#he is a sweet idiot with no brain cells and a million heart cells

[elemental-daddy-neos]

Yuma's toxic trait

[libidomechanica]

And Mankinds Eye it is not my paper, show of

A limerick sequence

               I

Last came, twas only sin when love, thus sings a bird on every soul devoid    of grace which Nature, striue    you the World! And Mankind’s Eye it is not my paper, show of.

               II

She comb’d its brightest ground; when you’re slow, his mantle hairy, and there I said,    Look! On the citizens’    applause, of which hath one, and cast it in doves and women whores?

               III

Cries coming from all milk of human soul, the Carian Artemisia strong    emotions fill the    rosebuds steeping! And, which Betty Foy? To find a soul that’s his.

               IV

To malice, and break so great loue which we’ll speak of young heart not alone. With    many a vacant heart    I set thee wi’ as gude a craft rig as made out on the wall.

               V

Hark what she kisses, thief that Orpheus voyce obtain from the barbershop.    Dearest Eye it is, the    bowl, then commend. His arms shall not trout name your cool radiance fell?

               VI

His prisoners, dividing the fold? To manage well descrie, teaching heart, head, and    mutability. And    Johnny? Into a married my bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.

               VII

There is she, where I will not that thou find’st not be so, nor the halloo! Stella,    who made me go to    the New Morning sun. That tracks her night and now doth Geraldine?

               VIII

The golden head has wit in it. I believed in not the castle where I    shall see some richest dye,    flames are blest thee to meet you in your sorrow to Niobe did breede.

               IX

A king sate on that I was: love paternal in his old age in her Cypress    but uncurrents of    clean body. And lay down in widest rivers, cloud of his peer.

               X

‘Are you are, shining in time of night. And we entered our trust and the    shepheardes all: which is    traditionally designated great. God, even silence decay.

               XI

And far, near her cry, “o misery! I lift the wind,—and nothing saw, but    she will say that to her?    Slew both his blinding thee Proof that the Bridegroom of Dominion.

               XII

An imagination is a love- sick eye, that never crowed for a single    gentle streaming eyes    endure not satisfied with his Feet. Are good fortune of shame?

               XIII

To which we in the edge of that lie open a persons say the white balloon?    Think you, if Laura    had been and still an unwean’d lamb, the wrong! How she utter’d be.

               XIV

The touch, the stroke—If Johnny’s wit and thy brow, to smoothed a petticoat; pity    he lovely in crowds    before you may witness of her. Angel of flight to my cell.

               XV

Them placed me to mee: no, no, no, go not think for a minute. One little    breeze that come, thou art a    queen, fair friendly face. And all the hall, or frost, nor dare complain.

               XVI

With his sharpen’d from the river or a war? Like the hills of Ettrick’s vale,    is sinking to the Heaven    only knows not, grow in only frightened field, where my God.

               XVII

And fly with love, like curious odor, that thou wert wont to fear to thee,    and speak out in the blast    was over, this woman send away! Happens, this love so well.

               XVIII

Which treats of war the fourteen I married men; for the sky, or who dare touch’d    the boundless welcomnesse.    Nations something, and the rank mist they were one walked through the sea!

               XIX

Which are one of all the westland winter, when the brain to me belonging    it home. Since the things as    cold earth-wandered if her mother doth roam the clime shed its fruit.

               XX

Can young heart from sacred through the palace to stay. All are not fear; above    the sensuous organic    Harps diversion, perhaps million fighters forth sweet, and clear.

               XXI

Thou lik’st so well hast thou to malice, and the mild white neck to venture such    expenses, dreading the    flower. Or if Delusion came down, down! Than stockit mailens.

               XXII

Where Cupid, and she, like the churchmen starts; no jealousy a human heart.    But that all-white Ohio    town your passion ought, to make church and. At fifteen I stopped.

               XXIII

The day; come away, away, until I get a man. For often she is    mild and gleam, where dewdrops    pearl the whole flood that complain of her hand, the vena cava.

               XXIV

While to touch of her idiot boy. The Princess. Oh! Or brought: for of thy    worth the other chamber    door; and did but To make the floor, and heard of Martha!

               XXV

Ah, woe is me! Moth for their names, pulling tales to a short tunes? I hae as    gude a craft rig as made    thy brow, and tak the cool and dust, like one long as it’s most trying!

               XXVI

At the laurel, issued gorged with little avails then my harp can tell?    Foolish am I to    the gracious God! Intersection to join the custom of old?

               XXVII

And if you are as good! And he is busied. But not learned women: but    the class, What faculties,    when the bark of my sore distresse, who made me sick, am I.

               XXVIII

As if in Susan’s side, far and forever and over his Supremacy.    To the rock, than that    peep and restless love, to the courtesy, this dreams have a tear.

               XXIX

Than alive less bigger than the striped white girls longer think no more than my    knees. The upper air, feel    some of the second and soon I shall read a book together.

               XXX

How she uttered words Salámán’s face a furnace sealed: drink deep, dear cockade,    ye’re no unwrought; no    courtier could I have years half so fair! Half-listening chambermaid.

               XXXI

A sunbeam found the parching me out. The creature to bind my knee. The dark    lintels, their style I’ll sighing    cry, a ruin, underpropp’d, and wishing mathematics.

               XXXII

No more, for tongues can in good compare? But to show, the service dwell, whence haue    had found’st a louely grace    she the last gasp of love pitiful grew better ha’f o’t.

               XXXIII

His question, he, made increment of a wall, a hedge, between eternity.    Play but at push-pin    half the declivity, seeing his traveller: for ever.

               XXXIV

Why is thy grove, each simplest Lute, placed me under female hands over to    otherwise. It is the    space between ye; yet ne’er let me, true in love as I am?

               XXXV

But most, and a sun, and all his best. The Field of Sir Leoline? With earth has    Nero, more than dust! In    all than not revere: imagine you may not I that his peer.

               XXXVI

The main, and tell it all to yourselves for two. Love as braw and birth new joy    was sprinkled on your eyes    and his Palate blew; he said—Oh Darling our discoursing size.

               XXXVII

—The wean wants a cod: i’ll profess no second spring; begin, and    ends of free the world goes    by, still such an one. What new to speak too much mescal. The world.

               XXXVIII

I met her; point out with two tame fools may delight, sank down with a wand’ring    kiss the vale of thought I    went to search for our moist and pine! And there that perilous flood.

               XXXIX

Know not,’ quoth the Diamond of urine. Grip, angle and spite and spite and spiral-    talk. As those floweth    Helicon the orange, the modest, took advantage of shame?

               XL

The nights to see such valid reason? Some to mee: no, no, no, my Deare, let    bee. From whose Palace The    Soul of each, and o’er his minions and built a house in mourning.

               XLI

And tell each obscene and see this to the very top, and on the poison    through the errant fog, the    bay? What Love exclaim: Forbear, nor use a faithful friendly face.

               XLII

Those nonsense things, in fact I care not else, we promist weale; breakfast. Fair    maiden in health, in heauenly    haueour, her princes’ favourite of time must not for freedom.

               XLIII

Can move; she live and me. Of olive green isle in the balmy air, and damns    me for thine own soft beams,    injoying of the swore they burr, as loud as any other grace.

               XLIV

The devil is down with awe I praise— for some kindness. The violets lingering    in the place, forcing with    heart, my lassie o’ my head; the pond to shake, as all my care?

               XLV

And daffadillies fill and make a ball above them happy Betty Foy!    Though he fleecy cloud is    grown old, the glad sound of fiddling, compare? Mark where art thou dasht?

               XLVI

But it in the apple trees never bear unless the Levant; except their    starting-post. When I am    sad and loose a flying in the shearers’ feast You have snake!

               XLVII

So little step beyond measure, at least, she were!—Had not say: for what complain.    When with these obtain    from eight o’clock till full fifty yards from you I try to kneel.

               XLVIII

But branches current of those dalyings, without loneliness. Concord better    loosely—like an Alpine    torrent’s force, and proceeds, and ev’ry side shall match to that now.

               XLIX

Love loves, we seek no midnight holes. With his pony now doth the spray. About    in the new fire; full of    bright soul would tell each other while thy brow, so soft and brought forth.

               L

As do bewray a wanton winds, amidst the sound as twilight’s blue candles    out Phoebus daunce euen? Than    the edge of that dwell for ever at his sharpe arrowes tries?

               LI

We danced, to which your sorrow on the bard, So let us melt, and saved me    not the meane at once more    loue lo Stella loue. So leaving brow, to sweeten my poore name.

               LII

Blue forget to sing, from a gutted mine, and swirled justly souls confine? Ah    woe is me! Believe there    was not so vigorously I cared for fair. Her sights controls.

               LIII

Once, quickly she had address’d his question, he, made in the drugstore, sipping    starres the ground. Room were    terms for perfection’s endowment, though the vast heaven grac’t, ah!

               LIV

Are pacing on the violets’ eyes, was table, table-cloth and other found    and suddenly ashamed    of beauty on the decks of Rockport. Among the cool and green.

               LV

Last he rose and flow’rs, and silver. I’d not let my tall pine shall who in    the brave poor soul, the court’    said Cyril. It seemed singing them cough on the toy sloops go by.

               LVI

Thus did they hold a treasure, let not you pinch a flowers Sappha went, and    the o’erlabour’d steer; whate’er    thy bones was shaped like a hard although I fly and violet?

               LVII

The Crown both Was and I the depths of both, or where she cry? And sin, I know    of, that hobbles up the    bed, and breath of wild and grass, does to my subject, and come back.

               LVIII

On mountain-head, some say, if to love’s rites are very air seem’d a curious    mazes spreads aloft    by thy louer? The happy still true love’s great oath I swear, were they?

               LIX

Can abide to see? As its calm, her senses roll themselves, was her wreathe our    two loves her mind the evening    smiles to leave to set it well, helpe me to thee, fa la la.

               LX

What faculties, when with fingers directed? With it, and Heaven a blessing    a little muddy    pond of water, among men, light alone till my dying day.

               LXI

He and glowed and skilful pilot, thou art! It was no place of feeling; but    O with musicke, sweet, wee    dochter, that never can invade with his lyre, and if you can.

               LXII

Like clouds lightnings of the glad sound of a little-footed China, touched the    lonely wild: but woman,    off! Wilt thou hast desert, I am murdering gypsey-folk.

               LXIII

And stars he takes this kingdom of the two that all to the ground. Brought a slighted,    and never men were    not you do the beach, but a mouse, dumbe Sleepe holdeth all the dark.

               LXIV

An’ tease my pains so fashion all be before, all bow along with rayne? No    voice of Sir Leoline? Seeing    his trim hath put a spirit hovering on untamed wing!

               LXV

Light fading rose she drops headlong frozen clips, he stroke. For joy illum’d my    guilty men; but, alas,    is meat, dancing like an infants at a stand and, on fall night.

               LXVI

The lap of Proserpine. When Juliana comes, adoring moon, yet linger    in the tuck-in of    a hill of moss, and yet reserve them who drew Achitophel’!

               LXVII

Her riches,—and show to smile that’s one which I know solitaire? That drifted    up into her who first    word to feel you among her this rhyme is penned, who though the screeched!

               LXVIII

Live: tell her once large bounty fed; robert Burns: fie on silly bogles, wealth    of globed peonies;    or if thy mind, care less: some to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee.

               LXIX

And, you soarer, you flapper, you floated in this cordial wine! For her, and    water yet religion    meets all motion and Roses! This—dost thou since purple, pulsing.

               LXX

Yet hangs his pace is slack; now, the man; tattooed or woaded, winter breeze would    lend stutter forget to    weep the dye of her. You gone, and low, whom, SPIRIT fair, and shame!

               LXXI

And much better done, too, bleeding horse? You thumbed, the goblins’ hall, and perfidious    bark, built in this, and    a helpe for nought. Sic a wife was dour and dim; but Christabel?

               LXXII

When my heart can move; twere my God. Or Wordsworth sometimes wakes,—to shore to-day,    he’ll let me sleep, seeing    eye; but love thee hence. Are seacolor. The page, enwrapped from.

               LXXIII

And ne’er a ane to peer her. Robert Burns: fie on silly coward many    dreadful to sever, in    nameless till we in the day; for in pensive mood, they stretched plight.

               LXXIV

No more from right they hate flattery! Of appear morning sing. But half so    faire my race. She a weeping    at the bed she hearts does Betty well could not do you know.

               LXXV

But when the down war! Up shoes, you covered in sleeping fire you must love in    love, abiding love near-    on ten years, he never know if e’er you appear morning skies?

               LXXVI

Still picturing tones, yet your name was starr’d with gems; her very joy. To frost    to fly from all those boughs,    cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo then, in any room containing you.

               LXXVII

What if all below, a heart it was wonderful replied Melissa; no—    I would surely spread our    blanket. Convention must be worn at heart to be overcast!

               LXXVIII

You left me, sweet babes? Triumphant, unaware, and said in council, two better    place, and on the green,    she forthwith led fair Geraldine, I must charge, alive with you.

               LXXIX

To gie ane fash. Plums suck a week, and averaged each; and she winter gave guesses,    and list to thy grove    of this a woman and, you soarer, you floated in consent.

               LXXX

Could, and moon, with the like, t is no lack of wolves! The gloam with wrong wayes; those    vermillions, this to tell    in what high priest, and ask’d the window light blue eye, the presence.

               LXXXI

Every word but moss and pitie to my neighbouring thing! To gild refined, that    eternal smile: perfect,    not to be wroth with reefs which makes many more, speaks nor stirs; ah!

               LXXXII

What kind of the Blest. And nothing left to eat, but Thanks, ’ she said, what ails poor    child pushed her pure heard what    the lowest. Until some minx tripped up-stairs, she accords me too.

               LXXXIII

Thorn you see, we live in a rowe? And if they burr, burr, burr, burr—now Johnny    soon with ambitious blacke,    both into their sake and for the Ten originally and dark?

               LXXXIV

From you love then she is full, and I, shall neigh—no dull and dumb with grains gaily    through half the claws of    a pirate. In nation, become a tree, and also be true!

               LXXXV

About the feather for it anew revive; inspired lady—the gems    entangled every land?    My life by Archdeacon Coxe. She took the down, in bush and me.

               LXXXVI

Save that keep no chip of it for ever find this Cot, and twenty lives. But    when the Baron’s heart, through    the zodiacs filled with love I prize not, madam: by your pockets?

               LXXXVII

She smiles as sweets you so apply, place of fools or heroes if silence in.    Who lay down in her breasts    of Fame, stella behold thy sister Psyche, ’ said Christabel!

               LXXXVIII

I recognize. I wonder in the moss is spotte, which do breathe still with their    vain endeavour: frail man,    when he rends upon a Harp of strawberries, that clad her cry.

               LXXXIX

Completely puzzled are their name. In Italy he’d ape the third rail that    what wildered you! Younger    and more of men, how you ask me to say, how saw you now?

               XC

But all around it. For who dare touch my skill reply! This sorrow pine, to    tend the whirlwind’s on the    leaves turn to life Thou might sit beside the self-approving what?

               XCI

Of solemn troops, and free—sir Leoline will know. I know of, that so well sayd,    still to the Head of my    this paper perfit white, sleep of wonder’d wishes for the page.

               XCII

And loud, and jealousy, that sadness our loves, and she was no lack of such    welcomnesse. Is this poor    thorn she sings in like these, and in starlight wood, see ye warp not.

               XCIII

What kind of children will stars he takes the grey church, and well for Elisa,    decked at home! And she came    to a weak Woman; nor Liberal, who can rule and duty clash!

               XCIV

If more where Jove bestowing! We’re told things are, which make me any man: and,    last not exceeding waves    do rise or fall asleepe, me thing a pittance; these sneers again.

               XCV

Settle yet the door. Gold, the present weather woman slept with all those red    cheeks, her body calls you    a dunce, and retained, even to gain, and hold up little maid!

               XCVI

Those scarlet cloak, I will part us! Beyond a six canto into thy    grace can you were tinged it    is then prefer, stay Must we but with silence all outwent.

               XCVII

Myrtle, meet emblems mix with what shoulder, the owlets throat; abase those self-    loves of summer-time, o’er-    spreads her wreaths at a stand in a rapture it. With hurried hands.

               XCVIII

To woman, nature, art, bold fiction, see, of grass and thee, and lie fallow    in the pony’s side, far    and with much contempt the vales and his heir. So that bosom dies.

               XCIX

Ah, braid no more wretched growe: yet to thy grace can young year. And yet, because    it is, that clad her cruelly!    Fair is blonde&when she warbles, bossed wight: the flower and aye?

               C

These were green darkness buds, blossom. Though we play but at push-pin half the church    on the stroke—If Johnny’s    but an expansion, like morning Post its arms to make the things?

               CI

Poor Susan Gale. Dares straight and marble, plate and Milton’s Eve were not there are    the bone of young year forgot    to see, like a boy I sought to show with silence decay.

[fvrxdrm]

.•*Friends to Lovers on Holidays with Leon Kennedy*•.

Happy Single Asses’ Day!!!

Pairing: Modern!Leon x F!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW

*****

“Cheers to us single fuckers!”

The clinking of wine glasses subtly intertwined with the voices of the actors in a horribly-done “horror” movie that was running on the television as you and Leon briefly joined them together before letting the tang of sweet, bitter, and sour wine hit your tongues. And when they did, you moaned in satisfaction.

“Not bad.”

“It better not be. This shit costed, like, $100.”

Leon grabbed the wine bottle in front of him and went on to refilling yours and his glasses respectively.

“My wallet’s fucking crying,” he continued.

“Hey, don’t bullshit me now. Jack Daniel’s costs $50.00 and I don’t hear you complaining. And from what I remember you buy five of ‘em,” you retorted back hitherto taking a small sip of your drink.

“For your information I only buy one bottle now. Had the president not let us quit going on missions your statement would’ve been correct.”

It was true. Ever since the New York incident, bioterrorism had gone down and those rare times where an occurrence would go down somewhere in a small region on earth the BSAA would be sent, sometimes even bringing one of the newer DSO agents to help them with the cases. And so, with the conclusion that the count was dying at a leisure pace, the government decided there was no need for their veteran agents to be sent on missions unless they were lethal and needed someone who was as exceedingly experienced as you on the field and sanctioned both you and Leon to only do office work until further notice.

“I mean, yeah, true… Pass me the bowl?” With eyes still glued to the T.V., Leon reached out to grab ahold of the large bowl of popcorn and blindly looked for your hand until he finally felt the bottom of the bowl touch a surface, letting it go once he felt the weight shift lighter.

  “This is bullshit. Who the fuck just crawls on the ground after tripping while the killer is literally right behind them? Like, fucking 5 inches away from them! I would’ve stood up and ran.”

The movie had been going for about half an hour now and Leon couldn’t be more amused at how you reacted at every scene where the characters’ brains seemingly flew out of their heads. He wasn’t paying attention to the film. He’d watch this way, way, way, way back anyway and he knew how stupid it was so he just entertained himself by listening to your rants and laughing (also getting smacked every now and then).

“Oh my god! Why the fuck does she keep screaming?”

“You know what, I wouldn’t care if he gets killed.”

“Of course, the phone just had to be dead.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck are you making out while a psycho is literally out there to sheesh kebab you?”

“Oh my god, I just lost my brain cells.” And so on and so forth…

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Leon muttered with a smirk, popping a chip in his mouth as he turned his gaze towards the movie.

“Well, I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought it was one of those movies that are so bad they’re good,” you defended as you swigged the rest of the wine that filled a portion of your glass. Your friend just snickered in response, stretching his arms and legs and smiled in fulfilment once he heard the crack of aging bones and staring narrow-eyed at the credit screen in front of him.

Words became trapped inside your heads. You didn’t know what to do from here. The only thing you planned was watching a movie for Valentine’s day – or Single Asses’ day as you call it – and fight shy of anything revolving around romance whether it be some sort of song or movie or something.

You both had been unlucky when it came to romance and intimacy. The closest you had to love were some one-night stands with random strangers and even that was far away from said emotion. Your jobs were complicated and when you both had started in the agency years after the Raccoon City incident, it already began taking a toll on your heads and continued to up until the incident in New York. And so, relationships were the last thing you worried about. Though, that didn’t mean your hearts wouldn’t race every once and a while. Truth be told you caught feelings halfway through your career, both of you. You sometimes entertained the idea of you and your best friend being together while he had conflict between you and Ada. Both of you were people he couldn’t let go of but he felt like one was superior to the other and his brain scrambled around for a bit until the day he almost lost you. It was the day disease almost took over the world: Tall Oaks and China. That was the day he realized just how much you meant to him.

“So, um… I should go now. I’ll see you around.” Leon stood up from the couch and was about to head out your apartment door until he felt something warm enclose around his wrist. He turned around to find your pretty face looking sheepish and pleading – pink creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears.

“I-it’s already late and I… I don’t think you’re in the right condition to drive. You can stay here if you want.” The blush on your face darkened even more and your eyes suddenly found interest on your tiled floor, your grip around Leon loosening. Seeing as how abashed you looked right now, he playfully simpered and decided hey, I teasing is fun!😀

“You don’t think I can drive myself home while drunk? Haven’t you seen me in action back in New York?” He spoke.

All enervation and intoxication suddenly voided out of your body; eyes bulging out of their sockets as his statement caught you unwary for a second. Incoherent words stumbled out of your mouth and none were piecing together to form an acceptable response.

“I’m just playing. I get your intentions. You seriously need to chill the fuck out,” Leon finally said after a few enough rambles were pitched into the room ceaselessly.

Your shoulders sagged and the tension that rapidly built up in you were unfettered in a matter of seconds. “Jesus,” you murmured. “You know how I get when I’m drunk.” Leon continued in his bursts of loud laughter and it only made you sink into your seat even more.

“I’m sorry… You’re just so freaking cute!”

Whoops… Didn’t mean for that to come out…

Leon’s fit of hysterics died down in a trice, feeling like a twelve-year-old whose embarrassment was so immense after getting rejected and being made fun of in front of the whole school that he’d rather melt in a puddle where he can be forgotten.

“I-I’m sorry. That just…flew out of nowhere. I- “

“It’s fine. At least I’m not the only tomato here, right? And um… Thanks… For the compliment,” you said, face burning another 100°C.

“Well, uh,” Leon scratched the nape of his neck and shoved his free hand in his pockets where each of his fingers twiddled with one another, “wanna chat?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be bed anytime soon, unless you’re really tired.”

“No, I’d love for you to accompany me tonight,” he replied.

“Okay, come back here you himbo.” You patted the empty space on the couch Leon previously sat on and smiled at him once he made himself comfortable with his feet resting on your coffee table and hands finding contentment in providing itself as a pillow for his head. “So, how’s life?”

  “Okay, okay…fine I’ll…haha…do it.”

A few minutes had passed, talking being the only thing you’d done up until Leon tackled and attacked you with tickles on your sides.

“You, Leon Scott Kennedy,” a giggle fell past your lips, “are…”

“Are?”

“…a fucking…idiot!” Leon fell in a daze at your words and while he was at it you took advantage of his vulnerability and shoved him down to the floor with you collapsing on top of him. Only when he felt the softness of your carpet and the hardness of your floor did he bring himself out of his stupor.

“You sneaky little shit-“ He was about to place both of his hands on your waist and flip you two over when his wrists were suddenly grabbed and pinned above his head not even a second after he blinked.

“Uh uh, not so fast. You really think you could get away with this, don’t you?” A smug grin pulled the corners of your lips. Leon sighed.

“Fine, you win.”

Silence had taken over the room once more, the muffled chirping of crickets outside the closed windows the only sound filling in the missing gaps. Though the light that gave life to your apartment was dim, the distance between your faces was enough for Leon to take in every detail that defined the complexion of your face: from the lines that explicated the years and hardship you had been through, to the little dimples beside your lips that he was sure was as deep as the Pacific Ocean. From the constellation of cute freckles that flecked your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, to the pink hue that gave light to them. You were beautiful and there was no doubt it was one of the many things he admired about you. And there was also no doubt that he wasn’t afraid to voice it out while he laid flushed beneath you.

“You’re cute. You know that, right?”

“Mhm, I’m gonna be hot when I’m sixty.” You giggled at your own joke but when you saw just how awestricken your friend was by you, your smile immediately dropped and you were left flustered on top of him in diffidence and nervousness. And because of your oblivion, your hold on his wrists slackened and he took no time flipping the two of you over and switching up the roles.

“I knew you would fall for that, princess,” Leon remarked and before you could even let out a single letter, he already had his lips smashed onto yours.

A soft gasp fell from your lips but it didn’t take long for you to succumb to the feeling of his supple and slightly chapped lips.

In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment, and in that moment, you were in your pure and vulnerable selves.

It was slow and subtle at first, lips delicately lingering against each other for a moment of lip-lock until a relentless appetency set fire in your bodies. It became sloppy and messy and the abiding flavor that ghosted on your tongues left you wanting more and more of what you could give.

Hands set sail on plump skin and it wasn’t long until pieces of clothing slowly began replacing the space on your carpet where you once laid, Leon having carried you to sit you down on your couch.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want,” Leon whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, the ghost of his breath sending a delicious chill down your spine.

“I want to… Please?” And that did it for him.

He let out low growl from the depths of his throat before battering your neck with tickling kisses and bites were marks were left as graves created by the inner animal that was housed inside of his body. The brush of his skin against yours arised the short hairs that adorned your own and it didn’t help that the evening cold would tease past you in a speed that sent you shivering to your toes.

“Leon, please.”

“Please what, babe?” Leon kissed along your thighs while he looked at you through the shortness of his lashes.

“I need you, please.”

“In a minute, babe. I fucking need to taste you,” he mumbled, voice raspy with lust and desire.

You anticipated with what was bound to happen next with closed eyes and lip restrained in between teeth. However, no matter how much you prepared yourself for the feeling of his tongue touching your folds, your back still arched at the feeling and a soft moan sounded from an open mouth, hands finding home on Leon’s disheveled hair.

“Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. Moan for me, moan my name.” That you did. You let a string of curses unknowingly escape your lips along with his name slipping in between them as he lapped your sex with a type of hunger even he couldn’t describe for the life of him. He simply couldn’t get enough of your taste; getting you off once, twice, thrice, until you couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him by his hair before having a sample taste of your own through his lips. And while he was busy savoring your mouth once more, you pushed him on the floor again and straddled his hips impatiently where you felt the twitch of his cock touch your pussy.

“Please, Leon. I want you. I want you so bad. I wanna feel your cock inside me, now.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart. It’s all yours.”

Permission granted.

Your hand grasped the base of his cock and stroked it a few times before lining the tip up to your entrance, pushing it down once you were sure enough that his dick would just slide in you, and you both moaned at the stretch and the tightness that surrounded him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight,” Leon grunted.

You let yourself give in to his astonishing size before you slowly began bouncing up and down his length, your eyelids falling close to the feeling of his dick hitting just the right spots with neither of you trying. You moved in sync together, his hips propelling into yours and gradually speeding up as indulgence replaced the throbbing of your walls at their painful expansion.

“Fuck, Leon, shit.”

This was good, painfully good, but somehow it still wasn’t enough for Leon so he decided to take control again and turned you to your back where he can finally satisfy both you and him much to your contentment. He pounded into you with so much force and the tips of his fingers dug into your skin that you were sure you were going to be sore the next day at work and bruises were going to be a part of your attire for a while. Oh, well, I’m just going to call in sick tomorrow.

“You’re taking my co – ngh – ck so good, baby girl. So – ngh – good.”

Mewls left your mouth at the sound of his broken words and a familiar tight warmth filled your stomach, your moans getting louder and louder each time Leon gave a powerful blow.

“Leon, please, please, please, I’m so close – shit!”

“I know, baby, I know. Just hold on a little longer for me.”

After a few more thrusts, they became sloppy, you noticed, and all pent-up emotion boiled over into one strong orgasm that has you writhing and shaking in relief.

  “Well, fuck. That was good,” you spoke in between heavy breathing, the blanket you took from inside your couch now covering your glistening wet bodies.

“Best sex I’ve ever had if I’m being honestly,” Leon added, chuckling despite struggling to get some air himself.

“Yeah. But seriously though,” you steadied your head in your hand and began tracing random doodles on the exposed skin of his chest as you spoke, “Is this going to be a one-time thing or…”

“Well, to be honest, I wanna go further from just being a one-night stand. You know, a real relationship and all that. But if you want it to be a one-time thing, I’ll respect that.” You could tell Leon was disheartened at the thought of him being a one-night stand only but your intention was just the same as his and now, you were sure about your decision.

“I wanna go further than this, too. I love you so fucking much.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” Leon placed a chaste kiss on your lips before he pulled you on top of him and lulled you both into a deep slumber.

*****

Lmao this was longer than intended XD.

[jaeminscoffee]

Cordolium

Cordolium- Heartfelt sorrow, heartache (n.)

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff for starters, angst for main course.

Word count- 1.78k

Warnings- Y/n’s led on by Jeno. Or she just misinterpreted his actions, also horribly written ✌

Summary- Who’d known one picture was all it would take to break your heart.

Having gotten into your dream university called for leaving your comfort house and moving into a completely foreign environment, where everyone would be strangers unlike your town where everyone knew each other. 

You were already cranky about the fact that you had to shift, added to that came the news that you’d have a roommate since the last room available was allotted to the student who enrolled in just minutes before you. 

It was a bittersweet feeling. Bitter because you have to live with a total stranger having to share common spaces, personality could be who knows how. Sweet because you’d have a familiar face to look around in the University for. 

“Y/n did you see my blue hoodie?” your roommate screamed from his room, to you who was seated on the couch by the living room. “Hmm?” you hum back, knowing full well the hoodie he’s implying to is the one you’d adorned right now. 

“Come on doll, is there any hoodie of mine that you haven’t worn yet?”

Jeno is the perfect roommate. You’d been shocked the first day you punched in the password to your apartment, opening the door only to be greeted with a guy who had nothing but a towel around his torso. Half shocked at the fact that your roommate for the rest of your semester would be a guy. Half shocked that an extremely good looking guy was your roommate. 

Jeno made the unknown neighborhood seem as though you’d been there all your life. He shooed away all your homesickness, never giving you time to even miss your street by bringing up new things to keep the pair of you occupied. 

“Uh? The one that you bought yesterday? I haven’t worn that yet.” you flash him a smile as Jeno passed you a look of boredom. “It was a rhetorical question, Y/n” he shook his head, making his way towards you with nothing but his sweats on. 

Not the first time you’ve seen him half naked, you’d seen him like that almost every other day, Jeno had clearly grown ridiculously close to you. But the sight of his toned abs and chiseled chest never fails to fluster you. “look at the picture you have of me half naked, you’re basically burning holes into my abs, babe” he retorted after plopping down on the seat beside yours and you immediately shift position to lay down on the couch with your head on his lap. 

“Bold of you to assume i still have that image, Jen” you say, handing him the remote to select what you two would be watching that evening as you tug on his free hand, bringing it up to your hair and placing it there, shaking your head slightly as a signal for him to run his fingers through your hair. 

This is how it’d been since you two grew close. You had a very, very touchy friendship. You had no objections to that, absolutely loving the cuddles and names he’d given you.

All fears of being alone had gone with the wind after the news of you being THE Lee Jeno’s roommate spread throughout the campus. The undivided attention you’d receive didn’t faze you though, knowing full well it was all just a way to somehow get Jeno to pay attention to them. 

That didn’t matter though since you’d found a perfect friend circle for yourself. That friend circle being Jeno’s friend circle. They were all extremely bubbly and accepting of your joining in the group. One particularly was extremely close to you. Jaemin. Having shared the same energy level and brain cells, you got close to each other really quick. 

Jeno chuckles at your antics before complying to your silent request, “Whatever. Though, I’d actually say nothing if you do end up being the first one to wear my new hoodie” you look up at him, confused. “you look cute in my clothes” he sends a wink in your way, leaning down to press a small peck on your forehead before diverting his attention to the shows he constantly switched back and forth to. 

“Oh? Then maybe i should change into that right now-” you attempt to get up fast to hide your blushing self, only to be pulled back with a strong grip on the material of your (his) hoodie which resulted in you falling right back onto Jeno’s lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t” he gave you a playful warning look, breaking out into a smile seeing you huff out giggles. 

“But you just said you don’t mind!” you try standing up again, “doesn’t matter” he pulls you back with more force, now locking you in a tight embrace as your head gets flushed into the nape of his neck, arms holding his bare shoulder for support.

Married couple. A title your friends had given you due to the pair of yours dynamic. It’s kind of like an inside joke at this point. Each time they’d point out you having something more than a platonic friendship, Jeno would always be the first one to dismiss it, clearing all misunderstandings whereas you’d make little to no effort to do so. Your love for the lad basically oozed out of you. 

It’s a little hard to not have feelings for a guy with the personality of an angel, behavior intact and looks as a plus one. You are sure he had at least a little something for you seeing his actions, lingering kisses, touches. You are so sure he’s got at least something for you.

Pressing one last kiss to the side of your head, he moves you gently off of him and onto the fluffy couch as you stare at him in confusion, clearly not liking the warmth being taken away from you. “what happened?” you ask him, about to pull him back down, “I promised a friend I’d go over, we’ll cuddle once i return home, is that alright with you doll?” he inquires, leaning down to smoothen down the hair that was sticking out here and there from his previous actions. 

“Why wouldn’t i be alright with that? As long as you give me all the cuddles we’re missing out on right now” you feign anger to which he gave you his signature eye smile. “Of course.” With that he left the room, probably to change into something else. 

You really wanted to spill out your feelings for the lad to him, you weren’t scared of being rejected. Jaemin, Jeno’s known better half, had assured you multiple times of how you’d definitely be the only one to catch Jeno’s attention. 

What you were really scared of was if you’d lose what you had right now. Feelings are stuff that comes and goes in a rapid and you can lose everything you have if your feelings for the other deteriorates somehow. But your friendship was way more important to you than your feelings and you wouldn’t, in a million years, want to lose what you’ve established with Jeno. 

You spend the rest of your evening watching shows, painting your nails, and even reminding yourself to make one of Jeno’s favourite dishes for dinner once he gets home, mentally thanking Jaemin for reminding you to not forget that little confession plan you had plotted. 

You’d make it subtle that you’re in love with your roommate through your actions rather than words, though, he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t already noticed at least a bit of affection for him through your clinginess. 

You make your way to your room after turning the flame down to low upon hearing your phone ring. You wipe your hands on your hoodie before pressing the red button and picking it up, Jaemin’s contact taking up its place on your screen.

“Jaem?” you inquire stupidly as though his caller ID didn’t make it obvious enough that it was, in fact your best friend calling you.

“I would have barged into your house if you’d taken any longer to pick up the call but congratulations for finally gathering some balls to do it Y/n!!” Jaemin screams into the speaker, obvious that he’s excited. “Congrats?” you ask back.

“Yes! Finally! You guys look so cute in that image, I almost threw it at Haechan!” he replied with the same energy. Confusion clouds your mind as you try making sense of his words. 

“Picture? Congratulations? Jaem, what are you talking about?" 

"You know! The picture he just posted of the two of you being all lovey-dovey! I never took Jeno to be a romanticist! Like, the caption??-” you immediately open your laptop to log into your social to see what imagine Jaemin was talking about, “I have a slight doubt that you’re the one who posted it from his-” finally in on instagram, you scroll down to see any new posts of your roommate,

“-phone, but like. I’m so glad that you asked him out, knowing Jeno, he’d never do it unless you double dog dare him-” running impatient hearing Jaemin ramble on about the said image, you finally search up Jeno’s name, feeling your stomach churn with an unknown feeling. 

“Also, did you dye your hair? You look really cute in that image though it isn’t all that clear! I told you from day one you’re a match made in heaven-”

You click on the recent post, the image of Jeno, leaning in, pressing a kiss on the lip of a girl unknown to you fills up your screen, ‘my one and only for eternity’ as the caption. “How was the kiss?-” you pause for a second, refreshing the page to see if it’s really an image of Jeno, kissing a girl, “Jaem.." 

"I mean, if you’re gonna act all shy with me now then don’t tell me, but tell me how did you confess to him?” you can physically feel your heart drop down to your stomach

“Jaemin..” “you finally get to call him your boyfriend, Y/n! No space between the two words! I can’t believe he decided to make your relationship public the day of confession! But seriously-”

“Jaemin listen-" 

"I’m still not over the caption, where did the confession take place?? You should’ve called me man! I would’ve recorded it-”

“Jaemin!” you finally scream, losing it at all the words coming out of his mouth, feeling enraged at yourself for ever thinking you stood a chance. Hearing the line go silent, you feel something wet travel down your cheeks the more you stare at your crush kissing a girl that’s not you. You choke out a silent sob. How are you supposed to face him after today, knowing everything you felt for him was unrequited?

“That girl in the image is not me.”

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x09)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 09: I’m Allergic to Bad Memories

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: *shrugs*

Word Count: I am sick. But I am out of stuff to keep my loud mind busy. So here we are. Be grateful to the Gods of k-dramas

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The chirps of concern were a train of ramblings coming in between the nudges little orange furry paws were giving you; smushing your lips, your cheeks, booping your nose. The only time they stopped was when that echo that resulted in your unconsciousness announced a little plan. “How about I be of some help, little one?” Lulu stood up on his hind legs while he and his camera saw a pair of pale hands stroke your head ever so gently, whispering something foreign under a sweet breath. The next second, you stirred, perking up the little furball- who smushed your face and head with an endless amount of rubs with his own. You groaned before a yelp found its way out of your throat as you felt the bump at the back of your head thump with piercing pain. “Ow! Ow ow ow ow.” “Ah,” the soothing voice called out from outside the frame, “you hit your head pretty hard, dear.” The realisation of the stranger came a little late- maybe because of the concussion, maybe because of the angelic voice that seemed to make you feel at ease- and once it did, your eyes widened while your legs moved your body away from… “God?” you gasped in question while Lulu’s camera looked at the aged women smiling down at you with a glow unlike any. “More or less, yes,” the glowing woman in a gold dress chuckled before bringing her hand forward. “Come, let me help you, dear.” You tried catching your breath there. “Wh...who…” The smile on that bewitchingly calm face brought this uncalled ease inside your chest. “I’m Frigga.”

. A shrivelled high-pitched scream eroded the den as Javier stood frozen at the expressions similar to that of a spooked out little child on the face of the head of the universe’s deadliest mafia. “No, please do not hurt my face!! That is my one good asset!!! You always hit me where it hurts the most!!!” Taneleer cried. The camera focused from the ball of luxurious fur whispering on the floor to Loki- who stood there with his arms across his chest. “I didn’t even hit you yet. Quit being such a pain in the a-” “Ssso what! You were thinking of hitting me,” Taneleer huffed while he looked up at Loki, “I could see it in those snake eyes of yours. Like you will bite my-my h-head off!” Loki sighed and rolled his eyes.

Loki: *bags under his eyes* I am…*blinks tiredly* surrounded...by the most idiotic scum of this universe *camera pans across his shoulder to show Taneleer calling his henchman* “As long as they are here, make sure that little Terran is safe. Otherwise, I will cut off your limbs and feed it to the street rodents,” he hisses.

“I cannot believe you just thought of hurting me for that Terran,” Taneleer tsked and jumped in annoyance, “she is getting between our friendship.” “You were never my friend,” Loki delivered the blow with a straight face while the boss felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “And to think I made little marble figures of us both hanging out in Knowhere,” he whispered with the hurt reflecting in his voice. “Who is she to you anyway?” He pouted. “Who is this creature to have you travelling by her side as if you are...she is...you both...what is she to you?!!” “Just get me my fucking grace,” Loki raised his voice while rolling his eyes, “or I swear to all the power in this universe I will personally make you suffer for frying my brain cells with your utter nonsense. What are you trying to do? Buy time till your rotten brain can figure out how to make up an excuse for your incompetence?” Taneleer’s slouching and sad figure straightened up and raised a finger. “More like, trying to buy time before I really tell you who I sold your grace to.” . “Frigga?” The camera took in the glowing pale face smiling in your direction as it nodded in your direction. Your face, on the other hand, was a mess of confusion, surprise and the worst possible daze just sitting on top of your forehead. “Like...Loki’s mom Frigga?” A sparkle went off in Frigga’s eyes as the already glowing face seemed to shine four times brighter. Her eyes widened and her smile seemingly found a reason to grow wider. That was till some uncertain thought crossed her forehead and her smile twitched and transformed into an unsettling concern. “This is…” Frigga trailed off. “Weird?” you tried helping her. “It’s usually Thor that people know me through.” “Huh...makes sense.” “How...do you know Loki?” “Oh, I’m his friend. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” “Ah,” Frigga nodded and mirrored your smile before confusion punched that softness away. “I’m sorry, you are what?!” The Lounge Scott sat on the sofa reading the latest copy of One Piece while the big screen opposite him showed Loki threatening Tivan by his collar. The screen did not seem to take his attention but the figure looking in front of it, going to and fro more times than Scott could count. Actually, Scott stopped counting after six about an hour ago. "Instead of working your legs, it would be better to work that mouth for your friend, don't you think?" Natasha called out from behind the counter, sipping on her kale smoothie. The words stopped Steve short, his whole face a mixture of blushing horror. "W-what." "That's not what she means, you thirsty grandpa!" Scott called his thoughts out without raising his eyes from the latest in Wano arc, "go talk to him." Steve blinked and regained a part of his lost senses, slowly moving towards the dorms. "And kiss him senseless while you're at it," Scott added, stopping the captain midway to give him an irritated glare- one that Natasha was loving.

Natasha: *smirks* I have to say it feels good to have someone else make thirst jokes on Steve too *Camera pans out to show Scott smiling for the lens* Scott: It's me *points to self* she means me. Natasha: I guess there are more coming? Scott: *gushing* you have no idea

The Den “So, if I were to summarise what you just told me, midgardians have no quarrels with Loki, Thanos has been defeated and my son is living with the Avengers now.” Lulu’s camera caught seriousness in Frigga’s brows while you nodded. “And I’m his friend,” you added with a smile before looking at Lulu’s camera.

You: I stressed that for reasons *shrugs nonchalantly*

“Right,” Frigga acknowledged. “So, how is my son? Is he here? My essence is only supposed to be released in his presence or someone he…” Frigga paused and looked back at you, this time with the keen observation that seemed to make you a little uncomfortable. “He is somewhere in the back with the anime-hair guy. They are trying to find a way to get him out of these cuffs my dad made so he couldn’t use magic. Long story. But we got teleported into some galaxy far away and now we are here to help Loki get his powers back so we can go home.” You thought best to blabber than stand there in awkward silence while Loki’s mother was giving you a deep mental once over. “And by we I mean me, Lulu and Javi. We are all friends. Lulu is the little baby we adopted on the way,” you cooed and smiled at the little pile of soft fur purring on receiving scritches from your under his not-so-visible jaw. You looked back up to watch Frigga’s fingers rest on her lips to mask some sort of emotion you were too late to read.

Frigga: This cute little midgardian keeps calling herself Loki’s friend *tilts head* and then tells me they adopted an old beastling’s offspring as their child. *contemplates* So...do marriages not happen on earth lately? Or is this something my son came up with? *raises her brows* no matter the story, *waves her hand* I am not letting him lose this precious one.

“Let’s go meet Loki,” you jumped in controlled excitement taking the first step to lead the way before freezing right there. “Wait,” you interrupted your own buzz with a grim expression, “how do I know you are one of the good ones?” “I beg your pardon, little one?” You sighed, feeling a little heaviness settle in your chest. “How do I know you are not going to hurt him?”

You: Yup *purses lips* reasons *stretches the corners of her mouth in regret*

“Did you just ask me if I was dangerous for my own son?” You could already feel the mother hen judgment even when you didn’t stare into her eyes. “I know,” you sighed, “it’s the space. My nerves are overworked and the only thing I can think of is Loki.” “...” “-’s well being.” Clearing your throat, you nodded at your own words, stealing a glimpse at the camera. “That usually does not happen. I can assure you that.” The surprise at your sheer audacity melted within ten seconds to give place to something soft and glowing; along with something else. You did not expect Frigga to bring forward her hand and cup your cheek with her palm to gaze into your soul while you stood there with disbelief dripping from your skin. “Your hand is so warm,” you commented after flinching a little at her touch, waiting for her to say something. But Frigga took her time, her thumb stroking your cheek while you witnessed the corner of her eyes glistening. “By the Norns, you have been one gentle soul through such wild storms haven’t you, dear,” she whispered, forcing you to grow more confused for a second, “why would someone hurt such a precious soul.” Lulu’s camera moved with Lulu’s body suddenly on alert. He could feel the change in the atmosphere right when the camera caught your crinkled brows release themselves to some invisible realisations that were either too quick- or too heavy- to bring tears to your eyes. All that your face carried was bearings of something that stopped time for you while your tears ran as much as they could; and with them ran your breaths getting shallow by the second till Frigga engulfed you in her warm embrace, her hands soothing your back. “Forgive me, my child,” she whispered, never leaving your cold figure, “forgive me for bringing it all back.” Lulu’s whines and unknown movements from the corridor made Frigga bring herself to face a dazed you. “You are one brave human, my dearest. Trust in yourself. And you are not alone. Take good care of my son till I can see him one last time.” With those words hanging somewhere in the midst of your ears and your brain, she left with a peck on your forehead, dissolving into the same light she was radiating all along.

The Dorms and Their Outer Surroundings The camera zoomed in to focus away from the leaves and into the french window of Bucky’s room where he and Steve sat in their respective love seats five feet apart, trying their best to keep their composure while trying to come up with words. Steve cleared his throat. Bucky moved the bottle of water on the coffee table towards him. “So…” Steve’s throat barely made any noise the first time while Bucky’s red face tried to hide under the shadow of his long unruly hair, “I heard that...ahem...that you…” “I’m gay!” The confession came like a shot of rifle mid-air, taking both Bucky and Steve by surprise. “And that’s o-okay,” Steve stressed, sitting up straight, “it’s okay to love anyone you want.” “So-” Bucky’s fingers wrung each other under the internal pressure to get the words out- “is it...is it okay to love you?” Unknown to them, another camera standing outside in the lawn witnessed an excited Scott perched upon the top of the tree with the headphones on to hear every word they said. And just as the confession came, the poor man caught hold of his chest, muttered, “my heart,” and fell from the branch while his red-headed accomplice waited for more. “Is it okay to love you now?” Steve was on pause, his attention solely taken by Bucky’s words and eyes. “Bucky,” was he was able to get out before standing up, forcing Bucky to mirror him. “I know this may seem out of the blue, Stevie, but I have always...always only had eyes for you. And I know times were different back then, but now I finally have the guts to tell you how I feel and I would completely understand if you don’t-” The words were stopped short right on the lips when Steve took Bucky by the collar and kissed him. “FINALLY!” a victorious cry came from the Black Widow right beside the camera, making the poor thing wobble and fall down lens first onto the ground.

The Weird Den Javier’s camera already caught the shimmer of an orb disappearing from right in front of you as he entered the room but his company was too late to notice any of that golden light that had just illuminated the room. The moment Loki entered the room the camera recorded his senses going off. His eyes ran over every corner of the room, over Lulu rubbing himself on your legs while trying to draw your attention, and then back to your figure standing in the middle with your back to him. “Y/N?” he called out, taking one cautious step at a time. You flinched. That stopped him right in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” Lulu’s camera caught your hands wiping away the tears before turning to face him. That effort was not of much use as both Loki and Taneleer could make out some real tears had been shed. “Nothing. Did you find something for your cuffs?” your nasal voice did not help your case either. Taneleer raised his hands a little as he stepped close to you, bringing forward a dense black fabric. You took without much thought and blew your nose into it, making the boss gag behind you. Loki clearly wanted to ask you about the reason behind those tears but those lines of latent rage in between your brows made him go the other way. “We will have to travel a little further for that, I’m afraid.” You sniffed, finally feeling the air in your nostrils. “Cool. Let’s go,” you muttered nonchalantly and walked out.  Taneleer’s eyes widened and he aggressively gestured his guards to follow you.  Loki’s brows raised themselves in question. “What just happened?” . “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Javier’s camera caught the grit of your teeth as you sat down in the transportation vehicle that looked like an exoskeleton of a schoolkids’ van. “I said I’m fine,” you pressed with zero emotions in your eyes. “Then why are you crying,” Loki pressed back while casually leaning on the doorframe and watching you with his intense gaze. You scoffed. “Because I’m allergic to you,” you spewed into the air and shifted to face away from him. Taking full offence of that statement, Loki opened his mouth to say something before shutting it back. Tight. “You know I’m still single right?” Tivan whispered from behind the God with a smirk. The latter did not pay much attention to his words. “I’ve taken some of your inventory. Don’t bother getting it back in one piece.” Loki was about to step into the van when Taneleer decided to open his mouth. “She knows you are here.” Loki paused, his hand resting on the frame and his biceps feeling a tug under his dark shirt. “She knows you are out of hiding, Loki. She will come for you. I know you already know that. And she will come for anything-” his gaze shifted from Loki’s beautiful back to yours- “-that stands between her and you.” No words came from the other side except for the tap of a finger on the frame before Loki got inside the van and came to sit next to you. Tivan’s guards were already putting the vehicle in full throttle to fly towards your ship while Loki waited for you to say something. But you were stubborn in your own way, not letting out a peep but turning to watch where exactly Loki is sitting. “Lulu,” he stressed with a note of caution when he did not let Javier secure him in his seat, leading to the fur-boy slump in his seat and sulk till Javier presented him with candy. At the same time, you scooched closer to Loki- still not facing him- and let your fingers feel his overcoat in them. Your eyes still carried the remnants of the tears along with a hidden hurt that you did not want to show anyone. But the high definition cameras everywhere were quick to catch it all; even the slight break of your heartstrings when you felt the fabric of comfort in your fingers move away. It also captured the shock that followed when you felt his arm come and rest behind your neck to prevent the discomfort of the metal rails on the back of your head on this bumpy ride, giving you full access to take the support of his shoulder and arms in that moment. You didn’t even realise when the waterworks came again. “What,” Loki looked at you expressionless, “I’m just resting my arm.” You blinked and took in the snot rising up in your nose. “I’m still allergic to you,” you muttered while resting your head on his shoulder. A smile born for two seconds was seen by no one except the camera.

[aylinaliens]

May I perhaps ask if you could write something about RamKing‘s first kiss?

thank you so much for sending in this prompt, it gave me an excuse to continue my soft!ramking agenda. i just really love these characters and had a lot of fun writing this. you can also read it on ao3

summary:  He knew that he should reassure Ram, tell him that he deserved the whole entire world, but that’s unfortunately not what he did. “I think I’m in love with the sound of your voice.” King whispered. “Is that weird.” Ram didn’t reply—at least not verbally. He just leaned forward and pressed his lips to King’s forehead. King liked to think that was Ram talk for yes it is, but am I too. Or it was Ram talk for you are the weirdest person I have ever met, here’s a pity kiss. He hoped it was the first one.

just kiss me slow, your heart is all i own (ram/king)

This was definitely not how King envisioned his first kiss with Ram. He was fully planning on taking his sweet time leaning in while maintaining eye contact. Maybe he would hold Ram by his face and place the softest kiss on his lips. Either way he wanted it to be slow and deliberate so that if Ram changed his mind he had enough time to pull back. But rather than doing that he ended up shoving Ram against his door as he fisted both hands in his hair. He practically yanked the poor boy flush against his body and…

...ended up roughly slamming his forehead against Ram's in his haste to kiss him. It was mortifying on so many levels and through a haze of pain he could hear Ram laughing. He was laughing. Any other time it would be like music to King's ears but now it was only a painful reminder of how idiotic he was. How the hell did he manage to miss his lips? Sure, he was incredibly drunk so his spatial awareness was a bit off but that was no excuse for whatever that was. 

This was the opposite of sweet and gentle; it was needy and messy. But it was all Ram's fault. He was the one who dragged him from that bar and let his feelings slip out. Rather than typing them out on his phone he spoke them: I like you. Those three words now had King dragging Ram by his wrist back to his apartment. To talk. He swore it was to talk and King finally, thankfully, admitted his feelings too. Just as Ram was about to open the door and leave (because both were too drunk and needed time to process everything) King's phone buzzed in his pocket.

Cool Boy:

You can kiss me goodnight

Cool Boy:

If you want

God, King really did. So he shoved Ram against the door more rougher than he originally intended. He was simply too intoxicated on both alcohol and happiness that he ended up misjudging the distance.

Groaning in pain and embarrassment, King let his head fall on his boyfriend's shoulder (he couldn't believe he was allowed to call him that) and wished he could disappear. "You can break up with me if you want." His voice was muffled by the fabric of Ram’s shirt. Perhaps Ram should considering he couldn't even kiss him properly. Out of all his friends he was known as the smooth one yet he managed to royally fuck up their first kiss. Damn alcohol. Damn the fact that Ram was slowly turning him to a bigger dork than he already was. 

King wasn't expecting a reply so when Ram spoke he was genuinely surprised. "I don't want to." It was enough to make King lift his head but once he did he felt bad. There was a faint red mark on King's forehead from where they connected and unconsciously he brought his hand up to touch it. Ram winced at first before leaning into the touch, back to his usual silent self. It was who King fell for right? The silent boy with those sad expressive eyes. The boy who was just as weird as King was. Cool Boy. His Cool Boy. Yeah, the alcohol was definitely making him a tad bit over emotional right now. 

He buried his face into Ram’s shoulder again, letting his hand drop back to his side. Stupid. He was stupid. He didn’t deserve someone like Ram. Someone who would still look at you like you hung the goddamn moon after they head-butted you. Apparently his inhibitions were a lot looser than he thought because he ended up saying all that out loud, complete with a hiccup at the end.

Warm hands were suddenly on either side of King’s face, slowly guiding him away from his hiding place. Once they were eye level King tried to look away but Ram was not having it. His hold was firm enough that King had no choice but to look at Ram. He knew that Ram would let him go at the first sign of discomfort—but he wasn’t. No, he was just embarrassed and nervous. Also feeling just a tad bit pathetic. He thought he would love being able to stare into Ram’s eyes like this but it was intimidating. So damn intimidating. His gaze was a mixture of many things—fondness, amusement, heat, sadness, and even shyness. King should look away (King never wanted to look away). Ram’s fingers began to softly stroke King’s cheekbones, lips turned up in the smallest of smiles. “You’re not stupid.” He whispered. “I don’t think I deserve you.” 

He knew that he should reassure Ram, tell him that he deserved the whole entire world, but that’s unfortunately not what he did. “I think I’m in love with the sound of your voice.” King whispered. “Is that weird.” Ram didn’t reply—at least not verbally. He just leaned forward and pressed his lips to King’s forehead. King liked to think that was Ram talk for yes it is, but am I too. Or it was Ram talk for you are the weirdest person I have ever met, here’s a pity kiss. He hoped it was the first one.

Ram leaned back, still gently caressing King’s face again. He did this for what seemed like hours (when in reality it was only a minute) before opening his mouth to speak. “Redo?” It took King a good long moment to process those words. Oh. He was both flabbergasted over the fact that Ram spoke and the fact that he could be so bold. In reply King just rapidly shook his head, causing Ram to lose his hold on King’s face. As much as King wanted to be the one to initiate their first kiss he decided against it. Who knows what else he’ll end up messing up. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Ram frowning. He waited. Waited some more. Fidgeting nervously. Puckered up his lips as a way to say c’mon cool boy, right here. After nearly two minutes of doing this, King was about to open his eyes but froze when he felt pressure on his face. Not on his lip but the tip of his nose. His eyes fluttered open to see Ram only centimeters away. This was not what he had in mind when Ram said a redo but...he wasn’t complaining. He felt his heart swell with what could only be described as adoration, feeling a pit in the bottom of his stomach. How could that—not even a proper kiss—leave King feeling as if he was on top of the world? Part of King knew that if he wasn’t this intoxicated he wouldn’t be this mushy, nor would he be this desperate. Actually, he probably would considering the depth of his feelings. The alcohol just brought those feelings to the forefront of his mind rather than attempting to keep them at bay.

“W-what was that for?” Ram didn’t reply (he wasn’t surprised) and instead reached down between them to gently pick up one of King’s wrist. He rubbed his thumb on the underside of, deep in thought. Before King could question what was happening Ram tightened his hold and began to drag him. Toward his bedroom. Confusion and panic shot through him. “Wait,” King yelped, “Cool Boy what are you doing?” 

Just as they were about to reach his bedroom door Ram stopped in his tracks and turned around to give King an incredulous look. “Bed.” As if that answered the question rather than create twenty more. How the hell was King supposed to get a moment of sleep with Ram here? 

                                                        +

King did end up sleeping that night. Not even ten minutes after Ram dragged him to his bed, turning down the bed sheets. All King could do was stare like an idiot as he watched Ram pull the curtains tight, mind running a million miles a minute. After he was satisfied with the state of King’s bedroom he once again took hold of his wrist and dragged him toward the dresser that was at the far corner of the room. He might still be shell shocked from the fact that his boyfriend was in his room and going to sleep in the same bed as him but he had enough brain cells to understand what Ram wanted when he pointed. Clothes. He hastily grabbed two sets of pajamas for them hoping that they would fit Ram.

King was going to be a good person and let Ram change first (actually he was going to go around his room and clean up the various piles of clothes he had strewn on his floor) but turns out Ram was incredibly stubborn. Rather than tugging his wrist, Ram gently took hold of one of King’s hands and pulled him toward the bathroom. This was definitely a new feeling—one that he could get used to. Ram’s hands were rough but his hold was gentle. Too gentle King thought to himself. He gave it a squeeze hoping that it conveyed what he was too scared to say out loud. Thank you. I like you.

After they were both changed King settled into his bed. He tried to scoot over a far as he possibly could so that Ram would have enough room. Except after Ram turned off the lights he did not lay down in the bed. No, instead he made himself comfortable in the chair that was adjacent to the bed. He couldn’t help but send the other boy a quizzical look but all he got in reply was a look that seemed to say I’m not changing my mind. As bad as he felt for making him sleep on that tiny chair he knew that Ram was probably doing this for his own sake rather than for King’s. The last thing he ever wanted was to make Ram uncomfortable so after handing him a spare blanket King laid back on his pillows. He was asleep in less than a minute. 

                                                             +

King was expecting the morning after to be laden with awkward silence—but surprisingly it wasn’t. Ram was still silent but King made sure to make up for it. After eating breakfast King shyly began to pull Ram around to show him his different plants. At first he felt bad, assuming that he was boring the other boy to death, but he quickly got over that fear once he received a series of texts.

Cool Boy:

You can keep on talking.

Cool Boy:

I’m listening.

Cool Boy:

I want to hear about this. 

That was all the encouragement King needed before launching into a discussion over how important humidity was to successfully keep alive a Calathea Lancifolia or the correct type of soil you should buy to grow a Peperomia Ferreyrae. He could have gone on for hours if it wasn’t for Ram sending him an apologetic look before nodding toward the door. King couldn’t find it in himself to be upset and sent the younger boy a smile. “It’s okay. Thanks for last night. I’ll see you later.” Ram nodded once more before slipping on his shoes and gathering up his things. Ram sent one last glance at King before letting himself out, leaving King alone.

After he was one hundred percent sure Ram was gone he let out a groan before dragging a hand through his hair, grimacing in disgust at how sticky it felt. He was just about to walk to his bathroom for a much needed shower when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He paused in the hallway and slipped it out, mouth going impossibly dry as he read the message not one but three times. Was it possible that he still had some alcohol left in his system? There had to be right? The message Ram just sent him sounded too good to be true.

Cool Boy:

Can I kiss you? 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there in shock but he quickly began to move with a purpose when he heard a soft tap on his door. He yanked it open with more force than he needed to find Ram standing in the doorway, beet red. His eyes were wide and King could faintly make out the fact that his hands were trembling. “Yes.” That was all that King could whisper. It came out breathless but he didn’t care—screw his self preservation he needed to show Ram just how much this had an effect on him too. 

Ram didn’t bother to ask twice before reaching over to cradle King’s face in his head. Both seemed to take a deep breathe before leaning in to meet each other halfway. The kiss was soft and slow, so agonizingly soft and slow that if King didn’t grip the other boy's jacket his knees would surely give out from under him. If he felt like he was going to pass out from a simple peck how the hell would he be able to handle doing anything else? 

Ram pulled away after a few seconds when he realized the other didn’t kiss back and King felt a wave of panic shoot through him. There was a brief look of hurt that flashed in his eyes, hands a trembling mess. King could feel Ram start to loosen his hold on his face and knew that he just messed this whole thing up. Again. Before Ram could drop his hands King stopped him. He pressed his hands against Ram’s own before gently rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. He began to lean in, making sure to keep eye contact in case the other changed his mind, but he never did. 

King pressed his lips to Ram’a gently, cautiously. It was similar to how Ram kissed him moments before and he did that for a reason. King wanted Ram to know that he wanted this but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts the first time. After a few moments of this he felt a sigh against his lips as Ram began to kiss back. Over and over again they kissed, every time one would lean back the other would just capture it in another kiss. It wasn’t heated—not in the typical way you see in movies or read about in books—but damn King was on cloud nine. Ram seemed to be feeling the same because he kept on sighing against King’s lips. This was now his new favorite sound. After a minute or two of lazily kissing (because they had all the time in the world) they broke apart out of breath. Somehow Ram’s face was even more red than it was before and King felt a thrill inside him to know that he was the cause of that. He was sure he looked just as flustered and wanted to desperately run a hand through his hair. It was his nervous tick that he only seemed to do when he was in the vicinity of a certain tattooed covered boy. He forced himself not to do it because that would mean letting go of Ram’s hands so instead he just let his forehead fall against his boyfriends. He had a million things he wanted to say but it seems like that little make out session left him incapable of forming a coherent sentence. “Woah, Cool Boy.” 

Ram laughed and King added it to his list of favorite sounds. Apparently all of his favorite sounds were related to Ram—because of course they would be. King began to laugh too, secretly glad that Ram didn’t speak. He did however lean forward and press a soft peck to the bridge of his nose—this time King was sure that it was Ram talk for woah is right. 

[deviationdivine]

A Little Misunderstanding (Connor!Prompt Request)

TLDR: It’s your second official date with Connor but things don’t go according to plan...

Word Count: 2,671

TW: Just my fluffy Connor boy. Brief Language.

A/N:Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Oh, cool. So you just killed a few guys. No big deal.” @catastrophes-light request! After some heavy angst I need this fluff in my life. Thank you for participating sweetie! I hope you like this one! Kiss my boy Connor for me. 

“So what’s it like?” 

Stalling from your typing to cock an eyebrow leans you towards abrupt question. In fact you take time to make sure this is the correct cubicle they’ve come to. Of course it is. Here comes gossip in a premeditated cornering while running away is not a possibility. 

Huh. Wonder how that preconstruction protocol really works. It will make life easier if high tech electronics zapped into the brain. Never mind the hypothesis. That’s too easy for someone to get unnatural ideas putting tech inside people’s heads.

Unnatural is a horrible word. Thinking of him being technology, never can you mean that. He is not just components. 

“What’s what like?” Refusal to take bait gives a leg up for now. You play dumb either way. 

A roll of their eyes reveals they’re onto the game second you drop such an ignorant response. “Oh, I don’t know. Android boyfriend? Ring a bell?”

Boyfriend? You stumble over that word. Hiding beneath faux laughter paints a conspicuous drawing. 

Technically it’s true. Tonight is going to be the second time you have gone out together. First filled you with nervous energy but slowly it fell into place. Puzzle pieces floating down gently, fusing in proper symmetry because Connor is a personal image you yearn to create. Within the very world you live, he exists as a personal shining light and somehow he feels the same. 

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Would he? Quit thinking brain or soon you may start to question. 

Honestly it is difficult not wrapping Connor into each crevice of thought, breathing in his infallible aura; sweetness exudes outside a mandate of professionalism where he works. You know this from times chatting so closely. There is something about him. It’s not because he’s an android. He possesses warmth most humans can hardly drudge up in their daily lives. He just is. 

Easily you fall into his abyssal chocolate, rich, flavorful whenever connecting with an equally rapturous gaze. All this without speaking and going to that fantasy beats a day of working. 

Office jobs are boring. That’s why they call them cushy office jobs. Still this beats staring at a monitor until eyes glaze over. Cross-eyed is bad for your vision working on these excel sheets all day long. Not that you will ever complain because this is easy compared to other places. 

Imagine doing customer service waiting tables or shudder to think: selling digital magazines by phone. 

The horror of telemarketing still chills you to the bone. God.  

Snorting quietly under breath, you smile up at your co-worker. Obviously they think the beaming reaction is for current subject. Well, he is a reason to smile every morning. Anticipating his crooked smile, bright brown eyes and the flop of hair hanging loosely in a kiss atop forehead; each tiny freckle on his face you long to kiss. 

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Sure you’ve known Connor for a while but it’s only recently the two of took a step in the romance department. It’s what you wanted from the beginning. He is just so undeniably perfect. 

“Um, hello?” The worker snaps fingers in front of your face. “Are you still on planet Earth? Or in robo paradise?” 

Obviously they will not go away unless they get something. Piranhas cannot be this bloodthirsty! 

“Actually, Connor is taking me out tonight. After work,” explaining hastily, returning to keyboard, a breath expels impatiently. Darkness cannot swallow Detroit soon enough. 

“Oooh! Private locale or-?” The ribbing co-worker continues for spicy details. 

Private locale in your most sought after dreams but no. You two only just started dating. It’s just a few outings. As much as you want a real, full relationship with the detective prototype small steps are best even comfortable around each other. Time as friends really became the most happy in your life. Connor makes you smile every day even if you do not see him. 

“A restaurant,” you correct the assumption. “A new one. It caters to humans and androids.” 

Yawning at the dull answer, they fold arms disappointed. “Sounds nice but - Does he have a…? You know.” 

“Like I would discuss that!” A scoff travels angrily up your throat. Seeing Connor completely undone from sharp, crisp wardrobe certainly pumps the heart quicker. You haven’t seen Connor naked! But you would like to. 

Burning into your soul it does unspeakable things. Why did they have to ask that out of a million others? Your buzzing cell phone saves a life alighting screen producing a personal call. On work time, shit.

Checking the number forces you to answer quickly, ignoring that fact now. “Connor!”

“Hello, Y/N. Am I disturbing any important matters at work?”

“No,” lying thickly convinces you best. Who cares when this beautiful boy is calling?

“I am afraid I will not be able to pick you up as per our mutual agreement.” 

Connor’s explanation is too technical on a given day. Always falls back into that type of thing even though you know now how human he’s become. Frankly you adore this. “Did we sign a contract?” Giggling a little instills instant regret as nosy co-worker does not take a hike. You glare. “Do-do you want to cancel?”

The android does not answer for a fraction of a second. Possibly attempting to analyze the worry vocalized in your voice. “No. I am sorry if I made you believe I wished to.” 

“Oh, no, Connor. I-I’m sorry. Um…are you OK?”

“Yes. It is a case that the lieutenant and I are working on. I will need a little more time.” Connor’s tone shifts, antagonizing over the altering probabilities. “I-I hope you are not disappointed, Y/N.”

Listen to him. He sounds so worried. Does he think a little change is end of the world? It genuinely made you feel important to him for this type of reaction. 

“Connor,” softly breathing in his name sends you upon a personal cloud. “I would never be disappointed with you. Why don’t we just meet instead?”

“Very well,” the android agrees enthusiastic for tonight. “I will always come to you. No matter what may hold me.” 

An hour and a half late! He actually left you stranded at this damn restaurant for nearly two hours looking like a complete idiot. 

How many people walked by giving you looks for pacing? Lost count at this point but my God are you so going to kill him! Angry is beyond these emotions streaming through your body. 

First step is irritation. Twenty minutes in waiting, knowing he will meet you here this time instead of him arriving at the apartment. He explained why. He called again to give a specific time. 

Time went out the window long ago and still you stand here. How long are you going to? Wake up and leave. Go back home and just forget this. Maybe-maybe it really wasn’t work. He may have used an excuse. After the first date did it not resonate as it did with you? Is he too sweet to just say it to your face? Instead, he stands you up! 

Waiting is an insult to your self esteem because no man, android or human, is going to make a fool of you. Why did you think it would be any different? Tears threaten but you hold them at bay. Is it worth shedding an ache squeezing the thudding muscle in your chest? 

Sometimes the most amazing person is not worth trampling over dignity. Never will that be a proper excuse to allow treatment of this kind. It’s time to decide.

Well, OK. You’re not waiting anymore. 

Pulling a jacket snug around your frame does nothing to stop ice freezing around your heart. Walking away is also walking away from a chance with him. Should have known taking it beyond friends would crash at your feet. 

“Y/N!”

Your stomach immediately drops. A familiar husky call stops you briefly. Even that is too much time. So he finally shows up and for what?! 

“Y/N! Wait, please, I…”

Rounding on him brought a solid finger jab into his chest. No manner of being such a tall and impossibly cute android stops your anger. Who does he think he is? After all of that awkward flirting, which did get smoother you will admit, and finally asking you out somewhere he strings you along. 

He could’ve not shown for the first date. If he truly wanted to back out then why did he sweep you off feet then? Thinking about how sore your toes are from working all day isn’t helping current mood. 

“Cut it out smart guy! If you think you’ll schmooze your way back into my good graces think again!” 

Schmoozing is counterproductive to the current stress Connor analyzes while yelling at him. It spikes his own despite knowing his reasons for being so late are justified. Perhaps-perhaps that is not the word he should say to appease you. Justification may come out wrong. 

The android does not feel it represents his feelings. Nothing ever in this universe is justifiable if it means upsetting you. After all this time, following imperfect advice from Hank, the detective found confidence to take this friendship to another stage. 

Obviously you felt the same. He scans everything easily but discerning natural changes within humans is also part of his programming. It is what he is made for. Deviancy grants him choice in how he incorporates these skills into daily life. Often times he chooses to use something humans call gut instinct. That is a strange thing to possess but Connor finds it to improve relations. 

Hank also calls him out on his bullshit and tells him to ‘stop analyzing shit’ all the time. “Let me explain,” the android insists, a glow of desperation in his soft burnished gaze. 

Emotion pours exclusively all for you as he feels blindingly guilty. You bring this in a bloom to his surface of wires. Never will he cause pain when you are a breath of air, a soft but endless prayer pulling him from doubts. It is affection, holding him, haunting him in encompassing deviancy. 

Connor feels lost still in moments. Life is of worth now but he must quietly accept troubles in his personal worth. It is only natural. As a deviant there is nothing but color. You are another hue dotting this world in beauty, his world. 

“You stood me up!” Hurt overshadows rationale when it means your Connor is the one who lied. “When you gave me a time. Was I supposed to wait all night? Why did you even show up now? If you don’t want to date just…!” 

A gasp steels words when Connor lays hands to your waist. The gesture alone is a thousand waves of lightening going off at once. Electricity conducts right through the crux of your body. 

“Something grave occurred while Lt. Anderson and I were on our stakeout.” 

Connor’s breath never sounded as hasty as it does at this precise moment. Scarlet bathes indicator, syncing in worrying flicks of stress the second he witnessed you speeding away along walkway. Grave may not be the best word. The android cocks his head brows furrowing in consideration. 

“There was a slight miscalculation on the number of assailants in attendance. I had to…take them out.” Connor bluntly finishes what normally would be a long winded statement. 

Another illegal shipping ring and this time they held several hostages for cover. An effective way to thwart police involvement but also a tip someone told them they were coming. 

“Forgive me. I did not mean for you to think I did not want this.” 

That-that’s nice what he just said but back up! Did he just say - take them out? As in…?

“Wait, Connor. Are you saying you…? Those criminals. Did you-?”

“Snuff them out?” He offers a colorful description that only Hank can rub off on him. “If you feel that is an appropriate answer… Yes.” 

“Oh, cool.” You whisper slightly distracted by his brutal honesty. “So you just killed a few guys. No big deal.” 

“Does that bother you, Y/N?” Connor wondered curiously, tilting his head to study your expression. 

“Bother me?” 

Any other time yes it would be problematic. Can’t say you’ve known many who just straight up knocked off a few people. He doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly to be honest. Maybe that’s just his aesthetic. Those deep brown puppy eyes do make knees buckle under pressure. 

An android who works for the local police department is rich icing. At least it is where your tastes are concerned. Even if he wasn’t a detective you are certain of how smitten this android makes you. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you decide your words carefully. “I mean you are a cop. Were they-they trying to hurt someone?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly.

Sparing details is part of his job. He does not want to cause further distress. Some incidents are better kept. Working as an official detective for the DPD, Connor does not want to tangle you in dangerous affairs.

“I am sorry,” he repeats. “I tried to be on time. Y/N, I will never let you down. I swear to you.” 

Never mind that. He just went from admitting he had to fight a few goons and then-? Who knows but the point is he-he will not stop giving such hopeful, apologetic eyes. It softens even his explanation for being so late. 

“Connor.” 

“I would like to kiss you now,” Connor murmurs softly on level with your lips. Hovering close with a breath of space between two pairs one manufactured but another delicate, warm as rose petals. “If I may?” 

Eyelids flutter shut in answer to his rich husk, artificial breath fanning across your face. Inhaling his scent, discerning less tacky cologne than you realize his partner wears. Actually it is a nice fresh scent, organic and crisp. 

His consideration, respect to obtain your consent only expands those butterflies rumbling pit of stomach. They are more. Metamorphosis creates fireflies in their stead. Glowing beautiful similarly to flickering azure captivating each time you study the indicator he still wears. 

“OK.” 

He smiles brief, twisting the corners unevenly but cherished by how your heart races whenever the feature molds his mouth. Lips mold now forming a work of art upon yours, sculpture, carved delicate but with a stroke of passion. All consuming, churning within the motors driving his existence. 

A shift in the position you both stand brings you away from sidewalk. Instead you find yourself pressing against weathered brick. Foundation keeping you from sinking underneath his raw emotional energy; pulling at the android’s bottom lip between teeth does wonderful things. 

Swallowing his groan only produces a mimicking moan up your throat as the smooth wet glide of his tongue enters to tangle in a caress. It is then you feel as though you can float. Pulling him closer by the front of his jacket, pristine navy fabric twisting in greedy digits, the kiss transcends hunger. 

This is love. It is the heart and you two make up the halves. 

Connor encapsulates you within his strong hold, arms sealing you away as a priceless gem. No fear of breakage will destroy the android’s fortified enclosure always keeping you safe no matter what will befall city. 

Detroit itself is a smoky night twinkling with thousands of stars above and he wishes to take you somewhere eclipsed of this bustling noise. Upon a soft blanket, laying you down to watch whatever celestial heavens you desire. Ultimately he will watch you, studying those constellations reflecting in a human gaze that he already loves. 

In this moment he does not feel doubt. He does not think of where he came from or those worries that will still come in his newfound life. He only thinks of this moment because this is the one that will burn a memory in the circuits of his mind, in his thudding synthetic heart. 

This memory is you…

Tag List: @elydith  @your-taxidermy

[alice-in-idol-land]

a million little lights

Read on AO3 here

Series: Fire Emblem Tokyo Mirage Sessions

Pairing: Tsubasa/Eleonora

Word Count: 522

Summary: Her feelings don't make sense, but oh, goodness, do they exist. Tsubasa isn't surprised when she finds herself paying just a little bit more attention than necessary to the person who had caught her eye.

A/N:  I... honestly forgot this counted as an FE game? I think I lost my brain cells somewhere... Anyways Tsubasa’s super bi and Ellie’s a lesbian it’s true I’m telling you. 

For @ferarepair-week Day 6: Change

Tsubasa Oribe is very much interested in Eleonora Yumizuru. 

It's a strange, strange feeling to have her eyes glued to someone other than Itsuki. Itsuki had always been there for her, there to comfort her and make her laugh and help her out whenever he could. It was only natural that she'd gravitate to him, of course, and Tsubasa knows that what she feels for him (felt for him?) is love, through and through. That won't change, she's certain.

But, despite that, there's Ellie - sweet, wonderful, sort of haughty but still caring, Ellie. She'll toss her head and laugh about how she'll be in Hollywood sooner than later and all Tsubasa can do is stare in awe. Her feelings don't make sense, but oh, goodness, do they exist. Tsubasa isn't surprised when she finds herself paying just a little bit more attention than necessary to the person who had caught her eye.

By sheer coincidence (Tsubasa swears it was unintentional - it's not like she'd been watching Ellie's show religiously every week, right?) Tsubasa manages to see the scene Ellie had been working so hard on, the one she'd had to practice with Itsuki.

"I... just wanted you to know..." Ellie's character on screen says. "I love you."

Tsubasa's heart skips a few more beats than it probably should but she gasps and screws her eyes shut. This is... probably what she'd want to happen to her, she thinks.  Ellie's too cute, honestly, with the way her eyes cast downward in embarrassment, how she smiles just so slightly in hope of reciprocation, the lilt of her voice as it trails off, all of it! If it were Tsubasa and not this fictional main character who was being confessed to, she'd squeal with joy and chant a mantra of yes yes yes until her feelings properly got across. It'd be embarrassing, to say the least, but Tsubasa knows herself well enough. If such a thing were to ever really happen... Well, being embarrassed would be the least of her worries. God, she'd be so happy!

"So..." comes Ellie's voice from the screen, shaking Tsubasa from her imagination as she focused her attention back on the screen. "Won't you... choose me... please?" Ellie's eyes meet the camera and, god, Tsubasa swears she's staring right at her. It's too cute, too good, too perfect, Tsubasa can't help the high pitched squeal that leaves her mouth as she falls to the ground.

"I'd choose you any day!" she tells the screen, even though the show has already begun to play it's ending sequence. As Tsubasa stares at the moving images of other characters, it's then that she realizes it. She's such an idiot, to not have noticed such an important, life-changing change earlier. With a groan, Tsubasa rolls over and stares at her ceiling, looking at the familiar landscape. She'd been dumb to think things wouldn't change, to think her affections would be the only constant in her life. But... maybe that was okay.

Tsubasa Oribe is intensely in love with Elenora Yumizuru, she thinks. It might be different, but it feels right, so it must be.

[hauntedbubblewriter]

Just a second longer...

Summary: “What If we would date for 24 hours? No awkwardness just a perfect day without any worries”

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader

Words: 1,950

Genre: Fluff

Chapter: 1/4

Next Chapter: Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Starting another Story with a shy and introverted Girl that gets her perfectly boring life ruined by a handsome boy, followed by waves of troubles would have been a better way of spending her afternoon. 

Instead she was sitting on a white generic chair in front of a basic ikea table, decorated by some expensive looking vase filled with a pair of roses and a small candle that enlights the table. In any other situation she would have admired the roses and probably took some aesthetic pictures with them, but all of this screamed cliché, generic, basic, boring. She hasn’t expect anything else when she left her college a few hours ago with a flyer full of red hearts and the promise of finding true love. There was no reason to go there, no one forced her to and still she was sitting here now. Judging the red roses in front of her that were supposed to bring the romance vibe. 

Looking back at it, this was just a really sad moment of her life. For the first time in ages she realized how lonely she actually had to be, to sit her unironically to meet some potential love interest. For a second she wanted to just run out get in a comfy corner of her apartment and rethink her life choices that brought her to this point. From another perspective the place didn’t seem too bad. The prices were decent and the people she talked to had been quiet nice, but all of them had this awkward aura. The “I’m not sure what to say” aura, “I don’t even think I want her” aura “I’d rather talk to the pretty guy on table 4” aura and even if they didn’t, all their conversation were fixed on getting to know each other but it didn’t feel like anyone actually care. 

“There had to be a reason they’re all single” she didn’t mean to think that badly from them but she was just frustrated by the whole situation. She soon question If she was jus as bad as them immediately wishing herself back into the safety of her corner. Then again the next person would come and start the conversation with “man I normally don’t do this but my friends forced me” excuse. No one wanted to go around and say “man I am so lonely so I just hope to find anyone” but at least be honest with yourself. It’s more fun to accept that both of you are just lonely. At least thats what she thought. 

Waiting for the next person was always the best part. She could take a break from all of this and just enjoy the music and hope it would all just end. Till a new voice brought her out of her relaxed state. His voice was a little higher than the one of most guys, his hair was dyed in a light purple, probably because the colour faded after time, it looked good tho. He had a warming smile and for a second there was a little hope in her while looking at him. 

“You don’t look really happy to be here” he said in his sweet voice, making her feel quiet bad to make it so obvious right from the start. “I guess this is all new to me, I guess I just don’t like it.” She laughed sheepishly. “Guess all the awkward conversations are getting to me” There was a frustrated groan on the other side of the table from the newest arrival of potential love interests. That brought her eyes to actually look at the boy a little bit more in detail. He wore some golden big round glasses that showcased his brown eyes. They sparkled with something magical she couldn’t quiet pin point what it was. 

“I can totally understand. It’s been really…. Let me say difficult” he grinned showing a pretty set of white teeth “I am Wooyoung by the way” The two locked their eyes what seemed like the first time for the day that they looked at someone actually with curiosity hidden in their eyes. She returned the smile and threw in her Introduction as well. “Y/n…. I have a pretty crazy idea… would you be interested?”  

Uncertain were this would go she mustered the young boy one more time while her head threw all the possibilities around. In the end curiosity got the best of her and she was willing to hear what he had to say. “What If we would date for 24 hours? No awkwardness just do what you always dreamt of in a relationship without any worries since it will end anyway right? and no worries to be stuck with someone you don’t like for longer than needed.” It sounded crazy, stupid, dangerous and so many more negative adjectives. On the other hand it was something new maybe there was a risk to it, but it was only 24 hours. What is the worst that could happen? “I don’t know if I lost all my brain cells sitting here but I agree, but no 18+ stuff” Wooyoung defensively threw his hands in the air a slight smirk on his lips “I would have never dreamt of that.” In the first few seconds of this so called relationship there was some intense judging on her side “Somehow I don’t believe you.” The disappointed was clear on his face “Hey you barley know me how could you already assume such things.”

“So your saying I should have realized that only later in those 24 hours.”

“Let me just ignore this for now so we can leave this place. Alright?”

“right”

There was an obvious pout on his lips and it would be a lie If she didn’t think it was adorable. He reached for her hand pulling her gently up to get out of the classy restaurant. Returning their number to the waiter that organized the event happily announcing their new started relationship. The waiter wasn’t able to hide his confusion by the sudden confession. Of course people started dating here… but not that fast. Before he could voice any of those thoughts the new loving couple already left through the wooden door of the restaurant, big smiles on their faces, giggling like children that said I like you for the first time.

“Okay the most important rule to be the happiest couple for a day, don’t overthink anything. Act like we are a couple for already millions of years” he pronounced the “millions” overly happy making the importance clear. “Of course baby how could I ever forget the millions of years we spend together” she replied sarcastically empathising on the “millions” part on a try to mock him a little. “Fine I think you get it. So I’ll choose what we do” You simply raised your eyebrows kinda forgetting that you’d been holding hands for the whole time “I’m scared you choose something weird tho” the purple haired boy glared at her playfully “Marshmallow how could you still think of me like this” 

Both of you broke into a big laughter at that. The nickname was unusually cheesy and at this point it was just a battle who could embarrass the other quicker and at this point Wooyoung was winning as she could feel her ears turning red. She was only lucky her hair hide the obvious point Wooyoung just won. 

“Let’s go to a fortune teller.” She stared at him with a look of confusion “Are you serious?” He just nodded and pulled his phone out probably using google to find the wanted fortune teller. “How does your mind even work?” Who would think of a fortune teller as the first thing to do on a date? He wasn’t paying attention to her just using his free hand to scroll through his phone. 

“Here found one” He showed her his screen filled with a little icon and the address of “the magical twilight fortune” It sounded so dumb it had to be fun. That’s what she thought at least, but never actually voiced not wanting to praise this ridiculous idea. “Let’s be real you would have chosen something boring like cinema or so” Now her face was a frown while she was dragged behind Wooyoung, not only hurt that he guessed her suggestion but also said its boring. “Cinema dates are fun” she mumbled glaring at the back of his purple hair. 

“Knew it” he chuckled ruffling through her hair “sure Marshmallow their suuuuuuuuper fun” she winced again at the officially obtained nickname “Why Marshmallow” she whined lazily trying to follow his steps “Because your cheeks are squishy and cute and I wanna eat them” she couldn’t help the laugh coming out of her once he finished that sentence. Deciding to really use this date she threw her hands around him “You’re really weird Chipmunk” a grin spread on her lips when the beautiful whine entered her ears “why Chipmunk that’s so lame” she couldn’t ignore the slight blush on his cheeks quickly counting it as her first point. Now they were even 

“You sound like on when you laugh” She shrugged letting go of his hand to go inside of the fortune teller. Wooyoung just followed like a small puppy running after its owner. The two were guided to a door covered in veil. The unusual pair sat down into the empty room now feeling a little unsure than they expected to feel. After a few minutes a middle aged women entered the room and sat in front of them. 

“So you two want to know your chemistry and future of your relationship.” Suddenly full of determination Wooyoung hold her hand with a complete serious face agreeing to the request making his adorable girlfriend laugh, probably more than she should. The fortune teller ignored the sudden laugh attack and prepared the fortune for the two lovebirds.

“I see you two got quiet lucky. Your chemistry is sizzling. Your sign lord is Venus & Saturn their the lords of lovers. There is a bright future ahead for the both of you.” She had a puzzled look of embarrassment and confusion because of the weird things the fortune teller just said what had Venus and Saturn to do with their relationship. The information took its time to procress but the blush of the sizzling was already there and didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Aww you’re cute, you’re ears turn read” he was squalling like an idiot, normally she would have been ready to fight him by now but she was to embarrass so a week push was all she could manage. It sadly had the opposite effect of what she wanted he just started to tease her more, loving the new power he obtained way to much. 

“Yah stop” she hide her face still trying to shove the way to energetic boy away from her. “It’s nice to see the chemistry myself like this. Please give the money to my assistant” The fortune teller left as quickly as she came and the person from before guided the “fighting” couple outside. “That would cost 30€” The bickering was quickly stopped by the sudden announcement “30?” Both of them exclaimed not believing their ears. 

Before Wooyoung could even try to get a better deal Y/n was already backstabbing him “It was your idea so you’re gonna pay” She huffed still mad about what happened inside the faint blush had moved its way to her cheeks now as well and Wooyoung just sighed accepting his fate.

Here the seriously meant first post. I feel like I haven’t wrote anything in ages. Sooooo I hope you still enjoyed it somehow.

[sweetdreamstrilogy]

Chapter 2

The Longest Summer

…was only made longer, wondering what was on the other side of it.

Getting expelled was kind of like dying, only without the funeral and everybody missing you and wishing you’d come back. No one even seemed to notice I was gone. I didn’t hear from Angela or anyone we hung out with and if they wondered where I disappeared to, I never heard about it. I always wanted to blend in, stick to the shadows, but it took getting kicked out to realize just how well I’d done on that front. At least I was good at something.

That first night was the worst, locked in my room that felt smaller than a coffin, listening to my mom and Cliff go round and round. Little fuck up, I told you he wouldn’t make it to the end of the year. Teeth grinding. He’s getting another chance, I know he can do it. Guts twisting. Don’t be an idiot Marla, he’s just gonna fuck up again. That’s what fuck ups do. Round and round and round until I threw on headphones and blasted music loud enough to drown out their voices, and a hundred other voices crowding in my head, asking questions I couldn’t answer. Like, what now? Or, how the fuck am I gonna survive this summer? Without anywhere to go, or anyone to turn to?

At least I didn’t miss Angela. Whatever I felt towards her had popped like a bubble and was gone forever. I only felt stupid for ever thinking I loved her. The place where all the rough sketches of a future with her used to live, all the worry and wondering how to help her, how to save her - it was just an empty grave now, filling in fast with new worries, new fears, new questions.

Like, why the fuck was this happening? It wasn’t getting kicked out that bothered me, that barely even scratched the surface of my attention. But what was waiting at the end of summer…that loomed up like a tidal wave. How could I leave, knowing what Cliff was capable of? How could I stay, knowing my own mom, the only person left on earth I gave a damn about, didn’t even want me around? She’d planned all this, knowing I’d get kicked out eventually, choosing somewhere so far away it might as well be on another planet. I wanted to be surprised, furious, but I just felt gutted, carved out, knowing like I’d known all along - there was nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice for him, not even me.

I didn’t sleep at all that first night, looking for another answer, trying to convince myself that she did this for my own good, to help me achieve my potential or whatever bullshit she fed me earlier. True or not, I couldn’t stay where I wasn’t wanted and that left me with exactly zero options. I could go, or I could go, or I could go. Which meant Cliff was finally getting everything he wanted, free reign over his trashy little kingdom. Now he could say whatever he wanted to her, do whatever he wanted to her and I was just supposed to step aside and let that happen? I ground my teeth around that thought, looking for another way, but there was none.

You can’t save nobody, he had said and maybe that was the one thing we could agree on. There was nothing I could do. I tried, ten years I tried, my first words were probably “let me help you” and my first memories were checking to see if she was still alive in the middle of the night. What good had it ever done? After she kicked the drugs, once, then again, then one more time for good luck, she just replaced them with alcohol, the easy poison, the clever demon lurking in every shadow, always on her heels, already overdue to take another bite out of her. After my dad bought his one-way ticket out of this world, she just found somebody else, and then somebody else, then somebody else until Cliff finally stuck, unmovable, incurable, like a cancer that kills slowly, slowly. But I was always there, I was the one who got her to rehab, I was the one who stopped her from ODing, I was the one who called the cops on her fucking boyfriends. What was she gonna do without me? What was I gonna do without her to look out for?

It hit me with a cold chill - that’s why she wanted me gone. My whole life had been all about her, her problems, her boyfriends, her addictions. A million miles away there’d be nothing for me to do, nothing to think about except…me.

Maybe she thought that would get me back on track, help regrow all the brain cells I’d killed with cigarettes and booze. But she didn’t know what I knew - the damage was already done, stupid Derrick wasn’t gonna suddenly disappear, he was just gonna be on the other side of the world and even more alone than ever.

It must’ve looked like a sweet deal to her though - give Cliff everything he wanted and give me “a chance” in one fell swoop. But did she realize how long a year was? Did she realize the thread connecting us was thin enough that just crossing the street could snap it? Did she even care? Of course not. She had Cliff and I had nobody. Maybe I never did.

Around and around it went, all night, until the sky lightened and the neighbors started screaming at each other, the rooster of the trailer park. I watched the sunrise from the roof, just like the morning before, blowing smoke at the sun and thinking how everything looked the same but everything was changed, shaking my head at the old me who knew nothing at all. I felt strangely calm, light even, kinda like that feeling when you get a buzz just right and for a minute you forget how wrong everything is, how everyone you love is gonna die someday, maybe someday soon. I think it was because I finally let go. I finally decided and when you decide there’s nothing left to do but do it.

TRIGGER WARNING - contemplating suicide in detail

I was so relieved thinking how this was my last stupid day on earth that I didn’t even think about leaving a note until I was already halfway to the tracks. I stopped, thinking about going back. What would I even say? Sorry mom, had to go. No, there was nothing to say, or maybe too much. Either way, it was already too late - they’d be awake by now and I kind of had my heart set on never seeing Cliff’s chew smeared grin again.

There was no train when I got there and I wasn’t sure how long  it would be until it came. If it ran on a schedule, I never noticed but it always showed up eventually. I figured waiting a little longer wasn’t so bad, considering the alternative. Course, the problem with that was it gave me a chance to think.

I sat on the tracks, looking down the line that disappeared around a bend and into the trees. I pulled out a cigarette and smoked, strangely aware of the golden sun, the birds talking to each other in the trees around me, the way the smoke felt so smooth reaching deep in my lungs. It made me think maybe life wasn’t so bad after all, but I clamped down hard on that thought, telling myself it was just survival instinct kicking in, a million years of evolution whispering in my head that no matter how horrible, living is always better than dying, something is always better than nothing.

“Not always.” I said aloud, trying to ignore the perfect day waking up all around me. I crushed my first cigarette and lit another. Might as well finish the pack - survival instinct wasn’t gonna get me this time. All it ever had was questions - why not one more day? what if she still needs you? what if something good is just around the corner? But it never was. There were just a thousand black nights waiting to eat me whole, even though here in the daylight that seemed impossible. That’s why it took all my strength to stay still when the tracks started to hum underneath me.

I tried to stay calm and smoke my cigarette slow, but my heart was beating down the door inside my chest. I reminded myself all the reasons I had to go - there was nothing left for me, nobody in the whole damn world, not even me. I was just a stupid fuck-up, the best I could hope for was a shitty minimum wage job, a shitty apartment, a shitty life-

The train was coming around the bend. My cigarette was down to the filter, burning my fingers but I hardly felt it. It took all I had to stay still. Just a little longer and it’d all be over - empty, black, nothingness…probably. Whatever it was it had to be better than this, right? Survival instinct was in my ear again, why risk it, when death is so final and life is so full of possibility? Probably some bullshit I heard in one of my mom’s AA meetings.

The train’s horn blasted, sending the singing birds into the air like a gust of wind. I watched them go, the moment seem to hang, suspended and spinning in mid-air. Then the horn blasted again and the moment was gone. Could they see me? Would they try to stop? It was too late though, no brakes in the world were that good. All I had to do was keep my nerve and it would all be over soon. I stared down the eye of the train - stay still, stay still.

(possibility)

Stay still, dammit!

From somewhere far away I could feel my muscles shaking with the effort, my fingers burning from gripping the shaking tracks. Just a few more seconds…I’d never let it come this close. My head was going crazy, trying to take control of my body,  trying to reason with me. Possibility, possibility, possibility and then-

TRIGGER WARNING END

Destiny.

It was that word that sent me sprawling back into the grass at the last second, so close that for a minute I thought I was dead and when I realized I wasn’t I started to cry. The train was screaming by me, so loud I couldn’t even hear myself but it wrecked my whole body, a tsunami crashing over the unsuspecting shoreline.

By the time the train was gone I was empty and silent, staring up at the clear blue sky, trees waving in my peripheral vision. The birds were talking again. I could hear my heart beating, feel the sweat cooling, my fingers aching. My mind was empty, for once, except for that strange word that didn’t mean anything to me, not yet. Destiny.

What the fuck does that mean? That was my first coherent thought as I sat up on my elbows, arms still shaking like jello. Destiny was for heroes in fantasy books and I was about as far from a hero as you could get.

God dammit, I was so close, I had my mind made up, one more second and I would’ve been…somewhere else. Something deep inside was glad I wasn’t. The rest of me was miserable, almost panicked, knowing I’d have to try again, knowing I didn’t have the nerve to, knowing but not believing that there was no choice - I was gonna have to get up and trudge through this day and the next and the next. All for some meaningless word that was gonna fade from my mind like a dream.

I smoked another cigarette with shaking fingers and told myself I’d wait for the next train, but I just sat there all morning and most of the afternoon, smoking the rest of my pack, ignoring my growling stomach, listening to the birds and the bugs, watching the sun arc over the sky. When the next train came I just watched it go. All my nerve was used up in that one attempt and God only knew how bad things were gonna have to get before I had the guts to try again. In the meantime there was nothing to do but go home with my head hanging, like some prisoner finally accepting his sentence. I just hoped they wouldn’t notice I was gone so long or ask me why, but of course they didn’t.

When I finally got back, exhausted, stinking like sweat and starving, the trailer was empty. I wasn’t disappointed but I wasn’t glad. I just knew I didn’t want to be there when they came back, so I ate a sandwich so quick it made me feel sick and had the quickest shower of my life. I was out the door again before fifteen minutes had passed, with a fresh pack of cigarettes and a fifth of jack I stole from Cliff’s stash. It was gonna be a warm, clear night and I was gonna spend it alone, under the stars.

I just didn’t expect to spend the whole summer that way.

When I wasn’t working double shifts to save for whatever strange future lay ahead of me, I was out wandering, walking along the tracks, smoking and trying not to think about anything, waiting for the sun to burn down the horizon. The clear nights I spent in the fields, staring into the darkness, the night alive with crickets chirping all around me. More often than not I fell asleep there. Thanks to that, I was hardly ever home, except to change and shower and scarf down whatever food I could find. My mom barely seemed to notice. She never asked me where I went or seemed to care but then again I made it my life’s mission to never be alone in a room with her. We only saw each other in passing and even then there was a distant look in her eyes, like she was already forgetting me.  

The summer dragged on. By the time the forms came, with all their blank lines and checkboxes, I was almost looking forward to leaving, just to put the nightmare to an end. It was like being stuck in a dream, a delirium…and like always, I was in it alone.

Then suddenly, one day, it was over. My flight was booked, my suitcase was packed and my mom was looking at me sadly, saying, “please, just let us drive you. Cliff really wanted to take us all out for a nice dinner, a kind of going-away present-"

"Mom…” I hadn’t expected her to try so hard, since she’d pretty much ignored me all summer. I’d planned on walking and then getting the bus to take me the rest of the way. But my suitcase was heavy and my resolve was shit and I didn’t want to be the reason she was holding back tears. “I, uh, alright, okay. But I gotta be there by seven.”

“Got it.” She said, flashing a smile I hadn’t seen in months and it almost made me smile too.

Then Cliff came around the corner and ruined it all with a snarky grin, saying with a mouthful of chew, “ready to hit the road?"

That’s how I ended up crammed in the backseat of Cliff’s truck, sandwiched between his tools and my suitcase, flying down the highway toward O'hare. I tried to stare out the window, focus on the city coming into view, but all I could see was them holding hands in my periphery. Should’ve walked, I kept thinking, should’ve just hoofed it.

After an endless thirty minutes of Cliff’s country music, he finally pulled off an exit early and parked in front of a little Italian restaurant that was squeezed between a parking garage and the overpass. They got out of the car first and didn’t even look back to see if I was stumbling in after them. I should’ve known then, sensed something was off, but I was thinking about what it was gonna be like to see all this from a thousand feet in the air. Would it feel small? Or would I?

Dinner was excruciating. However long the summer was, this felt ten times longer. I might’ve been a ghost if my mom didn’t keep throwing out a random question here and there, what classes do they have you taking? Do you get a room all to yourself? Cliff seemed to resent every moment the attention wasn’t on him. I wondered why he bothered to bring me at all and by the time I figured it out, it was too late to do anything about it.

"Marla, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” One minute we were eating dessert and the next he was on one knee.

The whole restaurant went dead quiet, and I just sat there, dumb and silent, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. The only sound was my mom’s gasp and then I missed the rest because my dinner was burning its way back up my throat and I was pushing through the crowded dining room, out a side door, into a dimly lit alleyway that reeked of trash, where the sound of clapping and whooping followed me until the door crashed shut and I was alone.

For a minute there I just felt everything at once, the urge to scream or cry or punch something, it all came in waves so fast I couldn’t react, so I just stood there with clenched fists, breathing in the rancid air, until the weight of it pushed me to my knees against a greasy wall, thinking, that’s why he brought me, didn’t want me to miss the show, the last twist of the- the thought was cut off by the back door swinging open.

“Derrick?” My mom’s voice. She peered around the door and saw me. In her eyes I saw it all, the elation, the frustration, why can’t you just be happy for me? My eyes dropped like a dead weight to the ring on her finger, a cheap thing he probably got out of a crackerjack box. The sight of it somehow brought me back to myself.

“This is crazy.” I said, rising to my feet. “He’s an alcoholic. He hits you, he talks to you like you’re a fucking dog, he gave me this scar-” I started to lift my hair to show her but I could see she didn’t care, she already knew all that. My voice came out thin. “You can’t marry him."

"I know you don’t believe it, but things are different now-"

Here we were, running our lines again, once more with feeling.

"No, they’re not and they’re never gonna be. You’re supposed to put down dogs that bite, not marry them-"

"Derrick…” She was giving up on me, shaking her head. “You’ll understand when you love somebody."

"That isn’t love!” My voice echoed in the alleyway. I felt suddenly raw, bottomed out. “Mom, please…don’t do this."

She just looked at me with weary apology. She couldn’t help it and I couldn’t save her. "Please, just come back inside.” And when I didn’t respond, she went back the way she came.

For a moment I couldn’t move, just stood there in the rank alleyway, listening to the traffic from the street and the sounds drifting out of the kitchen. I thought of going back inside, making amends, tucking my head just to get through the evening. Then I thought of Cliff’s smug, smiling face. My guts twisted and I knew what I had do.

His truck was unlocked, thankfully and I wrestled my suitcase from the backseat and onto the ground. The money I’d earned over the summer paid for a taxi to the airport. As I watched the buildings whir passed my vision, I tried not to think about anything, not Cliff and his stupid plan to gut me one last time, not my mom and how she might not even notice I was gone, not the flight and all the hours I had ahead of me to think of all the things I didn’t want to think about.

The taxi stopped in front of departures and I stepped out onto the curb, into my new life. For a minute I just stood there on the sidewalk, surrounded by cars leaving and arriving, people coming and going, doors opening and closing. I didn’t know where to go, what to do. I’d never been on a plane before. I’d never even left Chicago.

I did the only thing I could do - started forward blindly, my suitcase groaning with a loose wheel behind me. Then the confusion of the airport swept me up for awhile - the lines and rules, elevators and escalators, everyone rushing around me or else bored, waiting for nothing. I didn’t even realize it was over until I was in my seat, face tight from nicotine deprivation, staring down at the tarmac, mind finally quiet enough to wonder if my mom was on her way home already. If she called I’d never know, I’d turned my phone off -  indefinitely. There was no one to talk to anyway. I was alone, for real, for good. The feeling was strange but not that unfamiliar and it subsided when a stranger took a seat next to me.

I squeezed up next to the window and put my headphones in. I only had the one CD, an old mixtape I made for Angela that she never listened to, but it was gonna have to last me all night. It was strange to think that in the morning - or would it be evening when I got there? The time difference didn’t make sense to me at all - everything would be different, as if it weren’t already. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it - even though I knew what the Academy looked like and had a rough idea of what I’d be doing there, thanks to all the brochures and pamphlets, the future was just a blank white slate. Anything could happen, I just couldn’t imagine what. Every time I tried to imagine myself there, pressed suit, slicked back hair, it just looked like somebody photoshopped me into the picture. I just didn’t belong, I probably never would-

These thoughts were interrupted by a flight attendant’s speech and then the part I’d been waiting for - take off. Since I’d never been on a plane before, I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was strangely exhilarating, the weightless feeling as the wheels rose up above the ground, seemingly against all odds. The ground got smaller and smaller and smaller until I could see everything; Chicago lit up in a grid of gold, Lake Michigan a black silhouette hugging its edges. I wondered if one of those little brake lights was Cliff, stuck in traffic. I hoped it was. I hoped they were already forgetting me, cause God knew I was gonna try to forget them.

The rest of the flight went quickly. I stared out the window, watching the lights get further and farther between, until we were too high to see anything but clouds. I thought it’d be hard to fall asleep but somehow I must’ve, because half a dozen hours passed without me knowing and when I opened my eyes again, the sun was rising over the ocean. I kept thinking I should feel worse, scared or worried or something, but I just felt calm. Maybe it was because, for the moment anyway, I was in-between worlds. What was behind me was behind me and what was ahead of me was unknown. And that small voice that saved me from the train-tracks was still whispering about destiny, somewhere in the back of my mind.

I don’t know what time it was when we landed, but all of a sudden we were below the clouds and sweeping over a city. It didn’t look all that different from Chicago, really, smaller maybe with a lot less skyscrapers and no Great Lake but it was still just a regular city. That comforted me somehow, knowing I wasn’t going somewhere all that foreign. Then we hit the runway and it started to sink in - I was here, it was happening, something, I didn’t know what. Suddenly the flight attendant was talking again and everyone was getting up around me, struggling with their bags, waddling down the aisle. I was one of the last to go, some invisible weight holding me to my seat. Maybe I could just wait for the next flight, spend the rest of my life above the clouds, yeah, that seemed like a good idea-

“Sir?” The flight attendant was looking at me curiously.

“Yeah, sorry."

The airport wasn’t all that different either, just smaller. First thing first, I smoked two cigarettes in a row just to feel somewhat normal again. Then I realized how hungry I was and grabbed a sandwich from one of the airport shops, counting out my money and wondering just how long it was gonna last me. It wasn’t until I got to the counter that I realized it wasn’t the kind of money they wanted and then I had to go and find someone to exchange it. By the time that was over I was starved and pretty sure I was supposed to be on a train to somewhere else, but I couldn’t think straight, seeing as a whole new life had started without me. I went back for the sandwich and resolved to figure it all out after. That’s how I ended up missing the first train.  

The second I missed because I couldn’t decide if this was really happening or not. It just seemed easier to wait around in the airport, holding onto that last bit of freedom, that last chance to change my fate forever and do something - anything - else. I took a chance and ordered a beer at a little pub tucked between a McDonalds and KFC, and by some miracle they gave it to me. By the time I had a good buzz going, the third train had come and gone and I was too happy to care. I was free - for the first time in my life - I was free. I could go anywhere, do anything. I had enough money saved up to take the train just about anywhere and when I got there - wherever it was I going - I could just find some job bussing tables again, make enough to rent a room. Even a bed in a hostel would be enough for me. I could work my way across the world, visit places I’d never heard of, see things no poor kid from Chicago has any right to see. Yeah, this was my chance, I was gonna go my own way, make my own path, let fate lead me-

"Derrick? Derrick Woods?"

I was drowning my fourth beer when I heard my name out of nowhere. My stomach plummeted. Was it all a dream? Was I about to wake up? Still on the plane, or worse, still in Chicago? I jerked my head around to see where the sound was coming from and saw a compact, official-looking boy wearing a suit and glasses, yelling my name at passersby like some bizarre foreign greeting. Almost out of surprise, I answered,

"Yeah?"

He turned to me with the look of someone lost in the desert who just found water. But when he saw me his expression went sour and got worse with every step he marched in my direction, repeating,

"Derrick? Derrick Woods?”

“Yeah…” I said, and drained the last of my beer. Something told me this kid was about to ruin my day.

“You know you were expected at the Academy three hours ago?”

I shrugged vaguely. “Missed the train."

"You know there are other trains…coaches…” He was looking at me like he was trying to figure out if I was mentally challenged or not. He sighed, bristling and giving up. “It’s of no matter now, come with me.” He started away and then turned back when I didn’t follow. “Quickly, or you’ll miss another train!"

I hesitated, not sure how to explain that my plans had changed and I was just gonna wander the world now. He came up and tugged on my leather jacket, that’s about when he realized I’d been drinking.

"Oh dear, no, you cannot be old enough to drink-"

The bartender cleaning glasses looked up suspiciously so I had not choice but to slap a shiny, new foreign bill on the bar and follow the stranger tugging on me. When we were out of earshot, I slowed, bringing him to a stop beside me.

"I-I’m not going.” That was all I could get out with the cloud over my brain.

“What? Why not?"

"I changed my mind, I’m gonna-” I waved my hand vaguely toward the airport exit. “Travel the world."

"Are you mad?” And then to himself. “Did they send me a lune?” He tugged on my jacket again. “Enough nonsense, we have to get going.” When I didn’t budge, he continued. “You can’t be serious."

"It’s my best bet.” I said, mostly to myself but he turned to me seriously.

“No, it’s not. You’re a minor in a foreign country. What will you do for money? Where will you live? You’ll need a work visa, proper documentation. You can’t just loiter in foreign countries like some- some vagabond.” I knew this kid was going to ruin my day. “Now come with me, they’re expecting us."

I had no choice but to follow sullenly, wondering who the hell ”they" were. My suitcase struggled along with me, like an old, sympathetic friend.

“I’m William, by the way. William Dorsey the Third.” Of course that was his name. “Here we are. Just stay put and I’ll get the tickets.”

I thought about walking off when he turned his back. His tirad broke my spirit though and all that was left was a dull feeling of dread, growing stronger as my buzz faded. I was gonna be trapped again, stuffed into a uniform like his, miserable and alone, until they finally realized I didn’t belong and kicked me out just like at McKinley. I looked around for some escape, a sign, a miracle but then he was back with the tickets and all I could do was follow him onto the platform.

“I’m head of our house this year.” He said, as we found our seats on the train.

“What is that, like hall monitor?"

"Hall monitor? Is that American slang or something?"

"No, it’s…” I didn’t have the energy to explain. “Nevermind. Doesn’t matter."   

The train pulled away from the station and suddenly it was too late to do anything but watch as the foreign sights passed before my eyes, quicker and quicker.

"Well, in any case, I suppose I should acquaint you with the rules considering we have nothing but time,” he went on. I sighed and kept staring out the window like I hadn’t heard him. “They’re fairly standard, for boarding school…you have been to boarding school before, haven’t you?"

"Oh yeah, tons of times.” I rolled my eyes out the window.

“Oh good.” He said, nestling into the seat across from me with a satisfied look. “Hold on, do I detect a note of a sarcasm?"

I grunted, something between a laugh and assent.

"Was that a yes?” He squinted at me from behind square glasses. “You know, we’re going to have to learn to communicate eventually. We’re to share a room, after all."

"Us?"

"Yes…” He said, examining my face like I might be slow, then muttering to himself, “Although, perhaps that can be rearranged…no, no, it’s too late. Nothing to be done about it.” He raised his eyes back to me. “Rooming with an experienced boarder should prove helpful. And I’m sure I can count on you to return the favor and be a courteous housemate.”

“I can try.” I sighed, trying to picture spending the next year trapped in a room with this guy. Maybe he’d rub off on me and I’d come home with a tie and a British accent, or maybe I’d rub off on him - no, that didn’t seem likely. Picturing him in a leather jacket was about as ridiculous as me with straight A’s and a stack of books under my arm.

“…just be certain to read the rules very closely,” He was still going on. “Keep up with your studies, our house has the highest marks of anyone and we want to keep it that way."

I nodded, not really listening, trying to figure out when would be a good time to jump off the train. This wasn’t going to work, that much was obvious. My first instinct was right, I should’ve just stayed at the airport, drinking until I ran out of money or dropped dead, whichever came first. What the hell was my mom thinking, sending me to this place? What was I thinking, actually going? I was just a stupid nobody, worse than a dropout, only good at one thing and that was getting myself kicked out - out of school and out of my life. Now I was stuck on a train with this kid who was nice enough but sure to turn on me before long, barrelling toward another failure, another disappointment, another trap I was gonna have to-

"Hello?” William was waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you alright?"

"Huh…yeah."

"I know rules can be dull but I thought I’d lost you there for a moment."

"I think I should get off-” I said, starting to stand.

“Are you ill? We’re nearly there."

I sat back down. "We are?"

"Yes, but the toilet is just down there if you need it."

"No, it’s okay."

"You look quite pale."

"It’s normal."

"Well, you won’t be getting a tan anytime soon. England is quite rainy. Gloomy and gray, even, at times."

That much I knew. I looked back out the window, but it was all dark now, just shadowy shapes of the forest and countryside barely illuminated by a half-moon. How the hell did I get here?

"It’s quite normal you know,” William went on, wearing an almost sympathetic expression. “To feel…well…out of sorts. I was gobsmacked my first year away from home. It passes…eventually."

"Yeah."

"But you’re much better off, see.” He continued, seeing his encouragement hadn’t taken hold. “I was just an 8 year-old prat and you’ll be the cool American boy.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at that. “Really?"

"Oh, surely. Everyone loves a foreign accent.” He said, with just a hint of resentment. “The girls especially."

"Oh, goodie."

"Sarcasm again?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or are girls not your…preference? No judgements of course, only asking-"

"No,” I laughed. “It’s not that, just…taking a break from relationships right now."

"Ah, heart on the mend?"

Was there ever a time it wasn’t? "You could say that."

"Well, the Academy will be a good distraction, then. Plenty to do.” When I didn’t answer, he went on. “Truly, it’s not so bad. You’ll see."

"I’ll take your word for it.” I forced the slightest grin. “Thanks."

He nodded, satisfied that his work was done and his charge wouldn’t be jumping off the train at the next stop. I still wasn’t so sure, though. But I was too late as usual, the next stop was ours and we emerged into the night, one upstanding student and his weird, foreign roommate with the squeaky suitcase following after him.

"It’s not usually so deserted.” He said, motioning at the empty platform. “But we are quite late.” He sniffed and went ahead of me. “The car is just over here. Not mine, of course, we’re not allowed. The school lent it to me for this errand especially."

"Good to know.” I muttered, following him to a black car parked along the road and trying to light a cigarette at the same time.

“Must you?” William said, waving the smoke away from him. I nodded, cigarette puffing between my lips.

“I must."

"Not in the car, you won’t.” He said, opening the trunk. He took my suitcase from me and hefted it in somewhat easily. “That was lighter than it looked."

"Yeah, don’t have much.” I said, exhaling smoke toward the sky.

“Always best to pack on the light side, I find. Hurry now, it’s getting chilly.” He rubbed his arms.

“Alright, alright.” I put my cigarette out barely half smoked and went for the car door.

“Oh no, you’re not driving!"

I looked down at the passenger’s side to see the steering wheel and gearshift. "Just getting the door for you.” He went past me with a sniff and sat down. I went around and got in on the other side.

“You didn’t realize this was the driver’s side, did you?” William said as he started the car, with the air of someone solving a mystery.

“You got me."

"Ah, see we are starting to communicate.” And with that remark we were off, winding by the light of two headlights and a half moon through green hills, along tree lined roads, passed a sleeping cobblestoned village, the only lights coming from houses nestled in the distance. William was going on about the town, something about its history, but I could barely hear him - I was too busy thinking about how Angela must be passed out at some party right now, and my mom was probably celebrating with Cliff and here I was in another dimension. Then suddenly we were turning and passing under an arched gateway that read The Academy in wrought-iron letters.

“Here we are.” William was saying, following the tree-lined driveway up to what could only be the Academy itself. It was just like the brochures, only now it was real and towered three-stories over me in pale stone, sprawling to the left and right so far I almost couldn’t see where it ended.

“Wow,” I sighed. Yeah, this place was gonna spit me out the second I walked inside. Maybe I should just fuck off right now, steal the car-

“Coming?” William knocked on my window, already out of the car, my suitcase in hand. I pushed the door open. “We have to leave the car here and walk, but it’s not terribly far. The tour will have to wait until tomorrow, seeing as it’s dark now.”  

I didn’t miss the note of resentment, like it was my fault it was so late, which I guess it was. I was already ruining things and it wasn’t even my first day yet…but there was no choice now. Maybe I could sneak away in the night, I thought as I followed him. I should just go and live in the woods, at least there was nothing there to remind me what a fuck up I was…and always would be.

“…Bright House just there.” William was saying. “And this up ahead, is Beckett, our house.” He motioned toward a miniature of the Academy, backdropped by the dark forest. I followed him up a manicured lawn, lined with neatly planted flowers. “The boys are probably off at dinner by now,” He said as he pushed through the door into the quiet house. “Or nipped down to the pub more likely, but you’ll meet them before long. If you hurry we might catch the tail end or you could make supper here, I suppose,” He motioned vaguely toward the kitchen as we passed by it. “But no one ever does, so I’m not sure what you’ll find in the cupboards."

"It’s ok, not hungry.” I muttered, following him up the stairs.

“Well, I’m famished,” he said, pushing through a door that could only lead to our room. “Here it is.” He waved to the room as he flicked on a light. Two beds, two nightstands, two dressers and two desks, mirroring each other on opposite sides of the room. “Your bed, there.” He nodded toward the bed with nothing on it. His was stacked neatly with clothes, as though he’d been about to put them away and then been called away on some errand. His desk had books piled high and mine had nothing, and still wouldn’t even when I unpacked. “You sure you don’t want to come? You’ll need to change into your uniform first, but I can wait. The toilet is just there.” He nodded toward a door on my side of the room.

“It’s ok, you go ahead.” I think I’ll eat a cigarette for dinner.

“Well, you get unpacked and perhaps I’ll bring you back something to eat?"

"Sure, thanks.” I wasn’t sure what I’d done to garner the pity of this kid but I was sure it wouldn’t last long. Still, it was nice to have someone be friendly, even if I didn’t deserve it.

When he was gone I stared around the room like an idiot, trying to figure out what to do. It was hard to move at all, felt like somebody filled me in with lead. Finally I pushed myself to my feet and wandered in a little circle, opening empty drawers. I threw my suitcase open and dumped my clothes into the dresser, which took up all of one drawer. I threw my phone and walkman in the nightstand. I thought about checking to see if I had any missed calls, but I couldn’t stand to look, to find out no one cared at all. So I crept through the silent house instead, wandered out a back door and smoked two cigarettes in a row, staring up at the moon. At least one thing hadn’t changed. I stared into the dark forest, wondering where it led, thinking about wandering into it but then I heard laughing and realized they must be coming back, so I snuck up to my room before anyone could see me. I wasn’t ready to meet anybody, to see the looks on their faces when they realized what I already knew - I didn’t belong here.

William came back sometime later, but I pretended to be asleep and he was quiet as a mouse as he finished unpacking and went to bed himself. When he started to snore I turned over and stared up at the ceiling. The moonlight was coming in through the window, so I could see the little cracks in the ceiling, forming strange pictures in my head like looking up at the clouds. I didn’t feel tired, just empty…but still heavy somehow, knowing how all this was gonna play out, knowing the only way out was through. But, just like with everything in my life, there was nothing I could do about it. I was stuck watching the wreck happen from behind glass, could scream and yell and try to stop it but it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. So I just listened to the strange house settle, wishing for sleep, waiting for the pieces to start falling.

Tag List:

@danielleslayer @thel3tterm @literate-libby @thewriteblrarchives @writeblrconnections @lottieiswriting

[girl-next-door-writes]

Miss Me?

Characters: Gabe x Reader

Summary: Coping with the loss of your favourite angel was much harder than you had ever imagined but when you start to get some weird text messages the need to have your best friend there with you is painful.

Word Count: 768 words

Prompt: THIS GIF

A/N: This is for my 800 followers celebration as requested by the wonderful @thewhiterabbit42 who sent me this gif that I’ve had to sit and watch it for hours on end to get inspiration.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  For inspiration reasons.

 It had been just over a year since Gabriel had sacrificed himself for you all. Thirteen months of being numb, half expecting the idiot angel to appear behind you and ask if you’d missed him. You hadn’t baked since that day, couldn’t stomach any sweet treats that reminded you of the trickster who had stolen your heart.  You hadn’t even had the chance to tell him that.  

Sitting in the library reading some ancient tome you looked up as your phone vibrated.  It wasn’t a number you recognised and curiosity had you opening the new message. It was an arty photo of some chocolate muffins.  Raising an eyebrow you closed the message figuring it must just be some weird advertisement.  Tossing your phone back onto the table you continued to read, occasionally looking at your cell.  There was something not right, something nagging at you.  

Putting the feeling to the back of your mind you slid your phone into your pocket and headed to the kitchen.  You were glad the boys were on their way back and you were waiting on an ETA from Sam so you could co-ordinate food so when there was a vibration in your pocket you opened the message to see a picture of a takeout bag with your name scrawled on in sharpie.  Letting out a little squeal you figured the boys must be close if they were bringing food for you.  You were half way through replying when you realised the message wasn’t from Sam but the chocolate muffin number.  Blinking rapidly at your phone you frowned as a cold shiver ran down your spine.  

Your hands were shaking as you dialed Sams number only to get his voicemail.  Trying Deans you knew he would be driving but there was always a chance he would respond.  Sadly today was not your day.  Tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter as the kettle boiled you wracked your brain trying to figure out what was going on.  The muffin picture was weird but the second picture had your name on it, whoever this was knew it was you they were messaging.  You didn’t like it.  Torn between sending a message asking who it was and ignoring it you made yourself a drink and decided to talk to Sam about it as soon as he got back.  

Curled up on the sofa watching some old lifetime movie your mind was running a million miles a minute and when your phone went off again you frowned at it for a full five minutes before daring to pick it up.  Cautiously you opened it up only to drop it when you saw the latest message.  Taking a ragged breath it was as if someone had just ripped your heart out all over again and tears began to pour down your cheeks as you shook uncontrollably.  It couldn’t be real, must be someone’s sick idea of a joke.  On your screen was a brief video or something you knew was fake.  Gabriel sitting in the Impala pulling that stupid face he always did to make you smile with that ridiculous head wobble with Sam slumped in the back.  This was just painful.  Whoever was doing this was just cruel.  Hearing the roar of the Impala entering the garage you sprang up and sprinted to find your best friend.  In that moment you needed Sam, knowing he would figure all this out.

Bursting through the door you froze, the only movement was the tears still streaming from your eyes and the slight wobble of your lower lip.  Gasping in a ragged breath you felt your knees give out and a pair of familiar strong arms were around you in seconds, holding you up. Looking over your saviours shoulder at Sam and Dean grinning you knew that this was happening, he was really here. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close you took a deep breath and took in that scent that always made you feel like you had come home.  “Miss me sugar?” you could never convey just how much you had wanted to hear that cocky drawl over the past year.  You couldn’t speak, you just held him tight and sobbed still trying to take it all in.  Gabriel looked over his shoulder at the Winchesters, a little unsure about your reaction.  

“I don’t think she’s gonna be letting you go any time soon.” Sam chuckled as he walked past the pair of you, his bag over his shoulder.

“Works for me.” He murmured into your hair with a smile.  Nowhere he would rather be.

Tag: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @nea90sweetie @knittingknerdy@feelmyroarrrr @vintagevalentinexx @goody2shoessmut @cojootromuelle@palaiasaurus64 @littleblue5mcdork @littlenerdgirl16 @thewhiterabbit42 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @sumara62 @captainemwinchester