry what he wants. It’s simple math, really.

doG…and his friend by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright

[Louis/Harry, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

When Joan has to move out of her small, nice home and in with a random roommate, she obviously brings her dog/boyfriend, Doug, with her.

Doug makes a friend. And maybe more.

I Heard You Talking by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.

Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.

He was stunningly gorgeous.

Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”

God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?

Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.

All That You Need by @haztobegood

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Pre-heat was always one of Harry’s favorite times to spend with Louis. It was a time to rest up and indulge in extra cuddles, like basking in a ray of sunshine before having to dive off the deep end. Louis lavishes him with tender touches and soft kisses. Harry wants to savor this time as long as possible. The unquenchable need will come later, but for now, his desires are simple. He just needed to be closer to his alpha. As close as possible.

sickly sweet fonding by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

A few members of their crew start piling up the dirty dishes and taking them over to the sink. Harry walks around the cameras, and smiles brightly at Louis.

“What do you think, Lou? Do I have it in the bag?”

Louis eyes a bowl of bright pink lumpy batter being cleaned from Harry’s side. “Of course you do.” He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and steers him away, all while ignoring the dramatic gagging Niall is doing. He doesn’t think it’s just the batter making Niall gag.

or the one where Louis fonds over Harry's horrible baking skills

Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”

'Ere comes the milk by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit]

Louis is obsessed with Harry's mommy milkers.

everything comes back to you by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Louis/Harry, 8k, Explicit]

Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?

He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie

[Harry/Louis, 32k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Camp Infinity is the perfect place for a lot of things; hiking, swimming, sports, eating, and falling in love. Harry Styles is a bit too familiar with the last one from his years of being a camper. This year things will be different. He’s 21, a grown man now, and ready to see Camp Infinity from a different point of view; working as a lifeguard. However, his whole summer turns upside down when a familiar British lad makes his return into Harry's life.Or the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

Also known as – The Summer Camp Fic

tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale

[Louis/Harry, 20k, Explicit, tumblr post]

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

Getting a Head for Heights by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13

[Louis/Greg James, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

The problem is, Louis thinks Greg would be quite good to date, so it would really help if everyone would stop reminding him of that fact so he could unthink it. He’d be a gentleman, at least until Louis talked him out of it, and he’s funny and nice and hot and they’re both into music and football and drama. He’s also a freakish giant of a human, and the problem with dating is that sooner or later you have to stand next to each other.

We Go Together (series) by @beelou / cherrylarry

[Louis/Harry, 3k, General, tumblr post]

A grease au

Hot Boy Summer (series) by @louisandtheaquarian / zita17

[Harry/Louis, 35k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Louis is an overworked bartender hoping to save up enough extra tips to buy a new air conditioner before he literally melts during a scorching NYC heat wave. Harry is the new neighbor that wakes him up by moving in his sole day off at 6am. An NYC enemies to neighbors to lovers AU featuring a rickety fire escape, the 2021 Euros, Lirry bickering like a divorced couple, and enough OT5 clichés to rot your teeth. (If Harry's pastries don't get them first.)

across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 8k, General, tumblr post]

The first time they see each other is when they are toddlers, playing out in the yard. Louis remembers sitting on the perfectly trimmed lawn and getting yelled at for picking at the soft blades of grass; she remembers looking over, across the narrow but deep and wild river, and watching another little girl, out in a different garden, picking flowers for her mother.

She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.

bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.

whatever you feel like doing in this moment by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Harry/Louis, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis gets all that he's ever wanted during his favourite game at their group's weekly improv show.

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[missjanjie]

For the prompts, 68 and 70 for wirri pls ❤️

this felt very soulmate au to me~

68. “I like you, like, like you like you.” / 70. "Can I kiss you?"

-

“No one ever said you have to fall in love with your soulmate.”

That was the last thing Kerri had said to Willow before they had parted ways. The words kept ringing in Willow’s ears, haunting her like a ghost. She tried her best not to read into it, to not let it bother her. They had only known each other for a month, give or take. But she couldn’t even appreciate all of the new colors in her world because it always made her think of Kerri.

“So… are you in love with her?” Denali asked, cocking her head to the side as she looked at her roommate with curiosity. “‘Cause, I mean, you wouldn’t care that much if you didn’t, right?”

“I’m not in love with her,” she huffed, then sighed, “but… I dunno, I do feel something for her. Not that it matters, I think she made her feelings pretty clear.”

Her friend frowned and sat down beside her. “Hey, don’t think about it that way. She never said she wasn’t interested in you, maybe she was just keeping her guard up until she figures things out. Didn’t she say she’d never been with a girl before? It’s probably confusing for her.”

Willow shrugged, not arguing her point. “Yeah, though what makes you think she’d want me for her first lesbian experience? You’re lucky your soulmate is a Milf that knows what she’s doing.”

“She’s also my professor, so let’s not act like I have it easy here.”

“Right, but my point remains – I don’t know what to do, or if I should even do anything,” Willow groaned and flopped back on her bed.

Denali gave her arm a squeeze. “You’re not gonna want to hear this, but you might just have to talk to her and see what happens.”

To her chagrin, Willow eventually came to terms with the fact that she was right, that she couldn’t simply avoid Kerri forever (and honestly, she didn’t want to). So, when she ran into her next, she plucked up the courage to ask, “can we talk for a minute?”

Kerri nodded, but arched her brow, “am I in trouble?” she asked as they found a spot under a tree to sit.

“No, no, I really do wanna talk,” she assured, then took a deep breath. “I like you, like, like you like you.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most surprising confession, but she still hadn’t prepared a reaction, so she spoke from the heart. “This is real new to me, Willow. I thought I was a gay boy til I was fifteen and so much has changed. And now you’re here and all of the sudden my world is so beautiful and full of color… I know I have feelings for you, I just don’t know what to do with ‘em.”

“Well…” Willow chewed on her lip, deciding to take one more risk, “can I kiss you?”

Kerri’s expression relaxed into a warm smile. “Yeah,” she said before closing the distance between them and kissing her softly, “you can.”