#i love that everyone at one point in time has worn a pair of baggy plaid shorts (is it the same pair they're sharing idk???)

[iamonlyhereforthefreefood]

I make fun of how badly everyone in Pearl Jam dresses but honestly as someone with no fashion sense either I respect it. 

[hrina]

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hello Atlas! I see you write x Male Reader! And Trans Reader!

I would LOVE to see some Spencer Reid or Aaron Hotchner with a Male or Trans Reader (your pick <3)! Maybe something fluffy, like spending time to relax and destress after a super bad day during a case? Sharing a room in the hotel and reminding each other that even on the worst days, things will be okay again <3

So I’m not sure if it’s that fluffy? I tried lol so I’m hoping you like it! Hotch is probably out of character so sorry about that eheh. Also idk if the ending is any good or if I like it but I’ve reread it so much my brain has gone to mush so I’ve decided to just post it lol. So I hope you like it, hopefully it isn’t too dreadful!

Warnings: mentions of a difficult case surrounding children, mentions of Foyet, none others that I can think of (let me know if I’ve missed anything!)

Word Count: 1168

It wasn’t often Aaron let people see his emotions. He preferred to hide behind a facade, a mask. Where people couldn’t read his emotion, he’d rather seem stoic and angry than vulnerable. There was something about vulnerability that made Aaron feel wrong. Most of the time anyway. He let himself be vulnerable with you.

“Alright, we aren’t going to get anything more done tonight,” Rossi said, “None of us have slept since we got this case.”

Hotch looked at the file, not wanting to leave. He gave a small sigh, he knew Dave was right, “Alright, let’s go back to the hotel to get a good night's sleep and pick up where we’ve left off in the morning,”

Everyone gave a nod before beginning to pack their stuff up, ready to head back to the hotel, more than happy to get some sleep. You do so reluctantly, knowing the likelihood of a decent night’s sleep was unlikely for both you and Aaron. Kid cases always hit the team hard. Hotch in particular, you knew it reminded him of what could have happened to Jack with Foyet. You also knew that he desperately tried to hide it from the team.

When you all piled into the SUVs Rossi let you sit in the front, you gently placed your hand on Aaron's, giving it a small squeeze before moving to place your hand back into your lap. You didn’t want to push it and make him uncomfortable in front of some of the team. Aaron’s hand caught your wrist gently, settling it on his thigh. He clearly needed the comfort that your touch brought him. You knew the others in the car saw it, it was a bit hard to miss. No one commented on it though. Besides, you were eighty percent sure you could feel Rossi’s smirk from the back seat.

The ride to the hotel was silent, Hotch pulling up at the same time as Morgan, parking next to each other. Everyone was too tired to speak, they simply made their way to their hotel rooms. The hotel itself wasn’t too bad, it wasn’t the worst place they’d stayed in, although it wasn’t the nicest place either.

You and Hotch were sharing a hotel room, the team pretty much knew the two of you were a thing - you hadn’t formally said anything, but you didn’t do much to hide it either. They had very apologetically explained that two of you would have to share a room - something about a local market that drew in people from surrounding towns (you hadn’t been paying much attention). So the room kind of went to the two of you as default. Not that either of you were complaining.

Hotch stayed at the back of the group, rather than the front where he would usually walk, he wanted some time to think, to ease his mind. To try his best to forget the horrors of the case for the rest of the night. Ensuring to walk at his pace, you softly intertwined your fingers. You all said a brief goodnight to everyone before walking into your rooms, promising to meet at seven for breakfast the next day.

You gently took the briefcase out of Hotch’s hand, putting it at the end of his bed. “Aaron,” You said softly, gaining his attention. “Go have a shower, get into something comfortable, alright?” Aaron gave a soft nod, gathering his pajamas before heading into the bathroom. He was exhausted, running himself into the ground for the past two days. You have no idea how he was still walking around.

You flicked the kettle on, rummaging through your bag you pull out two mugs and some tea bags (as well as some sugar) and make two cups of tea. You make the tea to both your and Hotch’s liking before placing it on the bedside table in between your beds. Hopefully it would help him relax. Cases involved with children hit everyone hard, including yourself. But, you didn't mind putting your feelings on the back burner to help Aaron.

A few minutes later, Hotch stumbled out of the bathroom, still towel drying his hair, a pair of loose pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt. You gave Aaron a small smile as he sat on his bed. “I’ve made some tea,” You said, “I’m just going to have a shower and then we can relax, alright?”

You grabbed your pajamas before heading into the bathroom. You showered quickly before drying yourself off and slipping into your pajamas (spiderman themed) before walking out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Ignoring the way water dripped from your hair, narrowly missing your eyes, you walked over to Aaron, sitting beside him. “How are you feeling?”

“Worn down,” Aaron answered quietly, reaching for the tea and taking a small sip to test the temperature.

“You work too hard and don’t give yourself enough breaks,” You said warmly, gently rubbing your hand up his arm. Leaning into the touch, Aaron gave a half smile.

“You’re a very caring man, (Y/N),” He hummed, you shot him a grin kissing his cheek.

"Aren't you lucky?" You chuckled. "Tell me what's going on in the head of yours,"

"He's killed so many children... I can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough," Aaron mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. You take his hand, pressing a small kiss on his palm, holding it lightly in your grip after.

"Hey, you can't run yourself into the ground," You said, "You'll make yourself ill. Then you won't be able to help anyone,"

“I know,” Aaron sighed, “But I feel like I should be doing more,”

“You always give all you can,” You pointed out, “You can’t do much more than that,” 

Aaron smiled, taking a sip of his tea and gave a small hum, “You make a very good cup of tea,”

“Why thank you,” You grabbed the remote, turning the TV on before laying down on the bed. “What do you want to watch? Take your mind off of things,”

“I’m not bothered,” He said with a shrug, lowering himself down beside you.

“Hmm, how about Friends?” You suggested, “That’s always a good comfort show,” Aaron nodded.

“Sounds good,”

“Great,” You replied, selecting it before putting the remote down. “Come on,” You open your arms out, motioning with your hands for Aaron to come closer.

“What?” Aaron asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I want to cuddle, get over here,” You laughed, Aaron rolled his eyes but did so. Smiling to yourself, you press Aaron’s back tighter to your chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Aaron mumbled, “So much,” Turning and placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch the unsub,” You reassured. “Let’s get some sleep,”

Soon enough, friends faded out into the background as you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s embrace.

[lilyharvord]

Meet Me at Our Spot

  HELLO EVERYONE!! Vet school turned its back for a day and I was able to finish this one for you all. ((: Here is a lovely little one shot that is rated M people, so please read responsibly. Office AU because someone asked for it once upon a time and the image of Cal in one of those well tailored shirts/suits with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows has lived in my head rent free since then. So enjoy!!! ((: 

also, I’m obsessed with that song Meet Me at Our Spot by Willow and The Anxiety (specifically the live version). So that’s the vibe were going for. (:

find it on Ao3 too: link

Mare Barrow always felt underdressed when she entered the massive glass and steel structure that housed the Calore enterprises. Even when she put on her only pair on heels, and a nice outfit, she felt like a smudge of dirt on the pristine floors. Today though, she was determined to not feel that way. She had a plan, a vision, and she was not about to let some socially constructed idea like dress code ruin it for her.

           Striding up to the main desk before the elevators that lead to the corporate side of the building, she planted herself firmly before Tiria and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

           The young woman looked up from the book she was scribbling things in and held up a finger as she spoke into the receiver cradled in her other hand.

“Of course sir. Yes, two on Friday.”

With a sigh, Mare braced her forearms on the counter and glanced out at the massive atrium next to her. Multiple people strolled by in their nice suits and tight business dresses, carrying portfolios and briefcases and talking heatedly about a number of things. She got a few looks from them for her baggy sweatpants, oversized jacket, and faded ugly sneakers. She simply smirked back at them in response, a glint in her eye that dared them to talk about her after they had passed.

No one had ever really gotten a good look at her here, and if they had, it was when she was quickly being ushered past this front desk and into the elevators behind it. She was, for all intents and purposes, a very well-kept secret. One that was mandatory to remain a secret, given her position and her affiliation with this place.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would ever set foot in a place like this, let alone be associated with the circle she now tenuously walked through. It had its perks though, like getting to give a bright shiny middle finger smile to the people Farley would have spit at. Mare couldn’t exactly spit like she wanted to though, because she happened to enjoy being around one of them. And she was supposed to be on her best behavior when she was in this building. It was part of the stupid rules she had been forced to agree to a year ago.

Rule number one: No one can know your name, where you are from, and who you are.

Rule Number two: best behavior at all times when you are in the building or near him. No exceptions.

Rule number three: You are not allowed to show up unannounced or uninvited.

           Well rule number three could just go fuck itself today, and rule number two could join it. The rules were just a way of making sure that the pristine reputation of this place didn’t get tarnished in the tabloids. She had laughed herself hoarse when they brought her into that dim conference room and dropped the pile of papers with the rules outlining everything in front of her. She never thought getting into a relationship would feel like a contract or a business deal but somehow this was made into one. Then again, the Calore family could make a business deal out of a child’s pretend game.

“Yes sir, I will let them know. Thank you for confirming, we will see you then.”

Tiria snapped the receiver back into the cradle and turning a scrutinizing eye to Mare she quirked a perfectly manicured brow. Every front desk girl in the world honestly looked the same to Mare, and in this place, there was no exceptions.

“Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” Mare said as she pressed onto her toes and pointed with a finger randomly into Tiria’s book.

The girl looked down at the line Mare pointed to with a frown while Mare swiped the key card Tiria always kept just under the ledge with her other hand. Tucking it into her pocket, she forced her eyes wide in a fake showing of bewilderment as Tiria gave her a contempt glare when there was nothing on the line.

“I could have sworn I called!” Mare gasped as she pressed herself up onto the counter to teeter further over it while her feet dangled. Damn these stupid things were high. She should have worn heels just so she could actually see over the top of the counter. “Maybe I should have called to confirm.”

“Miss Barrow, please stay on that side of the counter.” Tiria sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

Sliding down and dropping with a huff, Mare crossed her arms, trying to mimic the expression she saw most of these people give when they didn’t get what they wanted. “I want to go up.”

           Forcing her sigh through her nose so it wasn’t as obvious, Tiria shook her head and adjusted a pen that had moved out of its perfectly straight line. “You’re not supposed to be here today. Don’t make me call security.”

           “Well that would announce my presence.” Mare argued before picking up her backpack. “Besides, I’ll only be ten minutes.”

           “Miss Barrow, I like my job and want to keep it. Leave.”

           Letting out her own exaggerated sigh, Mare threw her hands up and spun on her heel to leave. “Honestly, you’d think I’d get a free pass giving who I’m dating in this place.”

           Peeking over her shoulder to see if Tiria was still paying attention, she smirked as the girl dropped her head to write something down. One of the benefits of everyone looking down on her here was that as soon as she turned around, she was out of sight and out of mind. It made sneaking around easier.

           Spinning back around, she scurried over to the elevators, ducking below the ledge of the counter slightly in case Tiria looked up again. Humming a song she heard on the radio to herself, she swiped the card and pushed the button to call the elevator. She had joked once this place was locked up tighter than a military institution, only to learn there was a reason for that. She doubted she could just swipe a key card and sneak into the Pentagon though.

           The doors opened with a little ding, and she glanced over her shoulder once before darting in and pressing the button for the top floor. She had to swipe the key card again and punch in a four digit code she memorized weeks ago, but the doors still slid shut and the massive glass box rose.

           Grinning like a fiend, Mare glanced over her shoulder at the green land stretching out behind her. She had to borrow Bree’s car to drive out to this place, and it almost didn’t make it. Her brother’s check engine light had been on since he bought the car, but he assured her it could make it the fifty mile trip and back. It had coughed the whole way, but it got her here. Beyond the trees she could just make out the highway she took with cars rushing along it.

           The first time she saw this place, she was afraid of it. Why was it so far away from everything, why was it so tucked away? What were they trying to hide behind the wall of trees? She hadn’t entire believed the excuses they gave, but she was at least certain they weren’t building nuclear weapons at this place.

           The doors slid open silently to a long hallway with dark floors and another bank of windows for a wall. Stepping out into the sunshine, Mare strolled forward, adjusting her hair and jacket as she went. Turning a corner, she passed a few smaller offices that belonged to some of the board members that held staff positions. The only one that was closed belonged to one of the only people she really, really didn’t want to see.

           Volo Samos made her nervous. If there was anyone who might be trying to make a nuclear weapon in this place, it was that man. She edged by his office, glancing through the swaying vertical shades to see if he was actually there or he had left for lunch. He was sitting at his desk on the phone.

Scurrying past him, Mare quickened her pace. If he was here, then the rest of the board might be too. Which meant she might be walking in on a meeting. Not exactly the best option, and neither was sitting outside in the hall and waiting.

           She had been so certain that there was nothing happening this week. She had planned everything around that fact. Maybe she should have called… just to make sure before she drove all the way out here.

           Before she knew it though, she was standing before the heavy dark wood doors at the end of that hall. She had never been nervous to open them. They were intimidating with an exterior that was meant to deter people, but once you opened them and peeked inside there was nothing to fear, just like with the man behind them. She knew that, and yet, she had to squash the shake in her hand as she nudge the door open a fraction.

           The office was empty.

           Throwing the door open all the way, she stepped inside and glanced awkwardly around the space. She had spent enough time in here that she knew there were very few places to hide. Not that Cal would have any reason to hide in his own office. Pursing her lips she pushed the door closed and stormed over to the desk before throwing her bag down behind it and tossing herself into the chair. It spun in a slow circle with her momentum until she faced the back windows. Slouching down she tried to determine her next move with a pout. Maybe he had left for lunch. It wouldn’t surprise her. If the board members were here, then he might have had to play the good CEO and daddy’s boy he was supposed to be and taken them all to lunch to placate them. But Volo was here… so maybe they hadn’t gone to lunch?

           She had put makeup on for this surprise. Honestly, was it so hard for him to be in the place he was supposed to be at this time?

           Forcing out a sigh, she crossed her arms and spun the chair back around with her toes to look at the papers scattered around the desk. Cal was perhaps one of the most messily organized people she had ever met. He was an oxymoron himself though, so it only made sense. She picked up a thick stack of papers that were clipped together and lifted one of the corners between her finger and thumb like it was radioactive. She didn’t understand a word on the next page or the numbers scribbled in the margins. Putting it back in its place she glanced at the few pictures he kept on his desk.

           The first time she had been in his office he had been on a phone call, and she had to entertain herself. She had picked up the pictures and made up the stories behind them while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The picture of the two little boys crouched and playing in the mud on the edge of a lake was her favorite. She had been confused by it at first, until she saw the one next to it, with the same two boys almost a decade later in front of the Roman Coliseum.

Cal and his brother vaguely looked like brothers. They had similar features, but they wore them very differently. Where Cal was tall and broad, his younger brother was lean and sharp. Their eyes were strikingly different, but it was to be expected. She’d met Maven twice in the year she’d dated Cal. The first time was when he flew home for their father’s retirement party. He’d been quiet and reserved the whole evening until Cal dragged him out for a drink with her after to introduce them, properly as Cal had teased. When the brothers were alone and not around their father, they were different people. Maven especially. He seemed to soften, to melt a little bit. It had surprised her that someone could be so different just because the personnel around them changed. But Maven was a master of it.

The second time she’d seen him, Cal dragged her halfway across the world to Scotland to surprise Maven on his birthday. Cal’s brother lived as far from their father as possible, and honestly, Mare didn’t blame him. Unfortunately, Cal wasn’t afforded that luxury. Hence the rule book she had to follow.

           He had a picture with his uncle next to that. The man was a few years younger than her father, but he caried those years poorly. Still, he adored Mare,  and she didn’t have to pretend to tolerate him, unlike most of the other people that surrounded Cal at a given time.

A picture with his father was next to that one. It was a close second favorite of Mare’s. She couldn’t stand his father, the man was insufferable, but she loved to look at the younger version of Cal. He looked impossibly different as a kid, so different she almost hadn’t recognized him in the picture. She had told him that he reminded her of a taffy piece that was pulled too long in that picture. He was only ten in it, but his legs were already too long for him, and he was thin as a pole. He certainly had grown into his body, but the smile he gave to the camera there… he only gave it to her now. Or at least, she thought he did. She’d never seen him smile that brightly at anyone else.

           Next to that, tucked almost behind the other pictures was a photograph of a young woman in a window box with a toddler resting on her legs. She smiled at him, clutching his hands in hers, completely unaware of the camera trained on her. Cal didn’t talk about it, or the woman in it, but Mare wormed it out of Julian that Cal’s mother was a sore subject with everyone. Even though she was smiling in the picture, Mare could almost sense the sadness that radiated from her. She didn’t look much older than Mare in that picture. No doubt she had been tied up with the same strings and restrictions Mare faced now. If that were the case, Mare wasn’t surprised she had been so sad. The rules and regulations that came with dating a powerful person were like a cage. It worried Mare some days. She didn’t like being confined, but when she was with Cal away from all of this, she didn’t feel that way. It was only when they were together around other people that she did. More oxymorons where the man was concerned.

           The door into the office opened and Mare snapped to attention as Cal stepped in. His hands were full with papers he shuffled through while balancing his phone on his shoulder and speaking with someone. He’d nudged the door open with his hip and because of that, he had yet to turn and face her.

           Even though she hated all the restrictions she had to face while she dated him, she knew they didn’t truly bother her because he was hers. All of him carefully folded into a suit that hugged every muscle made her stomach tighten and other parts flutter. And all of it was hers, some nobody from a backwater city block. She sometimes felt like a tiny dragon hording a single coin when she was with him. She didn’t have much to her name, never had and probably never would, but he was hers. She wasn’t sure if she would get to keep him, but she planned to enjoy every last second that she could with him.

           Her lips curled into a smile as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her leg over the other, trying to paint a picture of coyness. It was probably not the best showing of it, but Cal was a miserable good boy who couldn’t handle anything remotely teasing.

           The papers ended up on the other side of the desk from her, while he shifted to hold the phone and rest his other fist on the table. The muscle in his jaw that always twitched when he was irritated fluttered like a bird’s wing now. He pressed his fingers into his closed eyes as if he could force whatever headache was probably there away with just that touch.

           “We didn’t agree to that when we signed the papers. They can’t come back and impose that restriction on us now.”            She squirmed in the chair at the tone in his voice. There were multiple sides to Cal that she had seen. There was her Cal, who had no idea how to dance, and who blushed whenever she teased him. Then there was the Cal she sometimes got at one in the morning who would grab the inside of her leg while he whispered in her ear exactly what he was going to do. Then there was this Cal. The one who had been heir to an empire company since the day he was born, and who could command a room like it was any other Tuesday. Sometimes it was hot to watch him do it. Right now though, it was the opposite. He wasn’t happy with something, and it honestly sounded like the last thing he needed was her here.

           She decided she definitely should have called before coming.

           Edging the chair back with her toes, it squeaked as it went over the floor, and his eyes darted up to her before widening.

           With an awkward smile, she wiggled her fingers in greeting before spinning the chair to face the back windows. Her cheeks were burning, and there were other parts that had melted to a very dangerous temperature. The look he gave her as he looked up at been fleeting, but it had been enough to put her on the teetering edge of deciding to grab him and pin him to the desk, or ask him to do just that with her.

           “Deal with this. Don’t call back until you have.”

           The silence following his words told her, that she was now the singular focus of his attention. His gaze was like a brand even through the leather of the chair. Crossing her arms and adjusting her posture accordingly, she went to spin the chair back around. He beat her to it though, spinning it to face him and tipping it back slightly so she had an easier time looking up at him.

           “I don’t believe I left anything at the apartment.”

           “You left me.” Mare pouted with a withering stare in his direction.

           “Very funny. Now how did you even get up here?”

           With a smirk, Mare fished the ID card out of her pocket and flashed it before him proudly. He snatched it from her hand with a startled gasp.

           “Mare… what the… what are you a thief now?”

           “Obviously.” She waved her hand to dismiss his comment before gesturing to the card. “You should really get lanyards to put those on by the way. I just kinda grabbed that off her desk. And if I got it anyone else could have—”  

           “You can’t go around stealing people’s ID cards. She needs this to get around the building.” He gestured at her with it, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

           “Well I needed it more in the moment.” Mare reasoned with a smile before leaning back in the chair. She didn’t really feel that bad, but the worry starting to etch itself into Cal’s brows did make her feel a little guilty.

           He tossed it unceremoniously onto the desk before sitting on the edge of it and massaging his face slowly with his hands.

“While I’m happy to see you, I don’t have time to deal with anything outside of work today.” His words were muffled by his palms but she could still hear every stressed syllable. Even when his work got stressful, which it undoubtably was at times, he still could push it aside whenever he saw her. Whatever he had been on the phone about had been serious, serious enough that he actually wasn’t all that happy to see her.

           “What happened?” Mare asked, scooting the chair close enough for her to set her hands on his thighs and squeeze gently. Now was not the time to be thinking about just how well that suit fit, but the thought still crossed her mind. Along with a few choice other thoughts.

           “Stupidity.”

           Cocking her head to the side, she waited for him to elaborate. It took him a moment, but he eventually dropped his hands and let his head fall back to look to the ceiling.

           “We signed papers on a deal a year ago. When that happens it’s done, the contract is sealed and stored away. In that contract, we agreed that should anything happen with a shipment, we were not liable. The group we shipped to doesn’t like that anymore, because a 30.5 million dollar shipment got lost.”

           Now it made sense to her. This wasn’t anger, or frustration. This was stress. Stress she could handle.

“How does one misplace 30.5 million dollars?” She teased before running hers hand up and down his legs.

“I don’t know. But there are five different parties all in a screaming match over it, including us. And if the other four don’t back down anytime soon, I’m going to have to find 30.5 million dollars somewhere.” His eyes darted down to her as she brushed her thumbs along the inside of his thighs. Glancing up through her lashes at him then, she tilted her head ever so slightly.

“And that is hard because?”

“Does it look like I have 30.5 million dollars lying around to just throw at someone?” He reasons, and the dips in his cadence brought a smirk to her lips. Now she had his attention. Pushing up to her feet she slid between his knees until she could drape her arms around his neck. Immediately, his hands found her hips and hugged her closer still.

“I’m sure there are one or two things you could sell in this building to cover that cost.” She ran her thumb along the back of his neck, before tracing the spot at the base of his jaw. His head tilted in the opposite direction, trying to escape the feather light touch. Both of them knew exactly what it did after all. Smirking at his reaction, Mare ran her other hand along his shoulder, tracing the contours she knew by heart.

“I bet I could pick out one of two things.”

“I don’t need to find the thirty and a half because it’s not our fault what happened.” He squeezed her hips, and even though she could see the fight in his eyes, it was quickly guttering. The tension in his shoulders was still more than she would have liked, but that tended to be where he kept most of it.

“So stressed out over something that isn’t even your fault.” She teased as she pressed her thumb into the knot closest to his neck. He tensed under her, but didn’t speak. At this point, his voice had already dropped an octave, and Mare had known him long enough now to know that when he went silent like this, he was trying to hide just how far she had pushed him. “Do you want help releasing some of that?”

“Not unless you can get up in front of five different boards and convince them otherwise.” She had to admire how even he kept his voice. It still wavered in a few places as he tried to remain composed under her scrutiny. Dropping her hands from around his shoulders to land on his thighs again, she squeezed hard enough to emphasize her next point.

“That sounds like a challenge.” Mare actually witnessed his pupils dilate as she dropped her voice an octave too. “You and I both know it’s not much of one. I can be very persuasive.”

“You’re gonna get us both in more trouble than I can get us out of.” He whispered to her, a tiny smile lifting the edges of his lips. The glint in his eye made her stomach flutter, especially as he started to finger the waistband of her pants. She didn’t want him to put his hands under it just yet though, she still had one surprise she wanted to save.

Pulling back to slip out of his arms, she dropped back into the chair with a proud smirk. “Then I see no reason to not walk me down there, call up these assholes, and have me deal with them.”

His hands grasped the air where she had been a second ago as his mind failed to register her abrupt disappearance. Frowning, he leaned forward to grab the arms of the chair and pull her close again. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched him look her over and hold for a little too long on her lips.

“I’d love to see them try and deal with you.”

Oh she was going to make him sweat so very much.

Grabbing his face and yanking it down to hers, she crushed her lips against his. He tasted like mint toothpaste, and he smelled like that cologne she bought him for Christmas. Gisa said it was cheap, but he’s smiled and thanked her for it anyway. And now he was wearing it. The very idea sent a thrill through her.

With a groan, he slid his hands along her legs and then underneath them to grab her ass and hike her out of her chair until she was flush against his chest. Her lips curled into a smile as she took his lower lip between her teeth and pulled hard enough to draw a sound from the back of his throat. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she tugged and whispered, “You get to deal with me first.”

His eyes opened, barely an inch from hers, and the look in them sent a shiver down her spine. When he looked at her like that, it drove her half mad every time. “Put me down and I’ll show you just how persuasive I can be.”

He set her down with exaggerated stillness, making sure to drag her body along his so she could feel every inch of him. Smirking at getting her way, Mare nudged him back until he was sitting on his desk. Bracing her hands on either side of him, she asked, “Which do you want first? Surprise one, or surprise two?”

His brow quirked, and he slid a hand around her waist to pull her between his legs. “I want you, just you.”

When his voice dropped that deep, it made it very difficult to stay focused on what she had planned. But she wanted to see him squirm, and if there was anything Mare Barrow was, it was persistent.

“Surprise number two it is.” She grinned like a cat with a mouse as she hooked his belt with a finger and trailed it along the waistband of his pants to the buckle. Humming to herself, she undid it, sliding it through each loop like a needle with thread. When it was fully out, she held it up with a wink. “Give me your wrists.”

Even in the heat of it all, his cheeks burned. Immediately he put his hands behind his back. Pouting at his movement, she lowered the belt. “It’s no fun if you don’t play along.”

“Can’t be restrained. I may have to get to my phone.”

“Then I’ll answer it and tell them you’re busy.” She teased before cupping the back of his neck and pulling him close to ghost her lips across his. He sighed, and the tension in his shoulders melted as she ran her hand along one side. She loved when he scrambled in these moments. Locked between a rock and hard place, he was like turtle on its back. If all she had to do to knock him down was insinuate like this, she would do it every night.

When he pulled away with narrowed eyes, she released a mock exasperated sigh and tossed the belt away. “Fine, next time.” Without giving him a moment of relief, she unbuttoned his pants and tugged to start sliding them off. “But since it’s my job to help you relieve stress, here’s what I’m going to do.”

He visibly swallowed, even as he helped her slide his pants off. Running her hands up his legs after she dropped them, Mare chewed on her lip. “If you can keep it together for longer than ten minutes, I will let you do me from behind.”

His eyes widened, shock pouring out of every pore of his body. She hated that position, and always refused it. It was the most degrading thing, she insisted. If a man was going to fuck her, he should look her in the eye while he did it. She may be trash from the other side of the tracks, but she knew her worth.

           “Ten?” He breathed, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall next to them.

           “Ten.” She confirmed before crouching down. “But it has to be ten. If you cheat, I’ll know because I will be keeping track of the time.”

           His mouth opened to refute before closing with a snap.  She could see him working it over, trying to determine whether or not she would play fair. She never really did, but this time she made a promise to herself that she would. Besides, she trusted him to at least make the whole experience entertaining.

           “Clock starts when I do.” She teased before tugging on the waistband of his boxers, making the elastic snap back. He tensed at the feeling, until she pulled them off too.

           Perhaps it was the fact that she had snuck up here, or maybe it was the fact that anyone—including one of the most prestigious board members—could walk in on them at any second, but the sight of him sent electricity along every nerve in her body.

           It was ten minutes. He wouldn’t make it to five, she told herself as she dragged her tongue along her lower lip. With that thought for reassurance, she gripped his thighs and closed her mouth over his cock. Immediately she felt the muscles in his legs tense, and his breathing hitched. She hummed, almost laughing at his reaction as he immediately grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pulled. She slid back an inch before diving back down, taking more than she had before. The groan he released was loud enough that she almost paused to make sure no one had heard. There was the fun in this, she supposed, getting caught might be exciting.

           “Mare.” He gasped as she continued her ministrations, and began to trail her nails along his skin up to his hips. Forcing her head down further, he muttered a breathless apology when she gagged. Digging her nails and fingers into his skin, she smiled and hummed again.

           “Fuck.” He spit the word like poison and bucked against her, earning another hum from her. “Not fair, that’s not fair.” He panted as she picked up the pace of her work.

           His finger dug into her scalp as he pulled even harder on her hair. She stayed on like a leach though, stifling a laugh at his squirming. His other hand gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white, and his legs tensed in time with each of her movements. But the stubborn bastard kept it together, and no matter what she tried in her arsenal, he only cursed and gripped that desk until she thought it might splinter.

           “Ten,” he crowed with a breathless laugh. “That’s ten.”

           Mare snapped away with a grunt, swiping her hand along her mouth, smearing the lip gloss across her cheek. Glowering up at him, she grumbled a curse word that would have made her mother slap her across the mouth. A deal was a deal.

           “Don’t look so bitter about it.” He teased, before cupping her face and lowering himself to capture her lips. His tongue darted along hers as his fingers gently pushed the hair he had pulled behind her ears.

           When she pulled away for air, her chest ached and the space between her legs ached even more. “I’ve got one more surprise for you.” She rose to her full height, and had the pleasure of seeing a bead of sweat roll down from his hairline. He had barely made it. If she was being honest, she would say that she hadn’t been keeping track of the time. She’d lost all of it to the feeling of his hips rocking and the tension of his muscles.

           Backing away a step, she winked at his confusion. “Remember a few weeks ago when I went to mall and made you go find something to do?” She fingered the zipper of her jacket, another bolt of electricity ran down her spine as he straightened up, completely attentive to her. “I was saving this for your birthday, but I got tired of waiting.”

As she went to unzip the jacket, he leaped, catching her hands almost knocking her over. Scrambling to stay on her feet, Mare let him take her whole weight as she gasped. “Fucking hell Cal—”

“Let me.” He smirked as he straightened her up and grabbed the zipper before she could. With a gentle tug, he unzipped it halfway, his eyes darkening again as he caught sight of the top half. She’d picked it carefully, the first time she’d ever done something like that honestly. Normally she grabbed things off the rack and hoped it matched. This though, she had taken her time selecting.

He had the jacket off in less than a heartbeat, and his fingers danced along the thin black lace of the corset. His eyes followed his hands as he searched the whole thing over, making her swallow in uncertainty. He trailed a knuckle along one of the many straps, his teeth obviously working at the inside of his cheek. Gently, he grabbed the waistband of her sweat pants and pulled them down as he dropped into a crouch before her. His eyes widened at the matching bottoms.

Immediately, his hands gripped the back of her legs as he glanced up at her. The weight of that stare could crush her if she didn’t realize that it was the most reverent of gazes. He looked at her like she had put the stars in the sky, and hung the moon too. It she was honest, she would admit that it might go to her head a little bit ans that the smile she gave him was mostly fed by that. She could bring this man to his knees by simply standing in a pair of lacy panties.

           “Where,” he voice cracked on the word, and his fingers dug into her hamstrings a little more before he dragged his lips up the inside of her bare thigh. “Where did you keep this?”

           Threading a hand through his hair, she exhaled in a sigh as his lips grazed the seam along the inside of her thigh. “You like it?”

           “I’ll like it better when it’s on the floor.” He murmured before sliding his hand up to grip her ass again. She almost yelped, and grabbing his shoulders she let out a breathless laugh as he pressed more kisses along the inside of her thigh.

           Standing up, he kept his hand on her as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and let him spin her around to the desk. With a quick sweep of his hand, he sent the papers all over it to the side before laying her down on it. With a tug, he dragged her back to the edge so she was still straddling him and braced his hands on either side of her head. She panted as she watched his lips curl into a hint of a smile.

           “Forget fucking you from behind.” He murmured, before lowering himself to trail his nose along her sternum. “I want to see every inch of you in this.”

           She grinned triumphantly as he slid a hand up her side to squeeze her breast, made far more generous with the help of the corset. It had been a good idea to listen to the pushy sales girl just because of that. “Good thing you don’t have to take it off.”

           His brow quirked in confusion, and sliding her hand down her body, she opened her legs a little wider to brush her fingers along herself. “Made sure it would be easy for you. Didn’t want you to feel intimidated by all the straps and buckles.”

           The snort he let out made her laugh, and she smiled as he stole the sound from her lips with a kiss. Rubbing his hips against hers, he lifted them off the table slightly until she was arched against him. Groaning when she felt how hard he was, she dug her nails into his arms, and said, “If I knew all it took to get you like this was wearing a pretty scrape of lace, I would buy sexier panties.”

           “I happen to like the panties you already own.” He teased before reaching between her legs for the bundle of nerves there. Rubbing in a tortuously slow circle, he grinned down at her as she craned her head back so her hair spilled across the desk. Grabbing onto the edge above she tried to grind against his palm, seeking further friction.

           Dropping his lips to her neck, he let his finger slide down to penetrate her. Groaning loud enough that she actually slapped her other hand over her mouth, Mare arched until her chest was smashed against his. He let out his own pleased sound at how wet he found her, and let her grind against his palm.

           “Can you last ten minutes?” He whispered in her ear before catching her earlobe with his teeth and pulling lightly. Mare twitched in response to the movement of his finger inside of her, whimpering when he pressed a kiss to the point where her pulse pounded in her neck. And although this was heavenly, she’d be damned if he won at this.

           Setting her jaw, she squeezed her legs together, earning a laugh from him as he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips. Sitting up quick enough to make herself dizzy, she grabbed his wrist to stop him from putting those fingers in his mouth. He froze as she closed her lips around his fingers and glanced up at him through her lashes. Releasing them with a pop, she watched his pupils dilate until they swallowed almost his entire iris.

           Smirking when a blush exploded across his cheeks and neck, she licked her lips and said, “You won’t even last that long.”

           Without speaking, he put a hand to her shoulder and slowly guided her back down to the desk as he stood over her. He pinned her hips down with his other hand as he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly and said, “I will take that as a challenge.”

           Mare’s heart fluttered in her chest at the tone of his voice, and how deep it had dropped. Keeping her breathing as level as possible, she closed her eyes as he traced a hand along her side and cupped her breast before leaving open mouthed kissed along the column of her throat.

“Cal,” she breathed his name in a gentle exhale as she threaded her fingers into his hair at the same time that he slipped his hand to her entrance again and pressed his palm against her.

           “Say my name like that again.” He whispered in her ear. “And I will do anything you want.”

           “Anything?” Her voice hitched as she ground against his palm, her eyes fluttering as she sought out the friction he denied her as he teasingly pulled away.

           His lips pulled up into a hint of a smile as he withdrew enough that she chased him with her lips. Their breath mixed as he rested his forehead against hers, and through her lightly fuzzy and crossed vision she could see the depths of his irises. Dark gold, and amber like honey. She could drown in them and be happy.

“Anything.” He answered her.

           Lowering herself back to the desk, she pulled him with her while her other hand threaded between them to grab his hip and pull him closer. Without breaking eye contact, he let her guide him to her entrance. With a sigh, she tipped her head back and locked her ankles behind his hips as he pulled her completely to the edge of the desk.

           “Cal.” She whispered as she grabbed the top of the desk again and squeezed her eyes shut.

           “That’s my girl.” He replied before putting a hand on her hip to keep her pinned to the desk and pulled out before pushing in deeper. Mare bucked against him, gasping as she clenched her thighs together around his hips, pulling him closer. Bracing his other hand next to her head, he dropped his chin as he moved in and out.            She only regretted doing this here for half a second, since she had to contain whatever sounds she made to minimal volumes. The last thing they needed was Volo Samos hearing something or coming to investigate what he was hearing. Although that might have been part of the thrill. If they were at her apartment, she could be as loud as she wanted, even with the window open. The traffic outside was loud enough to mask anything that happened in her shoebox apartment.

           “Harder.” She panted as she dragged her nails down the side of his nice shirt. She wanted to tear it off of him, to get to his skin underneath. He caught her hand before she could do just that, and pinning that hand above her head he obliged her. She half yelped, half gasped as she slid along the desk until her head almost dangled off the edge.

           Like a light switch flickering on and off, the light beyond her closed eyelids alternated with each meeting of their hips. She could feel the change in pace as he sensed her reaching her climax, and her lips curled into a pleased smile even as she arched slightly, hoping to escape him to last longer. He laughed softly at her attempt and pulled her toward him until she was dangling off the desk and had to grab on or risk falling to the floor. He caught her, but she still gasped as the change in angle pushed her completely over the edge so she shattered like glass. Every muscle in her legs contracted and her chest hitched on the rapid inhale she took. Curling around him as much as she could in her position, she stifled any other sound that wanted to come out.

           The best part? She knew she had lasted longer than ten minutes. The worst part? She wanted him again. And there was no way that was going to happen because as she sat there panting after he put her back on the desk and bent over to kiss her lightly, she heard the subtle ringing from a cell phone.

           “You’re getting a call.” She panted in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. It was damp now, and his chest pushed into hers with every inhale he took around his rapid heartbeat.

           “It can wait.” He murmured in reply before pressing a kiss against her jaw again.

           “I thought thirty and a half million dollars meant a lot right now.” She laughed as she traced a finger down the column of his spine from his neck to the middle of his back. He turned the full force of his gaze on her and she almost melted into a puddle in the heat of it.

           “You’re worth more than that. More than any deal, any job.” He kissed the tip of her nose. It kept her from turning away to hide the blush that exploded across her cheeks. He traced a thumb along it, and smiling at her he continued, “Who’s blushing now?”

           With an amused roll of her eyes, she traced a finger along his jaw in response to his light touches. This close to him, she realized he was beautiful, in the same way a marble statue in a museum was. She used to think he belonged in places like that, surrounded by priceless and irreplaceable objects that everyone paid to see.

           “I love you.” She tilted her head to the side, testing the phrase again. It was only the third or fourth time she had used it seriously with him. The weight of it settled over him, and he brought her fingers to his lips to press a kiss to them.

           “I love you.” He dropped the hand and pulled her into a sitting position so she could drop her legs from around his waist. Still connected with him, she trailed her fingers along his arms and drank her fill of him with her eyes. A part of her knew that someday she would lose him. Nothing in her life was ever truly hers and he luck had always been rotten, it was why she never bought a lottery ticket. And of course, his father did not like her. He wanted her gone because he saw her as an obstacle, or a hurdle his son would trip over. It took everything to not dig her fingers into Cal’s arm when they were around his father. Maybe if she did so, she could tattoo herself onto him and never lose him.

           “What are you thinking so deeply about?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pressed another kiss to the tip of her nose.

           “Nothing important.” She lied effortlessly, the smile she conjured for him almost real. If he saw through it he didn’t comment. The phone rang again from its sad position on the floor where it had ended up, and this time they both looked at it. The screen was lit up and he grimaced at the number showing on it.

           “I think you have to take that one.” Mare whispered before pressing a kiss to his cheek and sliding away from him to hop off the desk. He managed to catch her, and bring her to his chest before she could escape. Closing her eyes, she let herself melt against him for a second, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the smell of her that was now on him.

           When he pulled away to grab the phone off the floor and his pants from their pile near it, she sank back into the chair and watched his back as he finally answered the call. Whatever he was saying was like a buzz against her ears. She could only see him right then: the man he was, and the one he could become. She hated what he was in a small part of herself. But he wasn’t… he wasn’t like the other people he had spent most of his life around. And neither was his brother. Maybe that’s what that life did to people like them. Pushed them so hard that they turned out the opposite of their parents.

           He glanced at her with a smile as he managed to step into his pants with one hand and pull them up. She conjured up another smile for him and stood to fix his hair. He leaned down far enough that she could do that while he went about stringing his belt back into his pants. She trailed her fingers along his chest and down to the buckle and wrestled his fingers from it to clasp it shut herself.

           By the time she had finished he was done with the call, and was sitting in silence watching her work. She glanced up at him through her lashes, but he cupped the back of her head so she tipped her head back completely to him. His thumb rubbed a soothing rhythm along the back of her skull as he whispered, “I have to go. They found a solution.”

           She nodded. “So I guess you don’t have to bring out the big guns and put me in front of them.” Her smile was easy even as she prepared to pull away from him again. He held her steady, staring into her eyes for a long moment.

Just after the silence had stretched too far, he whispered, “Thank you.”

           “For what?” She managed to disentangle herself from him, and turned to gather her clothes. If he was leaving she needed to disappear too. They couldn’t leave together though, or people might notice. And she did not need it getting back to his father that she had broken any of those stupid rules. Then she might as well consider this the last time she ever saw him. What a last time it would be though. It would live with her for the remainder of what she had heard his father call a measly insignificant little life.

           “Everything. You… you make me impossibly happy Mare.” He threaded an arm around her waist before pulling her back against his chest and laying a kiss on top of her head. She finally melted completely into his arms. Wrapping his forearms with hers to trap him for a moment longer she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn’t care about the rules she had agreed to. Rules were meant to be broken, and she had always excelled at doing just that. With him, she would break every rule and scatter the ashes of them to the wind.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Cutie Pie | Sweet Pea

Hey Lovelies! Still updating from my Wattpad! Today’s feature: Sweet Pea! On another note; I think I’m going to open my requests for Thanksgiving! What do y’all think? All my love!!

Description: Y/n, Southside sweetheart, thinks Sweet Pea despises her. He really, really, does not.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: Hints at smut but not really

Word count: 3k

Tags: Fluff, angst

Toni groans and throws another top on the growing pile of shirts that she has deemed unwearable. You had seen nothing wrong with it, a flowing pink blouse with cream polka dots. To her, however, it was too girly. You had scoffed at that. There's nothing wrong with femininity, she of all people should understand that. Maybe if she had wanted something that screams masculinity she should have raided Sweet Pea's closet instead of yours.

The Serpents seem to think there is something wrong with being girly though, looking down on anyone who dares wear anything pink or flowery and definitely anyone who wears both at the same time. You roll your eyes at that every time. You, a teenage Serpent yourself, are perhaps the most "girly" person to have ever set foot on Southside grounds. You take pride in that, wearing your Serpent jacket over all the ballerina skirts and pretty pink bralettes that your flowery heart desires. Yes, you get glares all the time but the switchblade in the pocket of your cherry blossom backpack just begs them to start something they can't finish.

"Y/n, baby, I love you but your closet is a nightmare! Do you have nothing remotely black? Or skimpy! C'mon, you want to impress Sweet Pea don't you?" Toni's voice is teasing and your cheeks flame in embarrassment and a tinge of anger.

"I would never dress to impress," you make air quotes with your fingers and pretend to gag, hiding the unavoidable lust in your voice before you say his name, "Sweet Pea! He's a jackass who's high on some masculinity crap! I can't do that."

She smirks at you from the mirror she's applying her bright red lipstick in, "you can very much do that and I know you want to. You're telling me that you don't lay awake at night and imagine his hands, his very large hands, doing unspeakable things to you? You may be the cutest little thing we've got on the Southside but you, baby girl, want him bad. Trust me, I know. I'm your best friend."

"Yeah, well, you're wrong and even if I did want, well, all that," you blush at the thought and swallow hard, pushing down at the buzz in the pit of your stomach, "he hates me so it would never happen. Theoretically, of course!"

"Uh huh, sure," is all your pink haired best friend says before turning back to your baby blue, vintage vanity to curl her pink locks.

You cross your arms over you aqua t-shirt, feigning annoyance, "and just what is that supposed to mean, missy?"

"Just that we both know you're turned on from just hearing Sweets' name. And he doesn't hate you, I roll with the guys remember," she catches your wide, doe eyes in the mirror and shakes her head lightly, laughing softly at your blown pupils, "he wants you. Bad."

You scoff again, leaning down to tie up your white tennis shoes, "he does not. He thinks I'm weak; that I'm going to bring down the pack.”

"He feels like he needs to protect you. There is a difference," Toni stands, twirling in front of your mirror to approve her outfit for tonight.

Some of the Serpent teens are gathering at the quarry, much like they do most weekends, to hang out. Today is special, though, because it's the last weekend before summer ends and you're all forced to go back to an educational prison. You're heart races knowing that Sweet Pea will, in fact, be there tonight. He's a jerk, at least he seems like one. Every time you’ve spoken to him it's been to tell him to let you handle your own problems. Granted most of your problems have involved ghoulies trying to make you their lunch because of your cute aura and quiet voice but he's never given you an opportunity to prove yourself. No one has.

Your voice is soft, like usual, but a tad annoyed, "I don't need protection. Why does everyone assume that I do?"

"Because you're so cute we could just eat you up!" Toni leans over to pinch your cheeks and you try not to giggle because that would only prove her point, "also, that isn't what you're wearing, is it?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You peek around her and scrutinize your outfit.

An aquamarine t-shirt that stops right before a pair of fashionably baggy, cuffed jean shorts. The same pair of pink pearl earrings that you always wear are in your ears and the white tennis shoes you just laced are on your feet. Your worn Serpent jacket hangs proudly off your shoulders, the bright red patches bold against the black leather. The cherry blossom backpack is settled on your bed, ready to be grabbed and filled with your reusable water bottle, rose perfume, matching cherry blossom wallet, and switchblade, of course. All in all, it’s the perfect outfit.

You glance up to see Toni just smiling lightly at you, "Nothing, you're right. It's perfect."

                                               *     *     *     *     *    

Like usual, you and Toni take her bike to the quarry. You don't have your own bike so you ride behind her, your arms around her waist, her sugary scent blowing at you in full force, and your head thrown back, hollering into the wind. The two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Nobody would have ever seen it coming. You were always playing in princess dresses and she was the pirate storming the tea party in search of cookies that were dubbed gold. You're polar opposites yet she's, perhaps, the only one who really knows how alike you are.

You arrive at the quarry laughing and cheering like maniacs, nothing out of the norm. You swing your legs over the side of her bike, hopping off gracefully and smoothing back your wind blown hair. It's dusk, the sun having just set, and there are mason jar lights sitting on the picnic tables and fairy lights strung through the trees. For such a rowdy gang, there is soft indie music floating through the air; the final touch to, dare you say, a romantic atmosphere. You couldn't be more proud.

A familiar arm is slung over your shoulders, pulling you into a playful side hug.

"Fogarty! I haven't seen you all summer," you swing yourself into a real hug, latching your arms around his neck and squeezing as he pulls you off your toes, "where have you been, Fangsy?"

He chuckles and sets you back on your feet, ruffling your hair and grabbing one of your hands to twirl you around, "hey cupcake, it's good to see you too. I've been here and there, sorry I wasn't around."

You giggle and shake your head, pulling him to sit at the practically full picnic table that Toni claimed. The table cheers when they see you, pulling you in for hugs and playing with your hair. You hear a couple voices tell you that you look cute and others telling you to come sit with them. You slide your backpack off, placing it under the table when you find an empty spot. Before you can take your seat, however, a pair of muscled arms circles your waist, pulling you onto their lap and stealing your seat for themselves.

A leather and pine scent envelopes you as the table breaks out in hooting laughter, "Sweet Pea this is my seat. As in singular. Mine."

All he does is tighten his arms deliciously around your hips, pressing down slightly on your lower stomach and making you very much aware of the intimacy of your position. You look to Toni for help but all she does is wink, turning her head to join one of the many side conversations taking place. You sit in silence for a while, as stiff as a board in Sweet Pea's lap. You aren't uncomfortable so much as nervous. You can't lie, you've been practically in love with Sweets for as long as you can remember but, until now, he has barely shown you any form of affection besides ‘saving’ your sorry butt on numerous occasions.

"Relax, baby," he mumbles into your neck for only you to hear, "it's just me."

You want to yell at him for calling you baby, you really do, but it sounds so perfect coming from his lips and his mouth on your neck is too pleasurable to push away. Instead, going against everything you stand for, you sink into his broad chest, leaning your head under his chin and pulling one of his hands into both of yours.

"Much better," his chest rumbles softly under your back.

"Pea we're supposed to hate each other, remember?" You toy with his fingers, noting their size and remembering your conversation with Toni from earlier today.

She wasn't wrong, thoughts of his hands, among other parts of him, keep you awake at night. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck.

He leans down, skimming his lips over your earlobe while he answers, "Since when? I never got that memo."

His hand moves from your hip to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers dipping in and resting on the skin under your naval. You bite back an unexpected moan at his lips and searing fingertips, leaning further into his chest and shifting your hips backward to fully press yourself against him. You let go of his hand in exchange for digging your fingernails into the picnic table. His hands are hidden, given him all the encouragement he needs to slide his now free hand up your bare thigh, drawing circles with his thumb on the inside of it.

"Sweets," your voice is raw, "what are you doing?"

"Showing you just how much I don't hate you."

His lips inconspicuously move to your neck, claiming the skin under your jaw as his own in the darkness. His hand draws further up your thigh, under the denim of your shorts and stopping at the apex of your thigh.

"Let me show you that I very much do not hate you, baby," he murmurs into your ear, the hand in the waistband of your shorts skimming over your skin in mesmerising patterns.

"Not here," you force the words pass you lips, melting into his touch.

"Then let's go," he practically pleads into your ear and it's all you can do not to wrap your legs around him right here and right now, nodding desperately as he scoops you into his arms and stands up.

You giggle loudly and, for the first time tonight, you're able to see his face. He's smiling down at you, a soft look in his molten chocolate eyes. His stare soon turns heated and he licks his lips, drawing your eyes to his mouth. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling you flush against his chest. You turn to look at the table in time to see Toni nudge Fangs and point to the two of you, smirking at you when she catches your eye.

"Well guys," Sweet Pea addresses the table as he walks stealthily backwards, "it's been fun but we're going to head out now."

Before anyone can protest you lean up and whisper run in his ear. Before you know it he's sprinting to his motorcycle, the table of hollering Serpents shouting words of advice at your back. One that rings louder in the night is your best friend's voice screaming to "use protection". You blush and bury your head into Sweets' shoulder.

He sets you down on his bike when he reaches it, placing his hands on your hips and staring into your eyes through the darkness. The tension between you is tangible. You can hear every inhale he takes, imagining his bare chest moving over your own. In the blink of an eye you reach up and hook your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Sparks dance up your spine and his hands find your hips. Fire burns everywhere he touches you.

You break the kiss quickly, "crap Pea, my backpack! I left it under the table!"

His eyes are still closed and he finds you lips once more, pressing another kiss to you lips, "okay baby, wait here, I'll go grab it."

"No, it's okay I ca-"

"Baby, just let me go get it," he stares into your eyes, pleading with you to let him go retrieve your backpack.

"Fine."

You watch him run back towards the others. You don't realise how dark it is until your all alone and the woods around the quarry become more prominent. Every noise you hear sets you on edge. You swear you keep hearing twigs snap but it's only your imagination, right? It has to be. That or Sweet Pea is pulling a prank on you. Maybe you should have just gone to get your bag with him.

You hear another twig snap and tense up. You ball your hands into fists, readying for anything. You can fight, that puts you somewhat at ease. Toni is the only one who knows that, spare a few older Serpent women who aren't in Riverdale anymore, because they had been the ones to rough you up during your gauntlet. Yes you, the softest girl on the Southside, refused to do the dance. There were no rules prohibiting you from the gauntlet so you opted for it instead. Needless to say, you can take a hit.

"You little skank!" A voice sounds from behind you, causing you to whirl around.

In front of you stands a tall redhead with hair to her elbows. Her serpent jacket clings to her slim form, accentuating her curves in a way that makes you jealous. She wears a paint of off brand skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that's a little too tight. Her eyes are bright green and furious, glaring bloody murder at you. You have no clue who she is.

"Uhm, excuse me?" You glance behind you just to make sure she isn't talking to some else.

"You heard me, slut. Who the hell do you think you are? Sitting on my man's lap?"

The ‘slut’ thing doesn't bother you and neither does the ‘who the hell’. She doesn't know you so you refuse to take her meaningless words to heart. However, the part where she claims Sweet Pea has you seeing red.

"Amazing. Everything that you've just said is wrong." You smile innocently at her, curling your hands into fists once more behind your back.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say to me?" She takes a step towards you, her chucks cracking another stick.

"Oh, sorry, let me explain. My name is y/n, not slut,” you counter her step with one of your own, “that's who I am. Oh, and he's not your man. If he is than why is he pulling me onto his lap instead of you?” you scrunch your eyebrows and look her up and down, “Oh, wait, who are you again?"

Your sugary sweet smile turns sinister in the blink of an eye; the same amount of time it takes her to charge at you. The words ‘cat fight’ ring in your ears as you dodge a poorly thrown left hook. You use the opportunity to land a blow to her exposed stomach. She coughs quietly and you step back to give her room, trying to be as kind as you can to someone who's wrongly accusing you of being a harlot. You're caught off guard though when she lunges for you, knocking you to the ground and pinning your legs under her.

Rookie mistake number two. She goes to swing again but before she can you grab her shoulders and roll, ending in a straddled position with her arms secured over her head. You smirk triumphantly down at the red head under you.

You plan to keep her there until Sweet Pea gets back but she decides to, rather stupidly, open her mouth, "I bet this is a familiar position for you, huh?"

It's not red that you see this time but blackness. All you remember is calling her a bitch and the next thing you know your hands are bruised and you're being pulled, legs kicking in protest, off the red head who now has a busted eye and a bloody nose. You're screaming at whoever has you in their grasp to let you go another round with the nameless girl. A mass of teen Serpents surrounds you, cheering loudly for you. 

"Baby, as hot as that was, I'm not putting you down," a familiar voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You look back at the bloodied girl on the ground. She makes eye contact with you from around Fangs who's trying to help her stand up. You don't know where the reckless idea comes from but, to be fair, you aren't really thinking straight right now. Perhaps that's why you follow through with the plan you have just hastily concocted in your head.

You toss the red head a cute smile and mumble delicately to the tall raven haired boy, "hey, Sweets?"

"Yeah y/n?"

You glance up at him, still in his arms, and pull his lips to yours. You kiss him slowly, drawing it out for as long as you can before you have to breath again. You keep your lips millimetres from his, pressing them against his softly a few more times. When you look back to the ground, the girl is nowhere in sight and the rest of the Serpents have migrated back to the picnic tables. Your cherry blossom back pack is settled at Sweet Pea's feet.

"So," you giggle at his dazed expression, "do you still feel like you need to protect me?"

"Yes," your face falls and you almost push yourself from his arms.

"But, to be fair, I always will. That's just me. You looked amazing fighting though. Absolutely fucking beautiful."

"Okay," you kiss his jaw softly, "I think I can handle that. Now can we please get out of here?"

"Fuck yes!"

[sope-and-shine]

Written In the Stars: Finale

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, // Mummy!Namjoon, Moon Goddess!Taehyung

-> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader // Taehyung x Reader

-> Word Count: 7k

-> Summary: Life after losing a loved one is challenging, especially when you’ve had the chance to see just how long the two of you have spent passing each other by. With it only being a few weeks since your loss, you’ve found your life has become dull and despondent. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to move on, even with the help of friends.

-> Warning(s): mild language

a/n: I can’t believe we’re actually at the end 😭😭 I’ve put so much time and love into this story and I’m both sad and happy that I’ve been able to finish it! I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Masterlist

*

*

*

“Ma’am, where’s the restroom?”

You turn and see a father holding a small boy in his arms, and you immediately jump into action, “Take a right out of these doors, down the hall until you see the blue traffic sign, and it’ll be on the right. There should be a Daffodil portrait on the wall right before your turn.”

The man heaves a happy - very relieved - sigh, “Thank you!”

“Of course!” You watch as he speedwalks out of the exhibit and takes off down the hall. You can only hope he actually makes it there.

The day shift has definitely been more exciting. It’s only been a few weeks, but your days have been filled with more excitement since you switched. You tried to continue with the night shift post, but the silence just became too overwhelming. Thankfully, Hoseok seemed to understand when you told him.

You switched back to the day shift in hopes it would help to take your mind off of Namjoon. You thought being surrounded by others would make you feel less lonely, but you can’t help but think about how your life has changed so drastically.

Adjusting to your new life hasn’t been easy. Everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Namjoon. You hear his laugh by the water fountains, you see his hair in crowds on the street, and you can still feel his arms around you at night as you lay in bed.

At first, you thought it was something you could handle. You thought if you embraced his goodbye, then you’d be content to live the rest of your life without him. But no one told you losing love would hurt this bad.

You’ve tried to do other things, like knitting and working out, but you’re not very good at either one - nor do you really like them. Cooking had seemed like a good idea until you realized that meant cleaning the dishes. With every attempt to move on, you seem to take 3 large steps back.

You find yourself going to places Namjoon would have liked. Spontaneous trips to the park lead to long evenings by the river. Extra hours at the museum have you wandering through the exhibits just to look at the art one more time. Even a quick trip to the store has you buying things you’ve never thought to try.

The one place you never go is the King’s exhibit. At least, not of your own free will. It’s only happened twice - once being today - because someone had to call out. And just like the time before, you find yourself at the aquarium.

A place where Namjoon was truly happy.

The touch tanks have quickly become a favorite of yours. They allow you time to think to yourself and drift off, to daydream about a handsome king with an endearing fascination for the world around him.

You like to visit the crabs the most. Mostly because you know Namjoon would if he could. He thought they were the cutest on your outing together, and holding the tiny creature in your palm you can see why.

“Ow!” You flinch at the small pinch from the crustacean. Your hands jerk, but you try to protect the crab the best you can without dropping it.

“Here-” A large hand reaches in front of you and plucks the crab from your hands, “These guys get a little finicky when you hold them up too high.”

You place your thumb over the pinch and turn to him, “Really? I can’t-” You pause mid-sentence.

Now, looking at the crab’s savior, you see him. Lilac strands poke out of the blue university hat he’s wearing. His khaki shorts are worn and just barely reach his knees, and his sneakers are all worn out. Even the socks he’s wearing have slightly lost their vibrance. His baggy t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s more fit than he was a few weeks ago, but a few weeks ago he had disappeared right in front of you. But there’s no mistaking that dimpled smile.

This is Namjoon.

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, and you must look exactly how you feel because his smile turns to concern, “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” You’re not. You’re absolutely stunned and he doesn’t seem to recognize you. They do say everyone in the world has 4 people that look just like them. How unfortunate that you’ve found his. “You just...look really familiar.”

“Really? Well, I guess that means I have a memorable face then.” He muses, chuckling to himself - Exactly like Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You take another selfish moment to look at him, admiring how gentle he is with the small creature in his hands. “You really seem to like the crabs.”

“Yeah, I do!” He nods enthusiastically, “I really only applied here as an excuse to play in the touch tanks.”

“Something easy to wind down from classes?” You ask.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to you as if you suddenly grew 2 extra heads, “How’d you know?”

You giggle, “You’re wearing a university hat with your grad year.”

“Really?!” You nod and he pulls the cap off of his head, letting out a frustrated groan when he confirms he’s wearing his university hat, “No wonder my supervisor straight up ignored me this morning. This is the third time this month I’ve grabbed the wrong one.”

“At least it’s a nice hat.” You assure him, trying to remain positive.

He places the cap back on his head and sighs, “Tell that to him.” He brings the small crab still resting in his palms eye level, “This little guy knows exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t tell me you speak crab.”

“Of course I do! You just have to know how to listen.” He says matter of factly.

“Alright then. Ask him how he’s doing.”

“I will.” He turns to the crab and stares at it as if they’re having a staring contest, “How are you feeling, little guy?” He moves the crab up to his ear and acts as though it’s whispering to him, nodding and humming disagreement, “I see...I’d be pretty frightened too.”

You narrow your eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said he was having a great day until someone came and held him up too high.” He teases.

“You’re taller than me!” You argue.

He looks you up and down, nodding, “You’re right…” He seems to contemplate for a moment before he shrugs with a sly smile, “He probably just likes me better.”

“Oh, really now?” You challenge. He nods proudly and you scoff, “Well, what’s your name? Resident Crab Whisperer?”

“No! That’s way too long.” He laughs. He extends the hand not cradling a crab towards you and smiles, “My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“Well…” You hesitate, trying your best not to react. You swallow your nerves and shake his hand with a smile of your own, “-It’s nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. Any relation to the mummy at the museum?”

“That hopeless romantic from the Seoul Museum?” He jokes. He takes this moment to place the crab back into his touch tank, “Yeah, he’s like a great-great-super great uncle or something like that.”

“Well, you look like him.” You say. He gives you a confused look and you’re quick to back-pedal, “His portraits! You look like his portraits.”

“I do?” He asks.

“Besides the purple hair, I’d say you’re the spitting image.”

“I’ll have to check it out myself then.”

“Well, their hours are 8am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 12pm to 6pm on Sunday.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, “I’ve been the night guard the past few years. I just switched to day shift.”

“Really?!” He asks in disbelief, “Isn’t it creepy working the graveyard shift? It must be way too quiet.”

“Not really.” You think back to the nights you spent with your Namjoon and how he made you laugh. You remember asking him the same thing one Saturday night after the museum closed. You two were much closer than his first Sunday there, but you couldn’t help but worry about how he must get through the night alone. But Namjoon was a king. He wasn’t worried about a bit of peace and quiet. “A friend of mine once told me that silence is more reassuring than anything. It means peace.”

“They sound wise.”

“He was...” You can’t help but think about Namjoon’s absence.

This always happens when you think about any good times you may have had, remembering how much fun you had and how you’ll likely never have it again. Being in front of this Namjoon does nothing to help you feel at ease.

“You know that movie-?! It’s-Oh...What was it called…?” The lilac-haired Namjoon suddenly claps his hands together with a proud smile, “Night at the Museum! Anything like that happen after hours?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing better than anyone how Ben Stiller’s character felt during that movie. Of course, the Namjoon in front of you would never believe you, “I wish. It’d make some of the exhibits a lot more interesting.”

He nods, “I bet they’d be pretty interactive too…Could you imagine history telling itself?!”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about the love-life of a thousand-year-old mummy.” You joke, knowing full well you already have.

“Yeah, I guess that would get annoying after a while...always lamenting about love and what-not…” He seems slightly disappointed, but his smile comes right back, “Why don’t you let me show you around and I’ll tell you about our exhibits instead?”

You’re taken aback by his boldness, “Oh, are you sure?” He nods, “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! My shift ended like 30 minutes ago and this place is only open for another 3 hours.” He assures you, “So, what do you say?”

Maybe it’s because he’s the spitting image of Namjoon, or maybe it’s the similarities in their personas. Maybe it’s just the way his dimples appear every time he laughs and his laugh sounds just like his. No matter what it is that’s drawing you to this Namjoon, you find that your heart has taken over for your brain and it’s putty in his hands, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Namjoon breaks into an excited grin, dimples on full display, “That’s the spirit!” He straightens his posture and holds his arm out for you as if he were a butler or an escort, “From here until the aquarium closes, consider me your personal tour guide for the rest of the evening. There won’t be a bench you haven’t sat on by the time we’re done!”

He’s confident.

But perhaps he’s too confident…

He takes you to places you’ve been before, educating you on every animal in great detail. He doesn’t miss a single species, and he takes great care to make sure you see what he’s talking about - guiding your head and pointing in the right direction. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you could listen to him talk for hours. He’s so well-spoken, and he describes everything in such wonderful detail. It comes as no surprise to you when he mentions himself to be a literature major.

He has such a unique personality and the most terrible humor. He tells you about his bike and how much he enjoys riding by the river and through the park. He tells you about his love for moon jelly and how it’s like looking up at the sky when you see them. Everything about him is just so uniquely him, but you can’t help but see all of the similarities he holds to your Namjoon.

His physical features are all the same: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his dimples, his height, and even his haircut! There’s no doubt that this Namjoon would look identical to your Namjoon if his hair were the same dark brown. His interest in the Moon and his love of literature. Your Namjoon would have excelled academically in this world just like this Namjoon. Even his love of small creatures and terribly out-of-date dad jokes is exactly the same!

He’s Namjoon.

But he doesn’t hold the memories of your Namjoon…

Taehyung had told you how Fate had tried to warn him several times. How Fate couldn’t change what would happen, and she could only hope to guide everyone to the best outcome without ruining the future herself. But how cruel could Fate be to have another Namjoon this close to you yet not be yours. To thrust this on you so soon without even a few months to grieve more.

How could someone be so heartless?

---

“And this would be the last bench of our tour.” Namjoon says as you exit the aquarium, extending an arm as he presents it to you.

“Oh wow...” You thank him and take a seat, playing along with his charade - as you have all night - as you pretend to admire the bench. You admire the dedication plaque for just a moment before you turn to him in mock disappointment, “I thought you said we’d see everything on this tour?”

He shrugs, “I may have rambled here and there...” He seems almost sheepish as he realizes how he went on and on over every topic the two of you talked about, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries here.” You assure him. You’d take 5 more tours just to listen to him ramble on and on for hours, “Now I know that fish talk through make sounds by vibrating their muscles against their bladder. Pretty weird, but I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could educate you a bit.” He seems nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts from one foot to the other, “Maybe we can do this again?”

“Uh…” You hesitate, “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s just a tour. No harm in that.

“Maybe...I could take you to dinner too?” He asks.

There’s some harm in that.

He already seems nervous so you try to find the right words to say, “Oh, I-” But your face seems to give you away way too easily.

“You’re not interested.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay! I get it, I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” You stand up and try to explain, but he seems to already have your rejection in his mind.

“No, please, don’t feel like you have to. I’ve been told I can be a bit pushy.”

“No, that’s really not it! I’d love to go to dinner with you!”

That seems to catch his attention.

“Really?”

You nod, “Yeah! Just not now, or like-...anytime soon.”

The last of Namjoon’s hope turns into skepticism, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”

“I know how it sounds, but please-!” You stop yourself before you can blurt out the wrong thing and scare him off entirely, “I lost someone really special to me recently. His loss hasn’t been easy for me, and I don’t want to jump into something too soon. I don’t think that’d be fair to you if I’m still hung up on someone else.”

“Oh wow...I’m really sorry about that.” You thank him and take a moment to breathe, holding yourself back from the tears that want to break free, “I went through a loss not too long ago too! You’re taking the right steps, and I appreciate you thinking about my feelings.”

You smile, “Of course! Everyone deserves that.”

“Well, no dinner then, but maybe another tour next weekend? Same time?” He asks, “Strictly hanging out though. No dinner.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He says excitedly. Though, as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s stepping over himself to correct what he’d said, “Not a date! Absolutely not a date. No, ma’am.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at how endearing he is, “I can’t wait.”

You squeeze the strap of the bag on your shoulder with one hand and wave with the other, turning and departing from the current Namjoon. Maybe in time, you can fall in love with this Namjoon for who he is and not because he reminds you of your Namjoon. At that point, then this lilac-haired, crab-loving, literature enthusiast would be your Namjoon.

You can only hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

*

*

*

“So, that’s it then?”

“I’m sorry?” You turn around confused, only about 50 feet away.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to be nice to this me, but not the one that waited 1,000 years for you!” He explains.

You’re so confused that it takes a second to grasp what this Namjoon is saying, and then it hits you. This Namjoon isn’t just any Namjoon.

He’s your Namjoon.

King Kim Namjoon.

The Hopeless Romantic from the Seoul Museum of Art and History.

“Namjoon…?” You ask. You know it’s him, you’re confident. But it still seems like it’s way too good to be true.

He nods, “It’s me.”

In an instant, you’re running towards him. You fling yourself into his awaiting arms and squeeze him as tight as humanly possible, burying your face into his neck as the tears begin to form in your eyes. You let your hands thread through his soft, purple locks and allow yourself to relax with his arms squeezing around your waist.

You bask in this overwhelming feeling of being whole again. You feel light and complete for the first time in weeks and it fills you with so much joy that you can hardly contain yourself. The embrace feels like that first kiss all over again, and you just never want to let him go.

As you calm down and you come to realize that Namjoon isn’t going anywhere, you pull away just enough so you can see his own tear-stained face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy, but his smile is unmistakable with those gorgeous dimples of his.

Looking at him, it’s now that you realize…

He remembered you this whole time.

You smack his chest - not enough to hurt him, but enough so he knows you mean business - and he flinches, “How dare you play with me like this, Namjoon? Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me?!”

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes. He runs his hands up and down your sides affectionately, trying to keep you close - and not angry with him, “Trust me when I say this wasn’t easy for me either.”

As much as you would love to be mad with him for pretending he didn’t know you, you can’t. You’re just happy he’s here more than anything. But that still begs the question, “How are you here?”

“I’m not supposed to say much, but I can tell you the other deities had a few tricks up their sleeves.” He explains. He takes a moment to admire your features and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “But I think most of the thanks needs to go to Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “You know about him?!”

He nods, “It was a shock, but he and the other deities explained everything.” He pulls you closer and uses a hand to cup your face, “They gave me a whole life to share with you.”

You lean into his touch, but you’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in such a short time, “And you just remember everything?”

“They gave me the memories back.” He corrects. He’s so close now and you want nothing more than to start where the two of you had left off before you broke the spell, “I guess Fate had a backup plan for him.”

“Thank Fate for that.” You say before giving in to your temptation and pulling your soulmate in for a much needed, long-awaited, proper kiss

* *

*

“You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork to see Taehyung standing in your doorway, wearing his favorite emerald 3 piece suit. His fist is raised to the door frame as if he knocked just before he spoke. You must not have heard him.

You wave him in, “Yeah, come in! I’m just finishing up with this finance report.” You expect him to come right in, but he seems hesitant to do so. “Are you okay?”

“Am I not in trouble?” He asks.

Your brow raises in confusion, “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Well, Jimin said-'' Taehyung stops. He remembers the other day after work when he’d come home to Jimin and Jeongguk, going at it in the kitchen for the 4th time in 2 weeks. He’d thought it would be funny to dump water on them - and so had Guk - but the Earth deity had apparently been unamused. Of course, him being the pettiest individual he would settle for a payback that would absolutely scare him. He sits in the chair across from you and throws one leg over the other, “Nevermind. I know what happened.”

You chuckle, “Well, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I asked for you.”

“Oh, really?!” He’s definitely surprised, “What is it?”

“Well-” You move your finance report to the paper organizer on your desk, grab your bag at your feet, and stand up, “-why don’t show you?”

He uncrosses his legs and stands, “We’re going somewhere?”

You nod, “If you’re up for it.” You hold your hand out for him, an action that’s become normal between the two of you.

He takes your hand and you both exit your office together, leaving the human way. You make your way downstairs hand-in-hand, passing patrons that still roam the halls or meander up and down the stairs taking pictures to their heart's content. It all makes you feel human, and feeling human makes you feel happy.

On your way through the lobby, you catch sight of Eunha talking to another security guard. She’d made a request to switch shifts, and you made sure to have Hoseok take over her position under the guise of someone else. She looks happier, but you know better. Thankfully, her shift will be over in a few more hours.

“She’s pretty strong.” Taehyung comments, seeming to already know what you’re thinking. “I talked to her this morning and at lunch. She’s holding it together.”

You manage half a smile, “That’s good.”

Seokjin spots you walking together as you get closer to the exit and his smile widens, “Goodnight, (Y/n)! Goodnight, Taehyung!”

“Have a good night, Seokjin!” You respond, offering a small nod.

“See you tomorrow!” Taehyung waves. Seokjin gives him an indiscreet wink and you pretend you don’t see it even when Taehyung gives him an even more obvious wink back.

You playfully bump him with your hip and he pulls you with him, raising your joined hands above your head and resting them on your opposite shoulder. You squeeze as tight as you can together to fit through the door frame and out to the open air.

“I heard you promoted him.” Taehyung mentions as you make your descent down the large staircase.

You shrug, “There was an opening available.”

“Was there?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow.

You nod, “Yes. There was.” You nudge him back.

“Are you sure~?” The blonde asks again, “I’d hate to see you fall victim to those silly human emotions~”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you are something else!” You drop his hand and rush two steps ahead of him, but he’s right behind you.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He defends. He rushes down the steps to the bottom before you make it to the last step and he puts his hands out to stop you, “We wouldn’t want to upset the council, would we?”

“I think you’ve done enough angering the council to cover me.” You remind him, poking his nose with your pointer finger, “Besides, maybe I want to get under their skin.”

“All of them? Or someone specific?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You sigh, “I’m not saying Seowoo deserves it, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He agrees. He looks both ways down the sidewalk, “Which way?”

“This way.” You point towards the side of the museum where the street light is out, the darkness wrapping around the corner and making the perfect disappearing point.

You take his hand and together you both walk into the shadows, walking into the darkest section of the sidewalk before disappearing at the corner. You round the trunk of a cherry willow, a sliver of distant light shining through the drooping branches.

Taehyung runs his thumb over your hand and stops, “Are you wearing rings?” He pulls back to check and does a double-take when he sees you in the dim light, “Why’d you change?”

“We’re at a university.” You explain. You’ve changed from your work clothes to a university sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, “I’d rather look like a student than a teacher. You should probably change too.”

“Oh...sure.” In his own fashion, he changes into a white shirt under a baggy, light beige sweater vest, a pair of jeans, and orange converse. He looks himself over once before fashioning a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to finish his look. “Where are we?”

“Eunha’s college.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why are we here? She’s still at work.”

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” You explain.

“You have friends?” He asks, earning an unamused glare from you, “Sorry.”

“This way.” You lead Taehyung off the grass to the actual path and walk under the lights back towards the main building. When you reach a fork in the path you make a left to go around the side of the building between another series of buildings on the other side of the path. You keep walking until you reach another large area with benches, tables, and a fountain.

Sitting on the side of the fountain with just enough light that you can see them, is a trio of 3 men with different hair colors. One with midnight blue, a pastel pink, and lilac. Of course, you recognize them all without a problem at all.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late, I just had to grab Taehyung.” You call out.

The pastel pink head turns to reveal Hoseok - who’s changed from his normal all-black outfit to a black t-shirt with the word obey in colorful letters, bright orange pants, layered necklaces, and a pair of black, yellow-tinted glasses resting on the top of his head, “No worries, we haven’t gotten started yet.”

“Yeah, Joon was just telling us about the assignment we missed.” Yoongi agrees, revealing himself to be the midnight blue head of hair. He’s wearing an all blue, leaf-patterned outfit with a TuneSquad jersey underneath his top.

“You wouldn’t have missed it if you made it to class on time!” Taehyung freezes as soon as he hears his voice, pulling you to a stop as well. He knows that voice better than anyone, knowing damn well it belongs to someone that’s supposed to be dead.

Hoseok shrugs and leans back, “What can I say? I had priorities to attend to.”

“I just wasn’t interested.” Yoongi stands up and takes a few steps to stretch, revealing Namjoon sitting at the end of the three.

Namjoon is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a black belt with a white shirt tucked in and a light blue button-up over it. He sighs, “How you have the highest marks in the class I will never know.”

Taehyung looks between the three of them, going back and forth between the two deities and Namjoon before settling on you, “What is going on right now?”

You squeeze his hand, “Just don’t say anything.” You pull him with you to join the others, coming to a stop in front of all of them. You point to the blonde and then to Hoseok, “Taehyung, this is Hoseok-”

The walking gumball throws up a peace sign, “Sup.”

“-Yoongi.”

“Hey.” He gives a small wave

“-And Namjoon.”

Namjoon is the only one to stand and walk up to Taehyung to offer his hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He asks, shaking the old king’s hand.

“(Y/n) hasn’t been able to shut up about you,” Namjoon explains with a devious smile. You visibly freeze and that only eggs him on more, “She said you were annoying when she first transferred into our class, then she said she thought she was in love with you.”

Taehyung gives you a look and you completely ignore him, “Namjoon!”

“Of course, we all knew she was,” Hoseok adds with a teasing smile of his own.

“Hoseok! Shut up!”

“How interesting.” Taehyung chuckles, happy to know how you feel even as you pretend you don’t exist, “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Why don’t we all move this way? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” You suggest, hoping to move on from your own embarrassment.

“Yes!” Hoseok jumps up and throws his arms in the air before dropping them back down to his sides, “I’m starving!”

Yoongi scoffs, “You’re always starving...”

“I’m growing. I need sustenance.” Hoseok defends, patting his stomach for emphasis.

You walk up beside him and pat the back of his head, “I think all of that food is going right to your head.”

Hoseok looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon sweeps into his defense, “C’mon, guys, don’t pick on him!”

“Yeah! Don’t pick on me!” He pouts, crossing his arms.

“He can’t help it if he loses brain cells without food,” Namjoon says, turning and grabbing his belongings while you and Yoongi laugh at Hoseok’s expense.

“Do you want me to swear at you?!” The poor god of Death looks absolutely appalled and utterly betrayed by the lilac-haired man. He huffs, “You children have no respect for your elders.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Yoongi asks, walking past Hoseok to grab his own bag.

“Absolutely not!”

Taehyung watches the dysfunctional chaos before him, in awe that the 3 pillars of balance could act like humans. Not just with each other, but with someone he himself once called a friend. You’re all so different than you are at the museum and the council meetings, it’s like you’re not even the same people.

“Tae?” You ask, pulling him out of his confused state. You hold your hand out to him, asking him to join you as the others continue to walk ahead. He accepts.

The 5 of you walk together, further away from the buildings on campus to the fence that lines the end of the property. You all forego the sidewalk for walking across the lawn, getting further away from the lights as you go.

Hoseok comes to a stop in the middle of the grass and Taehyung almost walks into him, “Do you think this is far enough?”

Yoongi looks around and shrugs, “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Notice what?” Taehyung asks.

“Way to sound like we brought him here to murder him.” Namjoon jokes.

“Namjoon. Hold my hand.” You say, dropping Taehyung’s for his.

Hoseok and Yoongi hold hands across from you and Namjoon laughs, “Oh, are we having that seance now?” He looks at Taehyung and winks, “Sorry, I guess we forgot to mention this part.”

“Just hold my hand.” You demand. He does and Hoseok takes his other, creating a chain between the 4 of you.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright, let’s do it.”

You and Hoseok nod in agreement and Namjoon nods as well, acting as though what you’re all doing is just a practical joke you hadn’t let him in on. It’s only when a soft golden light starts to travel between your hands and to him that he starts to get worried.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, fearful of what’s going on. He tries to pull away, but you and Hoseok are much stronger than the poor human. The light only continues to grow brighter, and the brighter it glows the more concerned Namjoon becomes, “Guys-?!”

The light washes over him like a wave and it’s like someone has opened his eyes for the very first time again. He takes a deep breath, and then he’s looking around at the others and at himself and at Taehyung and it’s like he’s experiencing life for the first time all over again.

“How did-? But I thought-” He struggles to find the right words to say, unsure where to start, “What’s going on?”

You step in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Namjoon, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I’m (Y/n), and I’m Fate.”

His eyes widen, “Fate…?”

You nod and Hoseok pushes you out of the way to make his own introduction, “I’m Hoseok, but you’d know me better as Death.”

“You’re Death?” Namjoon asks, obviously not able to believe that someone like Hoseok could be something as dark and daunting as Death.

“Death equals mercy,” Hoseok explains. Both you and Yoongi push him from both sides and he chuckles, “Sometimes…”

Namjoon nods, not yet believing it but going along with the information anyways. He turns to Yoongi, “Does that make you Life?”

“Was it my sunny disposition that gave me away?” The blue-haired deity asks, earning a laugh from the king.

You move in front of Namjoon again and gently take his arm, “And this is Taehyung.” You pull him to where the blonde stands, still in shock, “You two have already met before, but you might remember him a bit differently.”

You place a hand over Taehyung’s head and down his front, revealing how he looked the very first time he had met with the king, “Jihye…”

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, waving shyly as his old appearance morphs back into his college boy disguise, “It’s been a while.”

They both just stare at each other, one nervous and the other in disbelief. Taehyung can’t help but think of all the things Namjoon could want to say to him. How disappointed he is. How upset he must be. It comes as no surprise to anyone when Namjoon moves forward and pulls Taehyung into a hug. His arms cross behind his head and he pulls Taehyung as close as humanly possible without hurting him, “I’ve missed you.”

His words are like a breath of fresh air and Taehyung finds himself relaxing into the embrace and holding his friend back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too…”

It’s a special moment, one Taehyung never thought he would get. His first friend is back and it’s thanks to 3 very unlikely people.

“Why didn’t you come to see me after the spell worked?” Namjoon asks, pulling away.

Taehyung looks down, slightly ashamed, “I didn’t want to mess up again.”

“Again?”

“Like the first time. We’d been so close, but even if I had made it work you still would have-” He stops. He doesn’t need to say it. Not when everyone already knows what he’s going to say.

“But I thought once we broke the spell I’d have to wait until my next life?” Namjoon asks, reiterating what both he and Eunha had put together.

“Technically, this is your next life.” Yoongi mentions.

Life’s revelation comes as a shock to both Namjoon and Taehyung, “What?”

“You were supposed to meet in this life, but because you two just had to make it happen sooner-” Yoongi makes sure to glare so hard in Taehyung’s direction that his planet might even shiver, “-the spell tore your soul away from this one and placed it with your previous body once the spell took hold again.”

“With the spell broken, we were able to put your soul back in this body and merge them together.” You explain. The 3 of you have been sitting on this plan for weeks, and you’ve carefully crafted a friendship with this Namjoon since his soul left his previous body just to ensure you’d be able to make this change happen altogether.

“You’ve been able to do this the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung asks, completely shocked. You give him this ‘are you kidding me right now' look and he seems to get the hint, “Right. Fate’s strings…multiple outcomes.”

“I can’t believe this…I can’t wait to tell Eunha.” The modern king is still entranced with himself like he’s never looked at his body before. And then his words hit him and he realizes that Eunha isn’t here and has no idea that he’s alive, “I have to go see her right now-!”

He turns to take off in a sprint and Hoseok places himself in front of him with a hand on his chest, “Not so fast, deadman.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi groans, “You cannot just go hunting her down.” He’d spent far too much time conversing with young adults and various incompetent professors just for this plan to work and he was not going to let it all boil down to nothing.

Namjoon however, doesn’t understand exactly what’s at stake, “Why not? I need to tell her I’m alive and that I’m okay!”

“The magic that brought you back is still fragile. If you go to her now then the whole thing could blow up in all of our faces!” Hoseok explains in his own, dramatic fashion.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just wait?!” The king asks in disbelief.

“It will happen as Fate allows.” You remind him, “You’ve waited this long for a miracle, I think you can wait just a bit more.”

Your words are simple and still just as cryptic as always, but they put him at ease and bring him back to his senses. He nods, “Right…”

“Geez, why couldn’t you have been that easy?” Yoongi says, turning to Taehyung.

The blonde scoffs, “I am easy!”

Hoseok laughs, “I don’t think you actually know what that means.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“Well, now that we got all of that settled-” Hoseok claps his hands together loudly and rubs them together, “-let’s go get some grub.”

Yoongi turns to Hoseok in disbelief and hits his arm, “Are you serious, right now? You don’t need to eat to survive!” The blue-haired deity reminds him.

“But Namjoon does! I’m sure Namjoon would love a nice warm meal.” Hoseok turns to the poor human with a look that resembles a kicked puppy and it’s like they’ve gone back to being undercover again.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat I guess?” Namjoon caves, the god of Death breaking into celebration while the god of Life can only sigh in disappointment, “If we go to that one place downtown we can order drinks at the student price.”

The offer of a few beers seems to peak Yoongi’s interest much more than a measly human meal, “Hoseok gets to pay for everything.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I don’t care. It’s not like I can’t create my own money.”

He turns to get back on track for the gate to leave campus and Namjoon trails after him, “Wait you can do that?! How does that even work?”

“Oh, don’t get him started. Just blame magic like every other human and let’s get to the bus before it leaves.” Yoongi calls out, starting at a slower pace behind them. They leave you and Taehyung to take the back of the group, the both of you trudging along at a slow pace behind them.

“So, are you going back to your duties now that everything is done?” Taehyung asks. A part of him hopes that you’ll stick around or maybe even come to visit him on his own planet, but he knows that you have your own duties to attend to.

But you’ve thought about this as well. You knew that once Namjoon’s memories were merged and he’d be left to go and find Eunha on his own, that you’d be free to go back to how you were before this fiasco started. But things are different now. Now, you have Taehyung who’s snuck his way into your heart and made you feel emotions that you’d left reserved for humans. He’s helped you understand how to feel without letting it interfere with your job, and you don’t want to let that go just yet.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t have a planet of my own. I really just drift freely within space when I’m not doing anything.” You kick at the dirt, “Maybe I could stay here on Earth. Do what humans do.”

He’s shocked, “You’re staying on earth?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I heard there’s this museum with this ancient mummy exhibit.” With a mischievous, all-knowing grin you ask, “Wanna go check it out sometime?”

Taehyung can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face. He takes his arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, “I’d love to.”

You may not be able to look at your own future together, but at least you know that the both of you can do it together.

Maybe Hui was right.

Maybe for Fate, the future is written in the stars.

~ Thank you for reading ~

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Hoodie Headcanons

Pairings: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: None, just more fluff from me!

Characters: Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou, Amajiki, Kirishima

A/N: I highly recommend listening to Jacob Sartorius’s Sweatshirt song while reading ;)

                   ꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱            ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶

Midoriya:

● I wanna start this off by saying that Midoriya unironically likes that song ^^^. There's nothing I can do, it's canon.

● That said, he's super chill about you stealing his clothes

● Already owns a crap ton of hoodies and loose t-shirts, so you have quite the number to choose from

● Understands completely how you like the way they smell

● It was initially his idea to offer you his hoodie one evening when you looked cold

● After you put it on, he just couldn't stop staring at you

● You were so cute !!! and wearing his hoodie !!!

● 100% a yes from him when you asked to borrow it for a while longer

● And any other time you so happened to want to snatch one

● Wearing some of his clothing is def a cuddle turn on

● Your relationship in general is just soft vibes and fuzzy sweetness, but Izu will get nearly twice as tender curled up next to you in his hoodie

● A forehead and cheek kiss simp all the way, just smothering your face in little pecks

● Fall and winter only gain more appreciation from him, since it's perfect sweater weather and time to share warmth any way he could think of with his cutie (that's you (*~‿~))

● Is also down to see you in his t-shirts when it gets a little warmer

● It makes him feel some sort of way when he sees you in one of his old All Might tees

● A good way, mind you

● Maybe it's the nostalgia of the shirt seen on his favorite person

● Literally two of his top three favorite people right there in front of him for him to hold (but only one in the flesh. Both would be weird)

____________

Bakugou:

● We all know Baku's fashion sense is on point

● A lot of his clothes aren't for comfort, but he does have some baggy tees to sleep in

● Actually, not anymore

● Because they're all gone

● He feels like he's going crazy, trying to figure out how he's misplaced so many shirts

● Until one day when he catches you in the act, rummaging through his closet for another t-shirt to add to your collection

● "So that's why I haven't been able to find any of my clothes!"

● His voice makes you jump, whipping around to meet his triumphant expression

● So he wasn't just a dumbass who couldn't keep track of his own pajamas. That was a relief

● But then . . . you'd taken his stuff, and acted like he was crazy when he'd mentioned it missing in passing

● Now he's a little pissed

Your back was to his closet, guiltily holding a black t-shirt. "Katsuki, I—"

"Where's the rest of them?"

"Huh?"

"I know what you've been up to. What have you been doing with my clothes?"

You sheepishly lead him to your room, opening a drawer in your dresser where you'd been storing your stolen goods.

Katsuki looks into the nearly full drawer, then back at you, and you can't help but notice a hint of respect flickering on his features.

"You're pretty good," he admits, putting a hand in the drawer and pulling a shirt out at random. "I didn't even realize I was missing this many."

"I was going to give them back," you try to explain, now attempting to hide your face with your hair, "but they still kinda smelled like you, and they're so comfortable to sleep in—"

"Oh, so that's what you do with them." Katsuki's frown deepened, letting the shirt fall back into the pile. "Why don't you just come see me?"

You averted your eyes, shrugging. "I don't know. You just go to bed so early and sometimes I have to stay up and study but I still miss you, so having your stuff is really nice because it's like . . . you're there . . . ."

Katsuki sighed and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm here for you, babe. You don't need a piece of cloth when you can just ask."

"But what about when you're not here?"

He paused, realizing you had a point. "You can keep some," he finally grumbled. "But for heaven's sake, not so many! I'm running out of things to wear. If you need another one, tell me."

"Thank you." You hugged him back and finally watched as he lugged an armful of t-shirts out of your room and back to his.

● Eventually Bakugou realized that seeing you wearing one of his shirts oddly boosted his ego; especially seeing you so often, now that he knows your secret, more than happy to wear his clothing while the two of you hung out together

● He starts to insist that you wear some of his t-shirts around the common areas, letting people see you in them

● But before you get the chance, he makes sure to wear it frequently so everyone knows it's his, and then gives it to you to wear so everyone knows you're also his. It's just one of his pride things

● You soon start to expand from just shirts, eyeing the singular hoodie at the back of his closet

● He doesn't think it really fits his vibe, only having worn it alone in the confines of his own room when he was cold

● You insist that you want it, though, so he grumbles and starts wearing it in secret so it can smell like him for you

● He has to admit you're freakishly adorable in it, even though it's not really oversized or anything

● This prompts him to wear it more often, just not in front of anyone other than you

● You finally buy him another hoodie for his birthday, although it's more of a gift for yourself than him

●And now we move on to: Bakugou's baggy pants

● Maybe our favorite explosive blond boy likes his tops to be a little more put together

● But dang, do he got those loose-as-heck pants

● You steal them out of spite mostly, just to see his reaction to your hips filling out his pants

● Boy does he like it

____________

Todoroki:

● "Why are you taking my clothes? Do you not have enough of your own?"

● Doesn't really own hoodies, per se, but definitely has a steady supply of jumpers, knits, and turtlenecks

● Or, he used to

● Until you came along

● Is kinda confused at first, completely baffled at where all his clothes were going

● Then he finally caught you, recognizing one of his sweaters on you while you made a quick trip to the kitchen for tea

● Legitimately does not know why you'd take it, surprised that you'd steal from him

● You hastily explain that it's normal, and that you only do it so you can have something that smells like him for when he's not around

● After that, he kind of understands

● Took you shopping with him once, just to see what you liked. He thought he'd be buying you some sweaters of your own, but instead ended up purchasing his first oversized hoodie (with a few extras to share) (who wants a quick Buying Hoodies with Shouto drabble?)

● Now you're both obsessed with the hoodies, Shouto being surprised at how comfortable they are

● Loves showing up for cuddle sessions in a hoodie, pulling you close to him so you sink into the soft fabric

● 100% Shouto's new favorite clothing item

____________

Shinsou:

● It started out when you took a nap together for the first time at his house

● You'd asked to borrow one of his larger shirts to sleep in, feeling a bit uncomfortable in the top you had worn that day (I for one cannot sleep in my day clothes. I don't know why, it just feels wrong. Does anyone else feel like that too?)

● He let you wear a large, gray tee, which was so big on you it fell around your thighs

● He thought you looked so cute in it, especially since it mostly covered your shorts

● Thus began your obsession with wearing his clothes whenever possible

● Pajamas, t-shirts, and hoodies are your prime targets

● Totally wear them to bed whenever you're not sleeping with him (as in sharing a bed, not that)

● The scent makes it feel like he's right there with you

● Shinsou noticed immediately what you were doing but never made any moves to stop you, thinking it was cute

● Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes

● You look so cute but also it's low key hot, jus sayin 👀

● I've briefly mentioned this before, I think, but 'Toshi has some nice pajamas

● Nothing over the top expensive or anything, no

● I'm talking peak COMFY

● Ya ever see the pants with fleece lining and stuff?

● Mmm *chef kiss* do he have a pair of those fo sure

● Also, many with cat themes!

● Seeing you in his purple cat PJ pants only solidifies further for him that you're his Kitty

____________

Amajiki:

● Gets kinda flustered but at the same time is super flattered

● You actually ask to 'borrow' one of his sweaters, and he lets you, blushing as he watches you slide it over your head

● You're so frinking cute in it, and he feels this almost foreign sense of possessiveness wash over him because you're there and you're adorable and you're in his sweater and all of you is his

● Spontaneously hugs you and is even brave enough to press a few little kisses all over your face

● You wearing his sweaters and hoodies becomes a regular thing; asking every few weeks for a replacement top and him obliging, letting you pick something from his closet

● This doesn't stop you from occasionally stealing his clothes anyway, him sometimes catching you in one of his jumpers and briefly wondering if he'd ever actually seen you choose that particular one before shrugging and brushing it off

● He never fails to provide you with extras whenever you have to be apart for whatever reason, trying to help so you don't have to miss him so much

● Is 200% more inclined to hug you when you're wearing them. You just look so soft and warm, which he quickly finds out for himself that you are

● Definitely has thought about trying on one of your hoodies, but is a little too scared to ask

____________

KiriBaku:

● You alternate between wearing Bakugou's hoodie with Kirishima's sweats and then vice versa

● Neither of them can handle how cute you look practically drowning in hoodies that they bought oversized for them

● They're just that much bigger on you, especially Kirishima's since he's more willing to buy baggier hoodies than Bakugou

● If either one of them catches you wearing their clothes, they will literally just flop on top of you, overwhelmed by how much they want to hug you

● Even Bakugou will drop what he's doing just to go give you a hug, pulling you onto his lap for a minute and giving you a sweet kiss

● Eijirou will straight-up full-on tackle you, peppering kisses all over your face while he hugs you close to him

● If it's both of them at once though, get ready

● An impromptu cuddle sesh is guaranteed, most likely starting with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom while Bakugou follows close behind, ready to jump into bed with you

● Like I said way up top, Bakugou wasn't super into hoodies at first, but once you start stealing Kirishima's along with the one or two he does have, he starts buying and wearing them for the sole purpose of seeing you add them to your collection

● Bakugou's are better for going out in since they tend to fit you a little better, him opting to buy hoodies a little closer to his size

● Kirishima's are great for hanging out around the house, snuggling into the excess fabric and inhaling his scent while you wait for him to get home

● The two of them eventually start to just wear each other's hoodies interchangeably too, to the point of nobody really knowing who's hoodie is who's anymore

● E: "I'm pretty sure you got me this one for my birthday."

● K: "No, I bought it for myself, and then you decided to steal it on your birthday."

● Before all the confusion, though, you would rotate, having little hoodie parties where both you and Bakugou would wear one of Kirishima's hoodies while Kirishima wore one of Bakugou's

● Bonus: Kirishima has 100% decided to repay the whole clothing stealing thing and took your leggings, wearing them around the house just waiting for one of you to notice

● "Are those my leggings?"

● "Yeah."

● "What the hell."

● You just roll your eyes and go back to what you were doing

● Not ten minutes later, from another room—

● "EJIROU, WHAT THE FUCK!"

● "What?"

                  ꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱            ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶

Author's Note:

I will be posting a quick Eijirou drabble about him catching you stealing his hoodie, so expect that soon (find it here!). Also I didn't do TodoDeku but that was because I ran out of both motivation and time so  ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

Writing these made me realize how few hoodies I own. Also how single and alone I am.

*Waluigi voice* WAH

-Sugar

[sortavibing]

team captains’ aesthetics📼

ok- let’s be honest here- most of these guys don’t know how to dress to save their lives, like- they are teenage boys, so this is just what i wish they wore :)

daichi

he used to just wear the basic dad aesthetic, which was just a white t-shirt and worn out jeans and the faded baseball cap until suga told him that he had to change the way he dressed.

he doesn’t like being too over the top, because he doesn’t really care how his “aesthetic” looks to the public, so most of his clothes are pretty basic, but still classy.

he hates ankle pants with a passion. he doesn’t see the appeal to them and they always make him feel really uncomfortable, so he avoids them at all costs.

whenever he puts more effort into an outfit, he gets afraid that he is going to mess it up, so he becomes extra careful to not get it dirty, or to crease the fabric.

oikawa

he is a well dressed king- like did you see his outfit when he was watching the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match? immaculate i tell you. he rocks the academia aesthetic, and he always brags that he’s the most well dressed person on the aoba johsai team and he is

he doesn’t need glasses, but he still bought like 5 pairs to match his aesthetic, and iwazumi makes fun of him for buying them soley for the aesthetic, but he couldn’t care less.

oikawa tries to give the aoba johsai team fashion tips they need it and everyone hates it, because he says that he’s trying to “make you unfashionable little boys into beautiful men”. kyoutani has almost murdered him every time he says that.

he never slacks on an outfit, it’s always perfectly put together, and a little over the top, but he loves to be extra because it gives him even more confidence and he feels like a model.

kuroo

he’s a chemistry nerd at heart, so he has that business casual aesthetic, that’s simple, but still classy, because he knows how to match colors pretty well.

he doesn’t want to be super extra, because he likes to be comfortable, but he still wants to put together a nice outfit, so he can lowkey brag to the nekoma team.

 kuroo constantly asks kenma if his outfit is good, if the shirt came untucked, if he looks fashionable, etc. and kenma couldn’t care less. he always just responds with a half assed “yeah sure”, while he focuses on his game.

whenever he’s with bokuto, they both like to show off their fits, and make fun of each other’s outfits and aesthetics. after they finish joking around, they take way too many pictures of themselves and each other, and kenma and akaashi are just standing there like “are you done yet :l”

terushima

he 100% has the edgy eboy aesthetic, like- he has the tongue piercing and all. he has a tik tok where he posts those eboy thirst trap videos, and he has a good amount of followers who absolutely eat up his aesthetic and content.

he likes to go to thrift stores to find vintage rings and jewelry, and he has a depop, where he sells some of his finds that he doesn’t really like anymore, and he makes a good amount of cash.

he isn’t that careful with how he treats his outfits, so if they get dirty, or creased, he doesn’t notice until someone points it out, and he still doesn’t care that much.

terushima will drop subtle hints about how fashionable he is in conversations, and if someone gives him a compliment, he will act surprised and say shit like “oh, wow thank you for noticing!” or “this? no, this is just a casual outfit i put together last minute”

bokuto

since he is so energetic, he needs breathable clothes that will let him move around a lot, so he refuses to wear jeans or anything fancy, and will just stick with baggy pants and shirts.

sometimes he goes thrifting with terushima, but he usually ends up knocking over some clothes racks, or going into emo mode because he can’t find something he likes.

akaashi was the one who recommended that he should start dressing better, because before the change, bokuto only wore the highlighter nike fit, and it had to be stopped.

bokuto hates wearing accessories, because he doesn’t like feeling the metal bouncing around when he is running, jumping, or just being himself, so he doesn’t wear any add-ons to his outfits.

ushijima

he hates when outfits aren’t comfortable, and he also likes if they are practical, and can keep him warm, so layers are essential. tendou is the person who recommends more of the “edgy” elements to his outfits.

he’s kinda indifferent about this whole aesthetic thing, like he doesn’t really try to be fashionable, he just wears whatever he wants and he somehow pulls it off.

he doesn’t buy anything expensive, because he believes clothes are something that should be able to get dirty and withstand wear and tear, so he doesn’t get anything fancy, because he doesn’t see the point.

tendou once got him to wear the eboy aesthetic and it was amazing, and tendou got so many pictures, but ushijima didn’t really like it so he won’t wear it again.

kita

he likes the light academia aesthetic, and he is 100% the most put together person on the inarizaki team. he knows how to make an outfit look good, and he is an aesthetic icon.

kita dresses on the more fancy side, so he is careful not to ruin his outfit, because the clothes he buys costs more than other people’s things. whenever possible, he likes to thrift his outfits, and makes sure to disinfect them afterwards.

since he wears so many sweaters that have special washing processes, every sunday he devotes at least 2 hours to give his clothes proper treatment so they don’t get ruined easier.

he gives his teammates fashion advice, because he genuinely thinks that they need it, and he doesn’t realize that it may seem like bragging, so everyone is just like “wow, thanks i guess” and he feels happy that he’s helping them not look basic.

i hope you enjoyed!

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

[adhdeancas]

Hey for prompts, Sam was watching Queer eye and Dean decided to join him for shits but it's the episode where they help a young trans man find himself and Dean has a small breakdown. (Specifically, the not-having-to-be-masc-100%-all-the-time and still be trans, and to still be able to play with clothes and styles)

i went back and watched part of this ep to remind me, that’s why it took me a sec. also took me a sec bc it’s been a WEEK for this trans man and even thinking about a point in which I am read enough as a guy to think about wearing feminine things as a guy gives me... feelings. ANYWAY enough about me, let’s read this

love you friend, hope you like it

Sam watches Queer Eye a while ago, when he was in a slump, and now he saves the episodes for bad days like Dean hoards brownie mixes in the pantry for when he feels really shitty. Dean’s walking past the living room with a beer when he hears somebody say “top surgery” and because he’s a nosy motherfucker, he peeks in. Sure enough, footage of some dude’s surgery is on the screen and Tan France is talking about how he doesn’t know anything about trans people.

Dean snorts and comes in, slumping down onto his chair. Sam looks up at him with a start. “Hate that. Learn your fucking history, dickhead.”

“Don’t call Tan a dickhead.”

“Sh, you’re just protective because you like swiss-tying your shirts or whatever.”

“French tuck.” Sam bitched, well aware Dean was being a jerk on purpose. “Besides, he needs to say it on the show, to learn and all that.”

Dean shrugs and steals a chip from Sam. They’re plantain chips, but they’re salty, so they’re good enough. He grins at the trans guy’s cat pee couch, “Cas would love that.” Sam is excited to learn how to make sushi via Antoni. They both go quiet when Skyler talks to Bobby about how his family didn’t accept him, and Dean draws his knees up to his chest. Unbidden, he knows they’re both thinking about all the shitty things their dad, their family, their hunter friends, random acquaintances have said to them throughout the years, whether knowing it was bad or not. Somehow those comments are never really forgotten. 

On the screen, the same thing is echoed: 

“I was always a really angry kid… because every day of my life, I wore a mask. So when you’re hearing constantly from the people that mean the most to you that what you are is awful…”

“You’re awful.”

“Yeah. And unacceptable. It really does a number on you.”

“Yeah.”

“So I was just pissed all the time.”

Sam clears their throat. 

The episode continues.

Skyler talks about being misgendered during surgery. “Yeah, me too man. You try getting top surgery 20 years ago.” Dean scoffs at the screen. Sam grins at him, like he always does when he talks to the TV. He always teases him that it’s an old man thing to do. 

Tan and Skyler talk about his style. It’s androgynous. “Dean, why don’t you ever wear stuff like that?”

Dean glares at him, looking from the flashy clothes to his brother. “I’m a dude.”

“So is Skyler.”

“Yeah but I’m a guy like…” he tries to think of how to make Sam understand. “I’m a guy like Bobby.” he’d almost said John, but changed last minute. He didn’t want to open that can of worms. He hadn’t worn his dad’s coat in years. 

“I thought you said you liked skirts.”

Dean stares resolutely at the screen, hoping Sam will get the hint. He does, sighing, and returns to the episode. There is an awesome moment where Skyler gets fitted for a suit, and Dean can feel the jealousy coursing through his veins. The baggy Fed suits hanging in his closet come to mind.

Skyler dresses in a sequined blazer and meets Todrick, his gender-bending gay idol, and they share a tearfilled conversation that Sam himself sniffs at. 

“You were so important to my transition, and recognizing that I am feminine and I am masculine, and that gets put into this perfect little ball that is me. But it took me a long time to be okay with that feminine side and seeing another queer man like you that owned all of it and just was so fabulous...”

Dean’s heart is clenching in his chest, and he digs his fingernails into his knees. His mind is stuck on the pair of satin panties he has in his underwear drawer, the pair he’s too afraid to ever wear just in case he got in a massive car accident and they had to cut open his pants or he had to do some emergency plumbing and bend down under the sink. Just in case anyone saw and thought... When the next episode starts, Dean reaches over to grab the remote and pause the TV. Sam looks at him expectantly. “Everyone looks hot in fishnets. Right?”

Sam laughs, but quiets quickly at the serious look on Dean’s face. “Yeah, sure. Everybody looks good in fishnets, I guess. Completely gender inclusive product.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I just don’t-” he stops and works his jaw. Sam seems to get it. They’re used to choosing more conservative choices when he goes out, but when he chooses feminine ones, he relishes in the gender confusion he gives people. Dean just can’t stop thinking about how tiny his waist is or how big his hips are. How much of him shows. The idea that someone might confuse him for a girl. Again. 

“Yeah. I know.” Sam says softly. 

Dean nods. Nothing to do about it. “Guess I just have to quit being such a pussy, don’t I. Let people think what they think.”

“Other people perceiving you as a man doesn’t make you a man, Dean. Same way it doesn’t make me one.” Sam nudges his leg with his socked foot, and Dean reluctantly looks him in the eyes. “You’re a man. Even if you wear a skirt. Or fishnets.”

Dean clears his throat and stands up. “Yeah, I know.”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure Cas thinks fishnets are hot too.”

“Fuck you.” Dean bursts out laughing and stands up. “Alright… maybe.”

He can still hear Sam laughing as he continues down the hallway.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - The thought that counts

Troy

Calypso is a bizarre, very weird man who's concept of a "gift" can be some hot drink Ven brought for him to a late night meeting, the time JK handed him a slightly rusted 1/4 socket wrench they'd spotted on a scrap pile while patrolling the slums and recalled him saying he'd have to ask Sei for the day before, or a photo of a flower Eli saw and sent on an incognito chat line.

What he considers gifts aren't usually that tangible so aren't things he can show to others, but there are some actual gifts he's held onto for far too long and people are fucking sick of being shown.

You ever see a coffee cup that hasn't been washed in eight years??

Well his friends have. Weekly.

Ty had "made it" for him in their first year planet-side, a shitty white .50c mug she'd crudely painted "Best Bro, lol" on in now peeling enamel. He knows it was a joke, but it doesn't change how that stupid gross mug has made him feel when things have been so bad that he's spent nights rolling it gently between a flesh and metal hand, reassuring himself with memories of the good times.

I mean he.. he cleans it, he rinses it out, but if he washed it properly the paint would just come straight off and that ain't happening. He drinks so much coffee. The poor thing gets refilled 4, 5 times a night sometimes, it's VILE looking. Brown and black stains, more rings than a felled steelwood tree running down the inside..

Ven hates it. Sei hates it. Eli smiles and tries not to die when he sees it. JK FUCKING LOVES IT. That mug is more Troy to them then his cruel prosthetic is, that mug is the most Troy thing on his damn ship.

Seifa has "politely" insisted on sealing it for him so he CAN wash it, but she's been told with frightening clarity that she’s not allowed near it. Leave it alone, it's fine.

Ven joke gifted him a pair of cursed-text booty shorts after two years of seeing The Holy Father’s ass crack daily and feeling his soul leave his body every time.

Troy took it as part insult / part challenge and made sure to actually wear them around Ven and make sure the other man was aware.

It went from hitching his pants just low enough in public to show their hem and smirking as they were recognised, to just straight up wearing them instead of his usual baggy harem pants some nights when he knew Ven would be spending a few hours in Sanctum.

Sei was completely in on this and acted nonchalant as her friend would desperately try to look around the room for support as his life-force withered while having to sit next to his boss in cursed hotpants and everyone else treating it like it was completely normal.

That stopped when Sei wasn't around, that kind of bullshit just didn't feel right.

He still has them though. They'll.. make a return one day, and Ven won't be ready.

Seifa

On the gift front, she's got 2 modes

1 - Extremely expensive item of value:

Munny. Nice. Highly appreciates it but won't from a personal level ( unless it's also exceptionally catered to her like very carefully chosen jewelry ). She'll secure it somewhere behind lock and key in her ship, and take it out to fondle on her floor like a goblin if she's feeling down.

Sei won't use any expensive gifts for fear of somehow "wasting" then, a weird after effect of poverty and a knife edge upbringing, but she'll cover herself in platinum and diamonds AT HOME while watching bullshit on the E-Net and drinking wine. Think Jenna Marbles leeeshuring. Only does this in private, it's some odd way of enjoying the things she's been given without fear of somehow devaluing them. She's fuckin weird. She is a weird person, she's just very close to even weirder monster twins and they distract a lot of attention from her strangeness.

2 - Piece of shit someone found in a flea market and thought of her or made for her poorly:

What the fuck. What the fuck. Treasure. Will go all red eyed and mouth wobbly when given it, won't know what the hell to say. Will use / wear / show it off daily. Will proudly point out gifts like this in her ship to visitors, go over who gave it to her, where it's from, what that person means to her, everything.

If it's wearable it will be patched into or worn with her best outfits bar ceremonial garb. She's covered in little mementos of friends and colleagues she takes massive comfort from by having close to her at all times, 'specially as some are too far away to see that often, or aren't around at all anymore.

The pendant Ven surprised her with has found its way into almost every ensemble she wears, it's on next to scrap chains and fool’s gold when she's elbow deep in a Mechanicum's process machine's axle oil, and it's on when she's dripping in platinum and faux giggling at a gala. This is... noticed by Troy, who is silently aware of how the shockingly expensive jewelry he's been gifting her for years remains stashed in lockboxes around her ship while Ven's bit of glass rarely leaves her skin. He finds it harder to ignore the blue-green glint of it far more than he'd want anyone to know.

He sent her a droid, years ago. She picked it up from a holding dock in a grimy but carefully packaged parcel and loved it at first sight. Tiny little hive-drone, smaller than her fist and mashed together from what looked like scrap - ancient LED screen able to just about render a simple smiley face with oversized pixels. A chicken scratch note about how they were doing well, things had been going great and they'd really started to find their footing now. 

Lines about Tyreen being a pain in the ass, how he'd been having fun with this stuff - droids, that she'd been right that he should try messing around with the amount of scrap bots you could find in any junkpile across Pandora. Said he'd made this for her because he remembered her ship had no V.I. network and how half the rec-room was covered in notes she'd end up having to take to keep on top of deals and interesting tips. This little floating ball could link with her E-Dev and convert audio into notes, calender bookings, maybe make her life a bit easier? Cause she had made theirs easier, him and Ty's, hadn't she. He wanted to give her something back. When would she be touching down again anyway? Been nearly a year since they’d left her ship to make a name for themselves.. and he had a lot to show her...

She still uses that little droid daily, chats idly to it as it sits on her office desk in the Mechanicum, blinking crude emojis at her as it happily translates Sei’s cranky mutters into a schedule that makes her life just a bit easier.

JK's silent hand over of something heavy and palm sized wrapped so beautifully in patterned cloth had keyed her in on not opening it till she was alone, but that prescription lens...

Fitted so carefully onto a hinged frame she knew at a glance would socket over her favored welding goggles? The crude but confident metal work, the tiny flicks of coloured paint she recognised and warmed her heart immediately? That asshole.. that beautiful, clever bastard.

Said nothing, knew she didn't need to, but it's been YEARS and she still notices the slight puff to their chest and way they straighten a little taller when they spot it perched over her right eye.

Asks are open!

[parkersharthook]

Fashion Headcanon

the fashion hc that no one asked for... (think college age)

Aang

Aang is all about comfort mixed with practicality and a hint of fashion/trendiness

Most days you’ll find him in athletic shorts or sweatpants in neutral tones like gray or white, with a plain tee

He also lives in his yellow high tops that are more dirt than yellow at this point. They’re super worn in and comfortable for him now, but it’s unusual to see him without them

But when he needs to dress up for events or dates or whatever, he likes to look nice but still casual

His idea of dressing up would be khaki pants (maybe joggers for casual dates) with a white button down/polo

One time he showed up to an event in his yellow converse so Katara got him some nice brown dress boots so he has /options/

You’ll also never find him in any cool tones, he loves warm colors (yellows, oranges, reds)

He’s overall a pretty happy and chill guy and that reflects in his clothing but he still has a grasp on what is acceptable in certain situations and definitely dresses appropriately

For the most part he just looks really snuggly and soft

Katara

Katara also really values comfort but she takes a little more pride in her appearance

For everyday wear she’ll usually wear jeans of some kind (usually distressed and mom style) but she’ll still look put together

If she’s wearing her blue jeans, she’ll pair them with a loose band tee that’s either cropped, tied in the front, or tucked in precisely (she loves showing the waist of her pants)

If she’s wearing black/white jeans, she’ll wear a blue shirt. She prefers navy and darker tones of blue but she has a quite a few in pastel as well

Sometimes the shirts are just tshirts, but sometimes they’re a little tighter and trendier to help her dress up the outfit

For the most part she lives in her doc martens, and she finds them to be both practical and adorable

However for fancier events she pops off

She’ll dress up in satin dresses that are navy and fall just below her knee or will wear white corduroy skirts with cute flowy tops

She has platform sneakers for when it’s not too fancy but she also has a lot of heels and sandals in neutral colors

Even though Katara does like to look good, because it makes her feel good, she isn’t too overly worried about her appearance

However in most people’s eyes, she never looks bad and walks with an effortless beauty that makes all her outfits look great

Sokka

Sokka lives for practical clothing

He wears basketball shorts almost every day (unless it’s cold and then he wears sweatpants) with a  hoodie or plain tee

While he’s not out naked, he definitely doesn’t really put that much effort into his day to day look

But honestly he doesn’t really need to because Sokka is a hottie who wows everyone he meets

But he also works out a lot and works with his hands, so practical clothing is generally the only thing he thinks is appropriate

When he’s working on something a little more hands on, he’ll wear denim to protect his skin and he doesn’t really care if they get ruined, because they’re his work pants

However when he dresses up… he is a stunner

He’ll wear form fitting pants that show off his toned thighs and butt. They’ll usually be either dark blue or black dress pants

He pairs that with a usually white (occasionally a lighter blue or black) dress shirt that is typically rolled up to his elbows but that’s good because his forearms

Despite the fact that he usually wears sneakers or boots every day, his shoe collection is pretty impressive because he’s a prepared man. So he wears nicer polo shoes or low cut brown boots to pull together the look

People never really expect Sokka to look as fine as he does at those events, because they’re used to seeing him very casual and comfy

But even though people think Sokka doesn’t care about his appearance, he does… he just doesn’t like to waste time on work/school days when he could sleep a little more

But when he can actually get dressed up, he kinda lives for it

For the most part, Sokka dresses how he pleases and doesn’t let others tell him what to do with himself

But he’s comfortable in his style and in his skin which makes him confident

Toph

Toph grew up with overbearing parents who dictated how she dressed, and so when she began to live on her own she really wanted to explore other styles and options

For a while she experimented with casual fancy styles like sundresses and skirts and such. And honestly she really likes them and thinks they’re cute, but not for day to day

She then evolved into more of a skater, tomboy look which she really rocks

She has a wide range of jean, khaki, and athletic shorts that she pairs with simple shirts

Her shirts are usually band tees, or plain colors and she really likes earth tones

She has likes oversized outerwear, like big flannels, hoodies, or bombers that kind of swallow her frame

She prefers shorts but when she wears pants, it’s usually sweatpants or yoga pants. She doesn’t like her bottoms to be too tight and restricting because she likes to have full range of motion, so if they’re tight they have to be stretchy

Also she kicks the bottom of all her shoes out so she can see (yes bending exists here and she’s blind bc I say so), but she mainly wears canvas sneakers like vans or low converses

Because she experimented early on with her outfits, when she has to dress up she really likes casual sundresses

Sometimes she’ll wear a jean skirt, but none of her dresses or skirts will be tight

She’s not necessarily trying to hid her body/curves but she’s just so much more comfortable in loose/flowy clothing and it still looks really good on her

Even at fancier events, she’ll wear sneakers because sandals don’t really work without bottoms and heels are a fat no

She has “nicer” sneakers that she keeps clean for those events but for the most part she has an excuse and a comeback to anyone who tries to diss her shoes

Like Sokka, she’s pretty comfortable in her clothing and doesn’t put too much effort into it

However, because of all the years she spent with her parents where she had zero options, it isn’t uncommon to see Toph trying the newest trends as soon as they come out, to see if she vibes with them or not

Zuko

Like Toph, Zuko was also forced to dress in a certain way due to his familial upbringing

In contrast though, he found a way to express himself through his clothes while still fitting into the expectations placed on him

Zuko lives in dark clothes. The only sense of color he has are dark red shirts/hoodies, one pair of grey sweatpants, and a deep navy shirt he stole from Sokka

Everything else is black

But that doesn’t mean they’re all boring and the same

A lot of his clothing has small details woven into the seams which shows that Zuko puts a lot of effort into the clothing he puts on

He mostly wears black jeans but he has a huge range of styles including skinny, distressed, boyfriend, baggy, and straight legged

He tends to focus on the bottom half more, styling his outfit around his pants and then pairing a simple tee

Kinda imagine an eboy vibe but more chill

He wears converses, vans, or other flat sneakers for the most part

When he needs to dress up, he still sticks to dark tones

His go to is black dress pants that are pretty tight and either a black or red button up

He has a few suits from growing up but he loathes them with a passion and prefers to look casual when dressing up

Zuko likes to put effort into his appearance because it helps channel his energy and he thinks that if he looks presentable, people will be less likely to judge him on his past or his scar

He gets pretty self-conscious and insecure when he tries new things, and it’ll take him a while to expand his closet into other styles

He’s comfortable with his look and he isn’t too keen on trying new things but he isn’t completely opposed

Suki

Suki, much like Katara, has this look of effortless beauty

However for her, she does put effort into her outfit pretty much everyday

She also wears earth tones for the most part, but her closet does have a large variety

On the day to day she’ll wear skinny jeans, yoga pants, or athletic shorts with a cute top

Though her clothes aren’t that fancy, she matches them all really well and her makeup is always impeccable

Her top selection is bigger and is made up of mostly cropped tees and tighter crop tops

However, her guilty pleasure is large sweaters and hoodies that she’s stolen from her guy friends and it’s pretty common to find her styling those with jeans and cute shoes

She also has a pair of red high tops, that much like Aang, she has worn down to the point where they’re more dirt than anything

And while she doesn’t wear them every day, they’re definitely a staple in her closet

But suki honestly lives for platform sneakers, they don’t have to be super tall but anything that gives her a little lift makes her that much more confident

When she dresses up, she shares a lot of the same styles with Toph

She really likes sundresses with sneakers, or rompers with sandals

However when she really has to get fancy, she’ll wear longer dresses that fall below her knee or all the way to the floor with a pair of heels and she’ll be feeling herself

Suki is overall pretty adventurous with her outfits, but she also knows what she likes

She’ll try the new trends and take suggestions from her friends, but she’s also not scared to say no and go comfy yet put together for a day

She’s one of those girls that kinda looks great in everything and people really wish they had her closet but half the time she’s borrowing things from friends to piece together outfits

Yue

Yue loves clothes

Simple as that

She grew up with money, but without the overbearing parents and she’s always had an affinity for dressing up and following the new trends as well as the older ones

She finds that waking up and making herself look good, gets her ready for the day and helps put her into the right headspace

She also lives for light pastels, typically of the cooler hues but sometimes she’ll venture into the pinks and reds

On the day to day she’ll wear either light blue or white bottoms (you name it: skirts, shorts, pants, whatever) and a plain shirt

A lot of her clothing has lace on it, it’s just something that Yue really likes

And all the light colors look amazing against her dark skin

She wears chunky sneakers or flats mostly, because they’re cute but also comfortable to walk in

She also usually has an accessory, whether it be a purse, sunglasses, or a cute bandana, she likes to add little things that pull her outfit together

She definitely looks better than most on the day to day because she really enjoys looking nice

However she still has the skill of not looking overdressed

When she dresses up, she looks ethereal

Like Katara, she likes satin and silk a lot because it’s comfy and soft and often falls effortlessly

She tends to wear dresses that are just at her knee or are tea length, and doesn’t really like floor length dresses

The only really short stuff she wears are her skirts and shorts

She also really likes heels when she’s dressing up, and a slit in her dress to show off her legs

She’s super confident in her style and definitely loves finding inspiration from her friends, strangers, magazines and wherever she can find it

She also always looks amazing, even when she is dressed casually

Azula

Surprisingly, Azula isn’t really that flamboyant with her style

She likes simple looks like jeans and tshirts or a simple dress

She, like Zuko, wears darker colors but has a plethora of pink in her wardrobe because of TyLee

On the day to day she’s often wearing simple black jeans, a band tee or just a hoodie with doc martens

People find it surprising because Azula comes across as a big personality, and she definitely is around her friends, but she just isn’t that interested in fashion

She prefers to focus her energy and time on self-care like her nails, hair, and skin

Both Mai and TyLee are into fashion so Azula does let them dress her up and down for fun, but for the most part she’s pretty simple

For dressing up, she’s very simple

She’ll wear either a black or red dress, usually that falls just above or just below her knee

She likes a straight neckline but has few options (strapless, halter, etc)

And she’ll pair the dress with a simple black heel, not too many straps

She does like tall heels, it helps with her confidence, but they aren’t very flashy

Despite her basic style, she does understand the importance of looking presentable and doesn’t usually wear baggy clothing

She’s found a pretty good balance between casual, basic, but still presentable

basically she doesn’t need a boisterous closet because she is very talkative and loud with her friends, so she doesn’t feel the need to overcompensate with her clothing or anything

Mai

in complete opposite to Azula, Mai LOVES showing her personality through her clothes

she isn’t very talkative and instead likes to show her mood with her outfits

though she does wear dark colors, she’ll experiment with others

when she’s feeling sad, she covers up. She likes long sleeves, even if they are mesh or transparent, and long jeans with boots

She’s a slut for peasant sleeves (but I mean… me too)

when she’s happy, she’ll wear red or pink. She’ll stick with either jeans or a jean skirt that’s dark but she’ll pair it with a baggy dusty pink or vibrant red shirt that she tucks in. she’ll also wear trendier sneakers on those days (but they’ll probably still be boots)

when’s she’s feeling really good or adventurous she’ll dress more colorful. The style itself is pretty basic: jeans and a shirt, but she’ll wear her blue mom jeans. She’ll pair it with her purple doc martens and a white shirt with a different colored jacket

however it’s the days that she wears sweats, leggings and hoodies that she receives the most attention. The attention is always from her friends because on those days, she’s either feeling very comfortable in her surroundings and they want to talk to her, or she’s had a shit day and they want to help her feel better

when dressing up, she likes to wear black with fun accents like buckles or ribbons or fun sleeves or zippers or lace or anything like that

she’s pretty tall, so she doesn’t often wear heels but she’ll wear fishnet tights and tuck them into some boots or she’ll wear flats

she does tend to wear clothes that are tighter and then pair them with baggy outerwear to offset the outfit

she does wear a lot of boots but she has them in a bunch of different colors for every emotion and outfit

people are pretty envious of her wardrobe and while she doesn’t really talk and isn’t that confident in herself, she’s always been sure of her style

she also really enjoys dressing her friends up and swapping styles to try to make new outfits

TyLee

TyLee also loves clothes

she’s pretty girly and used clothing from an early age to set herself apart from not only her sisters but also from society

in today’s terms she’d be a soft girl with a hint of vsco

there’s a lot of pinks, reds, purples, whites, and other pastels in her wardrobe

she tries to avoid dark tones because she thinks they wash her out

she’s also very bubbly and upbeat for the most part and likes to convey that in her outfits

she wears a lot of tennis skirts, plaid skirts, paper bag shorts, and other stuff that kinda looks like it came from a teen movie

she doesn’t really like pants but if she does wear them, they’ll be loose and typically have a paper bag waistline

and they’ll definitely be high waisted no matter what

her tops are typically crop top tanks or fuzzy sweaters that are just a tad too big

she also really likes to wear long cardigans and sweaters that fall below her hemline

every day she wears a white shoe

they’ll either be chunky sneakers, vans, sandals, high tops, or something else but they’ll definitely be white

people really don’t know how she keeps them clean

when she dresses up, she’ll wear tighter clothes but then offset them with a long or bigger jacket and sneakers

she hates heels

she thinks they are so uncomfortable and prefers sneakers or sandals

TyLee does like trying new stuff but she’s also really comfortable with her current style and isn’t that interested in trying a whole ton of new stuff

she also really likes dressing other people up, both in her own style and in theirs

she’s pretty confident in her clothes but her insecurities definitely bleed through sometimes, but she always tries to be happy no matter what and that definitely comes through in her clothes

hehe that’s it :)

[nonstoplover]

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 2.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.7K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (a different one than this written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 1.0, the original idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage.

"Really?" He muttered to the device in his hand in disbelief. The closest one was about an hour away. It would take forever for a breakdown truck to come here for him.

He contemplated waiting for a little while, see if it went back to normal, maybe he could drive to the garage himself if the situation got better. The two sides in his mind reasoned against each other non-stop as he tried to figure out what was the best solution.

In the deep thinking he was doing he didn't hear the sound of an approaching vehicle from behind him until the image of it in the rearview mirror caught his eyes and the engine's roar entering his ears couldn't be mistaken.

He watched the slightly worn-out jeep get to him frozen in his seat, the idea to somehow stop it and ask the driver to tow him to the garage forming in his head but he did nothing to carry it out, still surprised by the sudden appearance of another car on the road.

The jeep passed him with reduced speed before eventually pulling up short in front of his car. Timothée's eyes widened as the car door opened and someone jumped out of the vehicle. His fingers shakily searched for the handle so he could get out on the road as well.

When he straightened his back and his eyes fell back on the approaching person he was taken aback by the sight. A beautiful girl around his age wearing a well-worn pair of jean shorts and a baggy, retro t-shirt, a worried expression on her face.

"Is everything alright?" She spoke up, rambling on without a pause, not even waiting for a reply from the boy. "I saw you parking here and I was thinking maybe you're just taking a break from driving but I was like, it's better to check if something's wrong."

Gosh, stop rattling, (y/n) thought to herself. You're not making a very nice first impression right now.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Timothée answered subvonsciously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before realising what he had just said, then swiftly shook his head and corrected himself. "I mean, no, not everything's fine. There's a little smoke coming out of my engine hood and the closest service station is quite far and I don't really know what to do."

Hearing the boy answer with a similar amount of gabbling slightly calmed the girl down, he probably found the situation quite odd likewise.

"Can I look at it?" She pointed at the car.

"Look at...?" He frowned in confusion. Why would she want to look at it? "I mean, sure, if you wanna."

"Great!" She half-exclaimed, already making her way towards the car, opening the car hood, her torso disappearing in it fully in no time.

Timothée watched her shocked, he was sure that the process would've taken a minute or even more for him, still the girl did it like it was nothing extraordinary.

"Okay, I think I know what's the problem, and lucky for you I happen to have the needed equipment with me," she straightened back up, turning back towards the boy.

He watched her pass him on her way back to her car and after a little packing around she got out a toolbox from the trunk and made her way to the other car again, swinging the tools in her hand like it's no big deal that she kept such things in her car.

She casted a glance at the brown haired boy, a chuckle erupting from her throat when she saw the expression on his face.

"My dad owns a service in my hometown and he taught me how to repair the most common problems," she explained, placing the box down on the ground as she reached the car. "And he has always insisted on me carrying around a toolbox in my own car in case anything happens."

Timothée felt his jaw drop to the ground in surprise and was quite thankful that the girl had already turned back towards the engine with a tool he could have sworn he had never seen in her hand, this way not seeing his reaction.

In his mind flashbacks of high school and even college parties and talks played non-stop as he watched her work. All his life, at least the part where dating was already a subject, he always told everyone that if he had ever dated a girl, it'd be an independent, smart and skilled woman. Someone who could fix anything whether it was changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And as it seemed in that moment, the girl he had always been describing was standing right in front of him. All he knew was that he couldn't let her slip away now that he found her.

"Okay, I think it's done. Can I sit in and start it to see how it is?" Her voice awoke him from his thinking.

"Yeah, sure."

On the way to the car door (y/n) tried to clean her oil-stained hands as good as she could with more or less success, pressing her skin in the worn jean material on the front of her thighs before climbing in the car. The engine growled loudly a moment later, and they both waited curiously if smoke's going to appear again.

When nothing happened, the young girl swiftly got out of the car, leaving the engine going as she approached the boy again.

"Would it be alright if I took it for a tiny ride? I wanna see if the smoke comes back after using it again," she explained. "I'll leave my car key and wallet and all my stuff with you as warrant."

Pulling the mentioned things out of her jean pockets, (y/n) held it out towards him, waiting for a response. He silently nodded, a bit taken aback by the sudden suggestion but eventually taking the stuff from her, watching as she got in his car again, passing him and speeding off into the distance.

Maybe he was foolish to trust someone this easily, but she left all her belonging with him, why would she run away, stealing his car? Otherwise, she had a pretty nice car herself, compared to his older, simple car even the (already dried) mud-stained jeep seemed fancy.

It took all self-control he had in himself not to open her wallet and search for her ID so he could learn her name, but it felt wrong, finding it out without her knowledge. He could just ask her when she got back.

The figure of his car started growing again, signaling that she had turned around and started driving back, and indeed his car arrived back to the starting point a few minutes later. The girl carefully wheeled the car around so it faced its original direction again before stopping the engine and getting out.

"It's working absolutely alright by far. And even if it somehow starts doing it again, you'll get close to the garage by then."

"Wow," he muttered, feeling speechless. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I'm glad I could help," the girl leant down to pack her equipment laying on the ground.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, no, nothing. You don't have to pay me for this. I'm not even a professional," she quickly straightened her back, laughing at his suggestion as her hands waved it away.

"But I feel like I should pay you, you deserve something in exchange for stopping even though you didn't have to and offering to repair my car. And actually repairing it."

"No, really, please. I'm doing this because I like helping people, what is more people who happen to need my special knowledge about fixing car problems."

"Then at least let me buy you dinner or something in the nearest diner. If you have the time and would like to do so, of course."

Smooth, she thought giddily, watching him nervously creasing the hem of his shirt. The thought that such an attractive young man would be interested in a girl like her felt extra heartwarming.

"Okay, I can accept that," she giggled in the end.

"Amazing!" Timothée exclaimed, heart bursting with happiness that his sudden and absolutely not thought over plan worked out well.

"Then, are we gonna drive separately and stop at the first diner that comes in sight?" (y/n) visualised the scene appearing in her head.

"Yeah, probably," he chuckled. "Though what do you think about exchanging phone numbers and staying in a call while we drive there?"

"Great idea!" (y/n) grinned at him, amusement in her eyes. The boy truly had some pretty good thoughts in his head.

They both pulled out their mentioned smart devices from their pockets and switched them, typing in their respective numbers before saying temporary goodbyes and climbing inside their own cars. Just in time with (y/n)'s engine starting roaring, her phone in her hand started ringing.

She glanced at the screen for a short moment before erupting in loud laughter as her eyes took in the nickname he set for himself.

"Heya, Timmy T," she answered suggestively, still giggling, making the boy let out a chuckle as well.

"Hi, (y/n)," he answered a second later. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

(y/n) tapped on her screen to put the call on speaker before putting the device down and slowly starting make the car roll forward. Glancing in the rearview mirror she made sure the boy was following her before picking up a faster speed.

For the next two hours they went from the first small talk to deeper, more serious subjects, getting to know the other more. Minutes spent with laughing loudly or silently listening to the other's stories went by.

In the first half an hour Timothée sped up out of nowhere and caught up to (y/n)'s car in the opposing traffic's lane so they could cast momentarily glances at each other until another car appeared on the road and the boy had to slow back down to swerve back in the normal lane behind her car.

The strange but nice attraction they both felt towards each other only grew stronger with every passing minute and by the time they arrived to the first diner in their way, they were already something close to best friends, or maybe even more.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[simsadventures]

Only Mine: Chapter 8: Introductions

Summary: Bucky takes you to the mansion, to introduce you to the whole crew, but there are a few guys that you aren’t too happy about

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, swearing, mobster au, mafia au

Word Count: 2873

A/N: I just wanted to say that in my fic Peter is 22, so not a canon, just FYI. I also tried a new thing, instead of a gif I created my own collage for this chapter. What do you think? GIFs or Collages? Let me know :) What do we think of the reader’s suspicions? This is also a little filler chapter, and sorry for the long wait. You know, Christmas and all of that :)

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

True to his words, when a month’s mark hit, you were still snuggled against his side in your apartment. You still never talked about his work, and you didn’t necessarily complain. You knew that it was some dark shit, and that was all you needed. He never came to you in such a bad mood as that day you first gave in, but your relationship, if you could call it that, was blooming.

You didn’t really want to go out of your apartment for entirely selfish reasons. You knew what reputation Bucky had in the town, and you didn’t need to be seen as one of those girls. You were in love with Bucky, that much you were sure of, but the world didn’t know that your relationship was much more than running around and showing off. And they would judge you accordingly, for which you weren’t ready. Not yet.

Bucky tried to take you to his favourite restaurants, but until now, you were able to hold him off, telling him that you rather stayed at home and do other things. He was always more than ready to comply with your wishes and stayed, but you could see the confusion and small amount of anger growing behind his eyes.

It was Friday night when he came to you, and while he was wearing a suit and a shirt, looking like a true gentleman, which made your insides quiver, you were sitting there, in your old jeans and a baggy shirt.

“Doll, c’mon, Get ready, and we can have a nice dinner out, enjoy the night fully.”

You scrunched your nose and shook your head. “Nah, how about we order in and have a nice night in, hm? I could even eat naked,” you said seductively and began to strip, but Bucky’s hand stopped your movement.

“Why don’t you ever want to go out with me? Are you ashamed of me and who I am?” Bucky asked, hurt evident in his voice.

You looked at him, and instead of the big mafia boss everyone was afraid of, there was a little boy in front of you, staring at you with pain in his eyes, pouting slightly. You suddenly felt ashamed and stupid. You didn’t even realise that he could think you didn’t want to be seen with him for who he was.

“No, no, that’s not it, James. I just… I don’t want people to think that I’m one of those girls, you know? That I’m with you to gain something of it. That I like you just because you are kind of famous here in New York. People will assume the worst, and I don’t want that. I like that it’s just us, without the pressures of the world. And also, I don’t want you becoming as you were, when we’re out,” you whispered the last part and hid your face in your palms. You knew you were being childish, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You could feel Bucky moving so that he was sitting nearer, and when you thought nothing was gonna happen, you felt his hand on your wrist.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

You removed your hands reluctantly but kept your eyes trained on the couch underneath you. Bucky wasn’t having any of it and raised your chin with his fingers. His look was much more inviting now, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I didn’t realise that you would feel bad because of my reputation, but you shouldn’t worry about that. You know that you’re not like those girls to me, and that’s all that matters, right? And how exactly am I acting out?” He smirked a little, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“They all see you as this arrogant mobster, ready to kill everyone in his sight, which I know would still happen if someone misspoke about you, but with me, you’re different. You’re my James here, and you have the sweetest touches and just… I don’t want you to treat me, even if it is just for show like I’m some whore. But I realise that you cannot show people your softer side. It just… sucks sometimes,” you sighed, wanting to hide again, but Bucky didn’t let you this time. He picked you up gently, sitting you on his lap.

“You’re right, I cannot be as soft as I’m here, people would use it against me. I think that even some of my men would use it against me, but that’s beside the point. I’ve got an idea. We’ll change the setting a little, but it’ll still be just us, what do you say?”

You searched his face and frowned a little. “I’m not going to your fucking apartment if that’s what you’re implying.”

He laughed and shook his head, winking at you. “I’m aware that you’re not ever stepping a foot there, doll. I’m thinking of a different place. I wanted to take you there for quite some time, and I think I finally got the courage to do so.”

You cocked a brow at him. “The courage? Since when do you need to find the courage to do something?”

He scoffed and patted your thigh. “Shut it, and go get ready. We’ll be spending a night there so pack accordingly.”

You rolled your eyes at him and his bossy tone but got up anyway. You knew better than to fight him on such a small thing. You didn’t really know where you were going, but you hoped that Bucky understood why you had an issue with going out just yet, and so you tried to calm your nerves. It would all be alright.

You packed just a light bag, only toiletries, PJs, even if you knew that you probably wouldn’t need it, with Bucky’s appetite, and a pair of jeans and t-shirt for next day morning. You changed into very flimsy lingerie that you bought just a few days ago. It was red and almost entirely see-through, and the second you saw it, you knew Bucky would enjoy it as much as you did. You put on a tight red dress, accentuated your hips and chest, you two biggest assets. You re-did your make up, trying to look a little more like human than house garbage.

It was almost an hour later that you finally got out of your room, Bucky looking spectacularly pissed. But when he turned his head and opened his mouth, probably to ask you what was taking you so fucking long (you could even hear him in your mind), no sound left his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dry.

He took you all in, looking like his dream, all sultry and beautiful. His eyes darkened, and you could see that his mind was suddenly less on going out and more on stripping you off your clothes and devouring your body all night long.

Bucky stood up from the couch and marched towards you, pulling you into his defined chest and kissing you breathless. You could feel his hands splayed on your thighs, travelling north. You quickly grabbed his wrist, and he gave you a dissatisfied growl.

“I wanted to stay here and eat naked, but you were dead set on going out. This is my going out outfit, and I wish it stays on me at least till we dined.”

Bucky groaned into your neck and kneaded your ass. “I’m not sure if I can wait that long, Y/N. You shouldn’t have worn something so sexy, I won’t be able to think all night.”

You smirked and kissed his cheek, getting out of his embrace and towards your door. “You can train your self-control, my dear. Let’s go, I’m getting hungry, and not only for food.”

The sound that came deep out of Bucky’s chest was something between groan and growl, and it sent shivers down your spine.

—-

The car ride was joyful. You paid no attention to Bucky and his boring stares, instead, you talked with Peter who was driving you to the place Bucky was adamant not to disclose. Peter was such a sweet kid that you had to wonder why he was involved with the mafia in the first place. You could imagine him going to University. You thought he still had more than enough time to do so, but you knew you had no say in all of that.

Bucky wasn’t enjoying the ride as much as you did. All he wanted to do was to strip you of that provocative dress and have your way with you. But no, he had to be an idiot and insist on going out. He was now sitting in the car, pissed at himself and at Peter, who was being a friendly asshole as always and to top it all you were having too much fun without him for his liking. Bucky was a jealous man, and he didn’t realise what he was doing by bringing you to where he was bringing you.

When a colossal mansion appeared in your window, you stopped mid-sentence and just stared. It was beautiful. It was elegant with huge windows in some of which lights were lit. You were pretty sure your mouth was hanging open, but you didn’t care. You abruptly turned to Bucky and gave him a confused look before you turned to your window again to stare at the beauty.

Bucky chuckled slightly, happy that you were still as confused as when you two left your apartment. There was a little nagging voice in his head, questioning this move of his, but he couldn’t feel more confident in bringing you to his house. Not his apartment, which most of the city saw, let’s be honest. This was truly his home.

He never brought a girl there, not intentionally anyway. There were few instances of him sleeping with women he was supposed to have a meeting with, but that was beside the point. There has never been a woman that he’d willingly and consciously brought to his home, to get to know him better.

His maid, Magda, was instructed to cook dinner for Bucky and his guest, and he knew that the old lady, being with him ever since he was a little child would have her eyes and ears open just to see who this guest was.

“Where-where are we, Bucky?” You asked incredulously, still amazed by the palace in front of you.

“I promised not to bring you to my apartment, and I intend to keep that promise. This is something more for me, this is my home. And I would like to show you around.”

Bucky was watching your every move and change of emotions on your face. He could see the disbelief, the relief, the excitement, he could see it all. Peter, meanwhile, opened your door and the two of you got out of the car. Bucky, ever the gentleman (well… ever with you, anyway) almost ran around the car to help you out, and he held out a hand for you to grab.

The inside of the house was even more spectacular than the outside. Everything was modern but elegant and simplistic. You could see the house was divided into quarters. Down on your right, everything looked a little darker and more office-like. Bucky was taking you through the rooms telling you where was what. The offices, meeting rooms and such (also the dungeons, but you politely refused to see those) were in the down right quarter.

Down left, space was devoted to a huge kitchen where an older lady called Magda was standing and smiling at you. Behind the kitchen and the vast dining room was what Bucky called the common room with multiple couches and armchairs. It looked really comfortable and here were seated first few of Bucky’s men.

They introduced themselves as Sam and Steve, names you already heard from Bucky’s stories.

“We’re glad to finally officially meet you, Y/N. This idiot right here won’t shut up about you, but damn, he didn’t do you justice. You’re one juicy piece,” Sam hollered, and it earned him a jab to his ribs by Bucky. You stifled a laugh, but when Steve punched Bucky stomach, and they all started to hit each other as if they were 5 year-olds, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Could you two idiots act like adults at least this time? I want to show my lady around.”

Whoops and cheers came from the two guys, and Bucky only sent them death glares before he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of there. He didn’t need his friends ogling you any more.

This quarter of the house also had a huge gym, in which few guys were again, and you were introduced to all of them. You could see that the interaction between Bucky and Steve and Sam was exceptional because when he introduced you to Luke and others, his tone and posture changed from friend to mafia boss. You didn’t comment on it, because you knew it was pointless.

The upper floor was much more personal. The people that lived in the mansion had their left-wing, all for themselves. Some of them were standing by their doors, and you greeted each one of them. And then there was Bucky’s wing. It included a luxurious bedroom, his own private dining room, master bathroom, which you thought was as big as your whole apartment with Nat. There was also his personal library and to that connected office, to which only his men had access.

Overall the house was insane, and you knew you’d enjoy spending your time with Bucky there. The bed looked exceptionally spacious and comfortable. Definitely much better than your Ikea queen-sized one.

You were coming down the stairs with Bucky to ask Magda when your food would be ready (Bucky was mainly curious if he had enough time for some fun times), and that was when you met last of Bucky’s men. Both of them were huge and muscly. One of them had tattoo sleeves, and even some tattoos on his neck, short hair and a deathly stare. The other one had no visible tattoos, but his face wasn’t any more inviting.

“Y/N, this is Brock Rumlow and Bob Johnson, probably the last of my men you haven’t yet met. Guys, this is Y/N.”

They both nodded, but the sly smiles on their lips made you shiver uncomfortably. Until then, all of the guys seemed friendly and welcoming, at least for mobsters, but these two gave you the creeps. They were the type you’d be afraid to meet walking home at night. You made a mental note never to wander around the mansion alone because these two seemed like they didn’t care that you obviously came with their boss. They were shamelessly ogling your ass and your breasts, one of them even licking their lips at the sight of you.

Bucky seemed to have noticed how uncomfortable you were, so he nodded at them and continued his way down to the kitchen.

You still couldn’t shake off the weird feeling that settled somewhere deep inside you after meeting Brock and Bob, and even after the beautiful dinner Magda made for the two of you, you were unsettled.

“What is going on, doll? I can hear the thoughts in your mind racing,” he whispered to your ear and put a hand on your bare thigh.

“Nothing, I’m probably just overreacting, you know? Maybe if you took my mind off everything, it wouldn’t be as loud.”

He smirked and pushed his hand under your dress, massaging your hip. “Oh, baby doll. I want you to be as loud as possible, so all the fuckers know that I’m the only one making you feel good. You and your damn dress, trying to either kill me or making me kill every single man seeing you in the dress, starting with Peter. You seemed to have liked the guys quite a lot.” He was growling now, and you smirked.

You would be lying to say that his jealousy didn’t make you even wetter. But you knew that you shouldn’t entertain these thoughts in his head, because he was actually that person who would act on it if he decided so.

“He is nice, sure, but you do know that I’m only yours, right? There is no other man for me, but my sexy bad mafia boss. But maybe, just maybe, you should remind me who do I belong to,” you whispered to his ear with fervour, and it was all that it took for Bucky to push you on his bed and jump on you.

But before you let him have his way with you, you made another mental note, not remember the two guys, feeling like they might not have Bucky’s best interests in mind. And you hated just the thought that the men who were there to protect your James, among other things, might not be the most trustworthy. But you needed more facts than your suspicions if you were to tell Bucky. You just hoped you were wrong and your spidey-senses were wrong this time. Not that they have been that many times before, but still.

/Next Chapter >

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[everlastingartist]

I was thinking about Negan and the final season of the series. So this maybe a story I'm sticking with and I never knew how heartbroken this man was and I've never been so moved by a character's love for their wife before. Never have I've seen a man go through what Negan went through. But that's why this character will forever be in my heart. So here's a large bit of the story I've been writing most of the morning.

Wandering the woods for a better part of a month, raggedy backpack with few supplies and an old water canister and only filled half full. Searching and listening for any signs of a river, moving silently moving through the dead leaves below they're boots. Beneath the leaves were last winter's branches and twigs. Slowly And stealthily moving through the forest. 

A few meters away was an old cabin, it wasn't much but it could be home. Looking carefully and scanning the trees in front of her, she made her move to venture closer to the old cabin. Watching and looking for signs and sights of Walkers. The coast was clear to move quietly and quickly.  

The hooded woman made it to the cabin door, but moved her ear closer to the middle of the door frame and listened. Rustling and the creek of the floorboards gave signs of a human. Turning the doorknob steadily, peering slowly into the cabin.

Eyes searching before they scanned the front hall and after seeing nothing, she entered through the front door then slowly closed it without making any noise. 

The floorboard creaked,  as her eyes widened at the loud, it was like hearing a pin drop. The sound of a gun cocking and filling the gun's chamber.  Blue eyes flicked over to the left side of her, to see a man. He wore grey sweatpants, a light grey hoodie that was completed with a black biker jacket along with worn down black leather boots. 

His salt and pepper beard was the first thing she noticed as his face looked thin and his eyes baggy with sleeplessness in his iris. 

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked the same question as everyone does in this situation. 

" a..Wanderer.." which was a quick answer as she steady her footing as he loomed over her frame and locked his eyes with hers.

"Just..finding a place to escape the death that's lurking outside." Her hands start to shake a little as the adrenaline starts.

His eye contact broke from hers, the hood seemed to cover her face, he wondered what she looked like. His arm slowly pointed the gun down as a breath sighted from her lips.

"Name's Negan. What the hell are you doing in the woods?" He smiled, happy to see someone who isn't trying to kill him. But Negan kept his guard. 

"Astra." Aastra slowly pulled down her hood, revealing her face.

Her hair was dark golden brown, copper highlights seemed to shine out as the sun slowly started to set.

Her eyes were like the ocean during a storm, grey blue mixed light blue. Negan watched Astra with nervousness that he only had with his wife, Lucille. 

"I've been on my own for years..no one took pity or helped me so I took what I could without hurting anyone. " Astra took in the rest of Negan's appearance, he was thinking and lean but through his shirt, his ribs were showing.

He was almost dying as the human body can survive three weeks without food and can survive long enough on water.

Seeing the signs of lack of nutrition,  Astra stuck her hand behind her and grabbed her old pack. Pulling it in front of her, Negan watched as she dug around in the pack. She took out spaghetti noodles and a tin of tomato sauce. Negan's eyes grew wide.

"You look hungry and a little  too thin."Astra smiled just a bit to lighten the mood. As Negan kept quiet, his stomach couldn't. 

A low grumble of Negan's stomach made Astra gasp at the sound before the pair join in a laugh. The laughter filled the living room as they stood three feet away from each other. 

As the laughter died down," I guess I'm hungrier than I thought." Negan let out a genuine smile. Astra took the time to wander her way to find the kitchen. The generator kicked on as Negan had wandered to the seller door after Astra looked for the kitchen. He shut the door to the seller and then made his way to the kitchen to find Astra taking a pot out to boil water. 

After 45 minutes, the spaghetti was finished and Negan has was so thin. Astra gave him a large portion of the spaghetti. Astra was fine with a medium portion. 

The both of them  had taken a seat at the table. Negan just stared at the meal then to Astra as if asking permission to eat.

"Go ahead, eat. You probably have been pretty hungry.." within a mill a second, Negan dove his fork into the meal and then it reached his mouth.  Tears sprouted from his eyes as it felt like heaven.

"This is so fucking goddamn good. I've never had a meal this good since…" and Negan stopped talking and swallowed. "Since..My wife passed away.." He hadn't spoken about the truth about Lucille. But it was all he thought about.

"I'm so sorry that you lost your wife..I can't imagine what you must have gone through.."Astra slid her hand suddenly and grabbed Negan's rough hand that laid on the table by his plate.

Negan kept his head down as Astra got up and kneeled next to his chair.

Astra stared at Negan as his head still hung low and tears kept falling from his face.

Astra's hand found its way to Negan's salt and pepper bearded cheek. "Life always has a way to make the best out of our lives. Even when we lost so much." Astra spoke as she slowly lifted his head up to let him look at her.

Negan looked broken and Astra rubbed her thumb skimmed across his bristles of his cheek. 

"You just have to know that she is no longer in pain and is in a better place than this one." Astra smiled with a tear rolling down her cheek.

Negan nodded and smiled a little before Astra let go of his face. 

[saibh29]

Lucky Charms and Coffee (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Warning: 1 Night stands, Swearing

AN: A request from a lovely anon. Hoping they don’t mind that I’ve changed it a little. I couldn’t write a ‘reader’ who would let Kelly kiss them knowing he’d brought another woman home... 

One with Severide please where he has one of his friends with benefits over but realises it’s you he wants and comes down the stairs and kisses you up against the wall🤤 thanks!! You’re the best I look forward to reading your uploads every night🥺

*****

You couldn’t decide, it was too hard a decision and what if someone got hurt because of your decision. You hated making choices, it was way too difficult. Your eyes darted back and forth between the two boxes trying to pick.

From somewhere on the upstairs mezzanine a girlish giggle rang out followed by the much deeper voice of a man.

Jesus, not again.

Choice made for you, you pulled the box of lucky charms off the shelf along with the chocolate crunch and got your bowl from the cupboard, the bowl was clearly yours as the inside was decorated with pink cupcakes and rainbows. You mixed the two cereals together coated them in full fat milk and carried it over to the breakfast bar to devour.

You’d gotten yourself perched on a stool by the breakfast bar shovelling sugary cereal into your mouth when the girlish giggles got even louder and soon enough a blonde-haired barbie was tottering down the stairs into the living room still wearing the sparkly sequin number from the night before. Kelly following behind her had a pinched expression on his face that normally meant he was getting a headache and needed everyone to shut up and leave him alone.

The blonde reached the bottom step of the spiral staircase and stopped dead, mouth opening in a pretty little ‘o’ when she locked eyes with you.

Kelly almost ran into the back of her, eyes jumping to where she was looking, he spotted you as well.

“Morning” you waved your spoon at them both in greeting but otherwise ignored them, much more focused on injecting sugar into your system with cereal.

You’d seen this walk of shame way too many times to count. At first, when Kelly had first wheedled his way into your spare room, you’d tried to talk to them. Then when you’d begun to realise that you’d never see the same woman more than once you’d slowly given in.

Now it was a wave at most and mainly you scampered before they even came down.

You hadn’t heard the usual noise coming from his room last night though, didn’t have any clue that he’d even got a woman in there.

You could hear Kelly trying to gracefully extricate himself from the blonde at the door, and a few minutes later the slam of the front door.

Kelly came back towards the kitchen, rubbing at his temples.

Before the cereal choices had started to ruin your morning, you’d flicked the coffee machine on and you pointed to it now.

“Should be done”

“My angel” Kelly sighed grabbing on of the larger mugs from the shelf and filling it to the brim before coming to sit beside you.

“She seemed nice”

“Really?”

Shrugging you put one more heaped spoonful of cereal in your mouth. “Could be”

From the drawn expression on Kelly’s face and the slightly green tinge to his skin he’d drank more than usual last night as well. He pushed his coffee mug further away so he could lay his head down on the counter. “Her laugh went straight through my brain”

“It was rather high pitched, but then again I doubt it was her laugh that attracted you to her last night” he turned his head to open one eye, that eye looked fairly pissed off. “Those were some very bright… sequins”

Kelly pushed himself back up again. “You jealous?”

“Of what? Barbie?” snorting in derision you scowled at him. “Why would I be jealous of that?”

“Because she actually looks female?”

“Excuse me?”

Kelly took a deliberately long look at you, eyes processing the leggings you had on shoved into fluffy socks with pictures of Garfield on. Then moving up to the over sized jumper you’d gotten from one of your brothers. It was bright pink with little sparkly stars covering it. Your hair bundled up into a messy bun and not a lick of make up on your skin.

“Don’t worry angel, some men like the quirky look”

“Get lost Kelly” you finished up your cereal quickly, dumping the bowl in the dishwasher and coming back to stand beside him. “Just because not all of us are happy to jump into bed with the first person to speak to us”

“Angel…”

“Stop calling me that. How many times do I have to tell you?” you’d worn angel wings for one Halloween more than 5 years ago now and Kelly still wouldn’t give up on that stupid nickname.

“Y/N…” at this point even Kelly seemed to have registered that he’d screwed up. He’d gone past the usual level of banter that the two of you shared and veered into seriously insulting. “I didn’t mean, I'm still semi drunk, just ignore me”

“I ignore you most of the time Kelly. Trust me” reaching out you took the still half full coffee mug from him. “You don’t deserve my expensive coffee anymore”

Leaving him sat at the breakfast bar you went back into your own room.

Stupid Kelly and his stupid Harem. What was wrong with the way you dressed? Sure you didn’t look like sequinned barbie, but you were… comfortable.

Damn him.

You stared in the mirror at yourself. Maybe you could make more of an effort. The baggy sweater did nothing for your figure, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d worn a bra with a wire. Why would you? Wires we’re so uncomfortable. You bet barbie wore a bra with a wire, probably one of those fancy lacy monstrosities that pushed your boobs up to under your chin.

Did it really matter what Kelly thought though? You’d gotten over your stupid crush on him years ago. Happy to accept the fact that you would never be the type of woman he went for.

However, an evil thought started to take root in your brain. Would it be so bad to prove, at least for one night that you could do… sequins just as well as the next barbie.

Grabbing your phone, you found Gabby’s number calling your friend and the reason you knew Kelly in the first place.

‘Y/N? What’s up?’

‘I need to borrow a dress’ you said without preamble ‘and possible a bra, one with a wire and that push up effect’

‘umm, ok. What’s going on?’

‘I have something to prove, mainly to myself, but also possible a little bit to Kelly’

‘What’d he do now?’

‘Doesn’t matter. Can you help me?’

‘Sure. Come over and we’ll see what we can find’

With Gabby on board you felt a bit more confident. Gabby always looked hot; she could fix you up in not time. You were going to prove them all wrong.

****

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