#im so tired and nervous at home all the time i wish i was 18 w a job already i cant deal anymore <33!!!!!!< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

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It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

[avonnimimi]

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Plugged

The Series. Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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a/n: PART TWO IS HERE BITCHESSSSS. @hcneymooners @wannabe-fic-reader im so nervous about this lmao. I hope you all enjoy :) . Please remember, some things will be written in my native english dialect, if you don’t understand, comment and I will translate. MEN AND MINROS DNI

content: drug dealer! Vi x Black fem reader, weed, intox, cursing, toxic relationships, gang violence, guns, vi being fine asf, ANGST (kinda). lmk if i missed anything <3

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Donte didn't drag his sorry ass back home until the sky was starting to lighten, that weak-ass sunrise painting the shitty apartment in a pathetic, pale glow. You woke up on the couch, stiff and sore, to the feeling of his clammy hand creeping up your thigh. You shoved him off hard enough to send him tumbling onto the floor.

"Where the fuck were you? I had to hitch a ride home with your friend," you spat, the taste of stale weed and resentment thick in your mouth. He looked at you with that lazy, half-lidded gaze that used to make your stomach flip, now just made you want to puke. He licked his lips, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of disgust down your spine.

"You fine when you mad, mama," he slurred, his voice raspy with sleep and something else, something that smelled faintly of cheap perfume.

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. "That's how bitches like me get raped and killed," you growled, the words sharp and bitter.

He let out a dramatic sigh, mumbling something about you talking too much, about how you were always starting shit. You ignored him, the anger a cold knot in your gut. "I'm going out with the girls," you announced, already planning your escape from this suffocating apartment, from him.

You took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing his touch off your skin, then dressed in your favorite ripped jeans and a tight crop top, the one that always made him look twice. You spent an hour meticulously applying your makeup, each stroke of eyeliner a tiny act of defiance. You even finished that damn marketing assignment, the one you'd been putting off for weeks, just to prove to yourself, and maybe to him, that you weren't some useless, dependent thing. Then you called Shay.

"Hey, baby mama, wanna go out today?" you chirped, forcing a lightness you didn't feel.

"Bitch, don't wish no kids on me! I rebuke that shit in the name of Jesus! Girl, bye," Shay's voice boomed through the phone, her laughter infectious. You couldn't help but giggle, the tension easing just a little.

"I'm trying to be an auntie!" you whined playfully.

Shay promised to be there in 20 minutes. Five minutes later, her car horn blared outside, the sound a welcome interruption to the suffocating silence of the apartment. You didn't even glance at Donte as you walked out the door.

The second you were in Shay's car, the gossip floodgates opened. "Girl, you heard Violet's outta jail?"

You rolled your eyes, already tired of hearing about this Vi chick. "I've seen her. What's the big deal?"

Shay looked at you, a mixture of shock and amusement on her face. "I forgot you weren't here when she was running these streets," she explained, shaking her head. "Vi was the shit. Freshly 18, but she owned these ends. Connected to everyone, kept shit cordial. It wasn't just about the weed, girl."

You listened, intrigued despite yourself. "But then she got knocked. Don't know how, but she's been in jail ever since. Just got out last week."

A slow smile spread across your face. "So, would now be a good time to tell you she took me home and brought me weed at 3 AM?"

Shay slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt in the middle of the street. "BITCH, WHAT?!" You burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small car. "God, I'm so jealous. You don't know what I would give to be up in them drawls…." she trailed off, her voice laced with a longing that surprised you.

"Hello?! Why would you say that, omg?" you asked, feigning outrage.

Shay just laughed, shaking her head as she pulled back into traffic.

You ended up at a dingy arcade, the kind with sticky floors and flickering neon lights. You spent hours playing air hockey, racking up tickets, and winning handfuls of cheap candy. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

It was Vi. You didn't even remember saving her number, but that weed… that had been some seriously potent shit.

"Hello?" you answered, your voice a little breathless from laughing.

"Precious, where you at?" The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, liking it more than you should. You had a man, you reminded yourself.

"Stop calling me that," you said, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably. "I'm at the arcade. Why?"

"Come outside. Got somethin' for you," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she hung up. How the hell did she know where you were? You grabbed Shay's arm, pulling her towards the exit. "Girl, Vi just told me to come outside. Did you tell her I was here?"

Shay looked genuinely confused. "Nah, babe, I ain't said shit. Haven't spoken to her."

You stepped out of the arcade, blinking against the bright afternoon sun. And there she was, leaning against her black Hellcat like she owned the damn place, a spliff dangling from her lips. Shay was practically drooling beside you. "God, she's so fine," she mumbled, her eyes wide.

You walked towards Vi, a nervous flutter in your stomach. "How'd you know I was here?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Vi leaned down, her eyes locking with yours. "I got eyes and ears everywhere, precious. Ain't nothin' I don't know."

"So, whatcha want? I was in the middle of a game," you said, trying to maintain a cool facade, but her closeness was making it hard to think straight.

She straightened up, pulling something out of the car. Three crisp hundred-dollar bills. She took your hand, her fingers brushing against yours, and placed the money in your palm.

You stared at her, speechless. "What's this for?"

She looked you up and down, her gaze lingering on your chipped nails. "Two of your acrylics are missing. Ain't gonna let precious walk around like that," she scoffed, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I can tell when someone ain't getting taken care of." You glanced at Shay, who looked as stunned as you felt.

It was only then that Vi acknowledged Shay. "Aye, that my girl Shay?" She stepped away from you, the loss of her warmth surprisingly noticeable.

"Hey, Vi," Shay said, waving awkwardly.

"Hey, lil mama. Ain't seen you in a minute," Vi replied, her voice softer now. A pang of jealousy twisted in your gut. Vi seemed to notice, her eyes flicking back to yours for a brief moment.

"Yeah, you been in jail like a bum," Shay retorted with a nervous giggle.

Vi said she had other business to attend to, her eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. "Call me if you need anything, precious," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she got back in her car, the engine roaring to life before she sped away, leaving you standing there, the three hundred-dollar bills burning a hole in your pocket.

"Bitch, did THE Violet just give you three bills to get your nails done?!" Shay shrieked, breaking the spell. You just shook your head, still reeling from the encounter.

—

Shay dropped you back at your apartment around 5 PM. Donte was sprawled on the couch, glued to the TV, a controller clutched in his hand.

"Get dressed. We going to Tevonn's," he said without looking at you, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Tevonn? Ain't that your biggest opp?" you asked, a sense of unease settling over you.

"Nah, we cool now," he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded slowly, searching his face for any flicker of dishonesty. Something felt off.

You went to your room, a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. You changed into a little black dress, the one that always made you feel confident, and tucked the three hundred dollars into your purse.

—

Tevonn's place was packed, the air thick with the smell of weed and sweat. Music blasted through the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your chest. You followed close behind Donte, trying to navigate the throng of unfamiliar faces. This didn't feel like a party. It felt like a trap.

Donte found a couch and sat, pulling you down onto his lap. You sat stiffly, acutely aware of the eyes on you, the weight of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. You scanned the room, your heart skipping a beat when you spotted Vi across the room, talking to a group of men. But her eyes… her eyes were on you, and for a moment, the chaos of the party faded away, leaving only the intensity of her gaze. You quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing, thanking God you were black.

Donte mumbled something about needing to "deal with some business" and pulled you towards the back of the house. You followed reluctantly, your unease growing with every step.

The back room was smaller, more dimly lit, and the air was thick with tension. Tevonn and his crew were there, their faces hard and unreadable. This didn't look like business. It looked like a setup. You grabbed Donte's hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "You sure about this?"

He brushed you off, his voice impatient. "Come on," he muttered, pulling you forward.

Tevonn stepped towards Donte, his eyes cold and calculating. You saw the glint of metal tucked into his waistband, and your heart pounded in your chest.

"Yeah, so to settle this shit, we want your girl," Tevonn said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. The words hit you like a physical blow, the air knocked out of your lungs.

"Excuse me, what?" you choked out, stumbling back. "Settle what shit?"

Donte grabbed your arm, yanking you towards Tevonn. "Just go. Gotta deal with this shit, then I'ma come back for you, mama," he said, his voice tight with annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere, Donte! What the fuck?!" you yelled, struggling against his grip.

His patience finally snapped. His hand swung back, connecting with your cheek with a sickening thud. You stumbled back, tears stinging your eyes. He crouched down, his fingers digging into your arms. "Aye, just do what I'm sayin'! Gotta deal with this," he hissed, his voice laced with menace. He pulled you roughly towards Tevonn.

"There a problem out here?" The voice cut through the chaos like a knife. Vi.

Tevonn stiffened, and Donte let out a string of curses under his breath. Vi walked towards them, her movements fluid and effortless, her eyes fixed on you. She casually draped her arm over Tevonn's shoulder, pulling him close.

"What's going on out here, my boy?" she asked, her voice smooth and deceptively calm. Tevonn mumbled something about payment, about Donte sleeping with his girl, his words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Vi held your gaze, a silent promise in her eyes.

With a swift, practiced movement, Vi lifted the gun from Tevonn's waistband, tossing it aside as if it were a child's toy. Then she drew her own weapon, the movement so smooth and seamless you barely registered it until the cold steel was pressed against Tevonn's temple.

She whispered something in his ear, her voice low and menacing. You watched as Tevonn nodded, his face pale and drawn, muttering apologies. Then she turned her attention to Donte, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Not gonna lie, bruh, you know how I feel about men hitting women," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. Donte froze, his bravado melting away like ice in the sun.

"Vi, we go way back. It ain't that serious," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

"I don't give a fuck," Vi growled, shoving Tevonn aside and stepping towards Donte. Even though Donte was taller, Vi radiated an aura of power that made him seem small and insignificant.

She pressed the gun against his forehead, her finger tightening on the trigger. Donte finally released you, his eyes wide with fear. You ran to Vi, and she caught you, her arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

"Don't ever touch her again, Donte. Don't make me have to teach you this lesson twice," she warned, her voice cold and hard.

She scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you through the crowded house, ignoring Donte's desperate pleas and empty threats. She carried you to her car, gently placing you in the passenger’s seat.

She closed the door, then walked around to the driver's side, sliding in and cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs gently stroking the bruise forming on your cheek. "Gonna kill him," she mumbled, her voice thick with rage.

You pulled away, the anger and fear churning in your stomach replaced by a strange mix of relief and… something else. "Just take me home," you whispered, your voice trembling.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[p2ii]

religious trauma/PIMO vent again !!!

feel like ill be doing it more often now so i'll come up w a tag for it but for now #ex muslim tag (<- what im using if you wanna filter)

[spikesbimbo]

Soft sex pt.1   pt.2

-MSBY

Tags: cuddle fucking,cockwarming, morning sex, big dick!meian, bath sex, makeup sex, praise kink, hurt/comfort, pussy job

a/n: vanilla is not something to be ashamed of, its way more common than you think, you don't need to be doing kamasutra every night to keep the spark. none of that daddy shit in this. Srry : /

i also don't proofread, i h8 reading works right after i finish them, so let me know if anything's wrong.

NO KINKY FREAKY ASS SHIT 

**ONLY SOFT SEX BEYOND THIS POINT**

18+ Minors DNI

-Hinata

….Morning... sex. mmhmm

He could usually control his morning wood

But after being gone for so many days, finally coming home to see you, it was impossible

You woke up after you heard a few groans, feeling him rut into your back, turning over to see his face flushed and cheeks red, whether it be from getting caught or his activities 

So you decide to help him as a good s/o should

But you're also tired… 

So you just pull your pants off and tell him to go at it, not too rough because you had to work in the afternoon.

-

“Baby, you okay?” you faintly asked, turning around, eyes trying to open after hearing him make some noises. You hated when people disturbed your sleep, which you oh so loved, but your boyfriend was an exception, sometimes.

But what you didn't expect when you opened your eyes was catching him, red faced, with his hand in his boxers trying to make it stop. Looking like he was in a lot of pain, so your quick mind got on it, not wanting to see his face in any more discomfort.

“Here” you said, shuffling your back into him while pulling down your panties, setting your ass on his bulge, grinding a little to get him to hurry up. Knowing this was the only way you could take care of him.

“You sure?” he asked already putting his cock into you being needy as ever, which indeed you thought was cute in way but him stretching you out made you respond by pushing yourself even more against him, bottoming out which both of you let out some moans and curses, softly saying them as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you a minute before he started moving.

“S-shoyo”  you quietly gasped, holding onto the pillow as he pushed himself into you trying to close your eyes and relax, slowly but restlessly, getting deeper in you with every thrust. Leaning back into him his arm now moving around your chest, angling himself to where it felt good. 

His thrusts felt agonizingly slow, teasing almost, as he shoved his face into your shoulder, groaning how good you felt. “fuck, baby m’gonna cum.” he whined out. The pressure in his hips getting stronger with you clenching around him.

‘s’okay, hurry up and cum baby” you cooed, feeling him grow in you, wanting him to feel good, moving your hips back to catch his. “fuck-k” he finished, the warmness spreading into you, some dripping out onto your legs, slipping on the bed.

“You good now?” you giggled after some time, him finally sporting a smile instead of a frown. “thank you...” he shyly muttered out, turning you around to face him, wanting to see your pretty face.

“Can u wake me up at 3?” you asked, giving yourself another hour to get clean. Already being put back because you had to come in earlier today.

“Yeah cutie.” he said, putting it on his phone, you too worn out to do anything but stay still, now facing him while he snuggled into your chest, his head right under yours, finally getting the rest you deserved.

-Atsumu

You were a sensitive little thing, loving how rough and needy he got with you.

But sometimes you needed a break, it hurting too much leaving you sore.

But you're also a fiend for him okay?

who wouldn't be?

Jumping on him every hour of the day.

So you go and straight up, atleast try to, tell him that you want him to be easier with you.

But you were also embarrassed of it, being so needy for him, also not wanting his ego to get any higher than it was,  due to you basically you telling him you needed him everyday.

And he's like ok!! on it (¬‿¬)

-

“What wrong pretty girl, hmmm?” he asked, pulling your waist closer to him, dragging his hand on your upper thigh, fingers finding the outline of you panties under that skirt you were wearing. Him wondering why you looked so distraught just walking up to him.

“Tsumie” you said ignoring his question, bringing up your own, trying your best to get it out only for it to get caught in your throat.

“Hmm?” he responded turning all his attention on you, his gaze making you even more nervous.

“I- um... was just wondering if you could- ya know....bealittlemoregentlenexttime?” you said, muttering the last part out, hoping he understood and wouldn't inquire any further. 

He paused for a minute, taking in what you just said, glad that you were comfortable enough to express your thoughts around him, pulling you closer until his face was to your chest, looking up at you with his eyes glistening due to the reflection of the lamp in them. “Right now princess?” he smirked much softer than he usually did.

“Here baby. You're gonna come with me, and i'm gonna take good care of you...real good care of you.” he said, playful traces underlying his words, getting up from his chair while picking you up with him, hands under your thighs already causing a problem. Yes you loved dom, rough atsumu but when he was sweet and gentle, that was a whole nother story, as you could prove right now.

He gently laid you on the bed, taking all your clothes off, kissing all over you until you were wet enough, before attempting to “test” you with his fingers. To which you whined in protest, wanting him in you right now, wanting to feel his warmth inside and out of you.

He positioned himself on top of you, listening to whatever you wanted, fully settling himself inside after sometime, giving you time to adjust to him. He started moving his hips back and forth, his view of you beneath him being picture perfect, as you could say them the same before leaning down into you, muttering words of praise and affection in your ears. The only sound you responded with was moans and cries, but the look in your eyes, the look of want and need, the baseline for love, told him what he wanted to hear, but it wasn't enough.

“Thank you for putting up with me, you know i love you, huh? tell me baby.” he said not rushing you wanting you to feel at ease with him “Tell me you know i love you” he finished, desperate undertones in his words, looking at you with those big sweet eyes.

“I-i know you... love- me.” you choked out, his soft thrusts still hitting you deep, knocking on your cervix, but it felt so good; being in eachothers arms,  hitting all the right spots, his breath in your face entangling with yours, feeling more connected than ever. Before you knew it the two of you had finished more than once, now resting in eachothers arms, a 

“You feel good baby? He asked, an airy smile plastered on his face, you trying to do the same moving closer to him so he could hear you, arms still wrapped around each other.

“yeah.”

 -Kiyoomi

You loved him so much, even when he was a meanie

And he did the same, internally grateful that he was lucky enough to get someone as sweet as you.

Which is why he was making up for the argument he started earlier today.

Not meaning anything he said, just stressed and taking it out on you : ( not knowing how to apologize with words.

So he does what he knows you love, but you never ask him bc you don't want to bother him. 

You loved him touching you and vice versa, but you respected his wishes and only did it when you two were alone, even holding back in private too, not wanting to bother him.

So he gives you want you want, a physical form of an apology, another way to express his feelings. 

-

“shh..” he tenderly mumbled into your ear, the one he’d been kissing on for the past few minutes, the sloppiness of it that you loved. Your chest to his back, being completely nude with your legs spread open, one of his hands pinching your nipple while grabbing the rest of the flesh around it.

The sweat and tears adoring your face, masked in pleasure, trying your best to look up at him only to receive a kiss on the head.  

“Yoomi~”  you sofly cried, clinging on your hands back onto the fabric of his shirt, the one that he got back from his press conference in, the one that he came back in a bad mood, immediately taking it out on you.

His thumb played with your clit, two of his long fingers sliding in as well, leaving you more of a mess then you were already in, his voice accompanied, encouraging you to. He curled his fingers into you, not roughly but hard enough to make you feel it. Your other hand shakily grabbing onto the arm he was blessing you with.

You were such a sweetheart for him, an angel he thought. As soon as you walked in the room he could swear he saw a halo around your head, looking at you long enough to where he could bask in your beauty, but short enough to where you couldn't tell.

Sometimes he felt like he didn't deserve you, being such a bad boyfriend that can't attend to your “needs”, feeling like a dead weight on you. But the way you followed him around like a lost puppy, expressing your love for him in ways you knew he would like reassured him that you were the one.

“-omi” you moaned, legs now shaking, holding them in place with his arm, his fingers working faster while his hand was still cupping your breast squeezing it every once in a while.

“Come for me love.” he warmly mumbled into your ear, taking a break from kissing down your neck, his marks accompanying the glistening of your skin, being the prettiest sight in his eyes. You freezed up in his arms, finally letting go of his shirt, your head rolling back as far as it could. You ultimately getting the both of you dirty, your cum being now a puddle beneath you two, not having the energy to fret about it.

He lets you rest in his arms after your high, lightly resting his head on top of yours, giving it another kiss, gently holding you leaning into you before whispering a faint “Im sorry.”

-Bokuto

This is regular occurrence for you two

Yes, he fucks the shit out of you, but lovingly < 3

You two always express your love for each other through touch, being intimate leaves to you in a daze.

But after he wins a game and sees you in the crowd so excited, a big smile appears on his face, feeling grateful to have you in his life.

He shows you how much he appreciates you

-

“i love you....so much” he said, dragging your clothes off, eyes following you like a needy puppy, his shirt hanging on by one of his arms still in it, the rest of him naked. 

You could only giggle in response, taking off the bra yourself, seeing that he was trying his hardest too, not wanting to take any longer. “Ko, baby what about you?” you said referring to his state letting out another laugh. His hair even more messed up from taking off his hoodie faster than  you've ever seen, looking like a little kid trying to dress themselves.

“baby.” you murmur, your hands landing on the sides of his face, into your space, trying to bring him back to reality for a second. “I'm always gonna be here, always... so you can take your time” you finished, seeing he finally took your suggestion as he stood up.

He took off his shirt, now being fully naked for your eyes to admire. But before you could let your hands touch his chest he grabbed them, softly pulling you into his lap, wrapping his big arms around you while letting his head rest on your shoulder.

You got the hint and relaxed as he lined himself up with you, moving his head so that he could see before pushing himself inside trying to hold back his eagerness. “feel good?” he asked thrusting in you a little, the blush covering his cheeks as he held your body closer. 

“yeah...feels so good.” you faintly whined out. “...only you could make me feel this way” 

His big frame melted into yours as he started moving, your words being music to his ears, his slow strokes making you feel his need. You leaned your head on his shoulder too, slightly moving your hips with his, wanting to feel him even deeper.

His hands moved to your ass and the top of your back, gripping them firmly against his soft movements, letting out moans as he felt you clench around him, the soft flesh being the only thing  keeping him grounded. 

“F-fuck baby” he started before you cut him off with a “shh, you can cum.” trying your best to seem stable with the way he was fucking you, bouncing on him, hitting those seep spots over and over.

You felt him release, the wetness dripping down your thighs falling onto his, hearing a few curses and moans along with it, giving you puppy dogs eyes asking if you'd let him fuck you again, and of course you couldn't say no.

He kept you in this position for the rest of the night so he could hear all the words of affection, the praise you said he deserved, moaned into his ear. The scratch marks and bruises being the only physical trace left, reminding him of the love you two shared.

“You did great bo.” you said with a smile, sitting in his lap, eyes fluttering as you feel asleep along with him. His grip on you was still tight, kissing you on the forehead, his way of letting you know how much he loved you.

-Meian

Date night yayyyy

Anyways, he’s admiring how beautiful you are, thanking the gods for giving you to him

And he wants to show you how much he worships the ground you walk on, taking it nice and slow, as usual, but this time it would stay like that.

Even if he tries to be gentle with you its still gonna hurt for a min.

Poor baby :’ (

But its okay cause he’ll dote on you and coo in your ear of how good of a girl you are for taking him. :  )

-

“Please, meian.'' you whined, grabbing onto his chest, sweaty skin linking you two together, thighs connected to his hips. Rubbing your bare self on his length, the lace panties you had on being long gone, tossed somewhere on the floor.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of you the whole night, the outfit you had on hugging you just right, the skin peeking out every so often, his hands wondering all over you to your obvious enjoyment; and on the ride home he couldn't keep his eyes off your lips. The gloss shining bright in the streetlights, your natural pout shaping your pretty little face, so innocent, reminding him of all the times you weren't.

“shhh... its okay, I got you angel. We can take it slow, okay?” he said already reading your mind, knowing how his pretty girl thinks, holding your weight making sure you didn't slide down him too fast.

He let you do whatever you wanted to your heart's content, it was always about you, he'd always go along with what you wanted, never doing anything you didn't. You wanting to ride him out of the blue, wanting to take it at your pace. He was more than happy to provide, you usually letting him do whatever he wanted to you, its only right that he returned the favor.

“You good doll?” he groaned, only the tip being in you right now, trying to accommodate his size, even though you were wet from him jumping on you the minute you walked through the door. His hungry eyes not leaving you once, picking you up while shoving his lips on your soft ones, hands raking through your clothes, his hands pulling them off till you only had your panties on.

“Ease up baby, look... “ he stated, his grip on your hips with his big warm hands making you melt into his touch, distracting you from your end goal. “m’sorry... im trying to go faster” you let out, a few tears following while you froze in place. Your mind racing with the thoughts of this not feeling good for him, only you, instant regret flooding your train of thought.

“No, no, no angel,” he started worriedly, wanting to take care of you as he should, leaning up against the bed frame now being face to face with you. “its all about you okay? don't worry doll it feels good for me too, I'm not as impatient as i seem” he said, a slight laugh accompanying him trying to lighten the mood.

“here, lemme move all the way inside you, then you can do whatever you want alright.” he somewhat asked. You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as his hands and hips moved, slowly filling you up, now trembling in his grasp. The stretch making you whine, feeling his balls against your ass, already rutting into him letting out a few moans while he leaned back, thinking you were the most precious thing he's ever seen, a slight smirk now on his face.

“Alright angel, im all yours now.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[rikiflrts]

— ꒰‧ 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ༉‧₊˚✧

after what seemed like forever, i finally made my own prompt list! if you wish to request for the prompts that you’d like to use with a certain member, then feel free to choose any of the numbers displayed and tell me about them in the ask box (^^).

also: please be specific with the genre that you'd like to imply with your chosen prompts, thank you~ ♡

1.) "i just wanted to give you a hug"

2.) "dumbass we're lost now thanks to you!" " i already got lost in your eyes from the moment i met you but you don't see me complaining."

3.) "please don't talk to me right now, im not in the mood"

4.) "how are you so beautiful?"

5.) "my hoodie looks great on you"

6.) "how could you..."

7.) "i trusted you"

8.) "i didn't tell you to trust me."

9.) "you're leaving? just like that?"

10.) "no stop you're making me blush"

11.) "and if i am?"

12.) "just shut up and let me play with your hair"

13.) "so this is what falling in love feels like"

14.) "how are you even real..?"

15.) "are you being for real right now?"

16.) "...did you just sniff me?"

17.) "if you're that mad then why don't you just take it out on me?"

18.) "i don't mind"

19.) "you dumbass, i said i like you!"

20.) "i used to have this huge crush on you (laughs)" "used to?" "well, yeah.. i dont really like you anymore"

21.) "can i hold your hand?"

22.) "are you nervous?"

23.) "less talking, more working!"

24.) "im in love with an idiot"

25.) "but you promised me that we'd get married!!" "for the love of god, ____ we were 5 when that promise was made!"

26.) "but i still love/like you.."

27.) "this reminded me of you"

28.) "his/her/their smile is really pretty.."

29.) "just confess already!!"

30.) "you're an idiot." "yeah. your idiot."

31.) "are you even paying attention?"

32.) "does it look like i care?"

33.) "i don't really care"

34.) "it's been a while since i last smiled like this"

35.) "oh crap im starting to feel the butterflies again"

36.) "I'm scared, okay?! i can't do it"

37.) "what are you so scared of?"

38.) "im scared of falling.." "dont be, i'll catch you."

39.) "promise..?" "promise."

40.) "i guess promises really were meant to be broken."

41.) "you made a fool out of me!"

42.) "im sorry, its not you.. its me."

43.) "what about our promises??" "what about them?"

44.) "please dont go"

45.) "is/are they/he/she all you're ever going to look at?im already right in front of your attention is still focused on them/him/her."

46.) "that's it..?"

47.) "cuddle with me"

48.) "no."

49.) "his/her/their eyes were like pools; so deep. I fear that if I fall, I might never come out and reach for air."

50.) "i love spending time with you"

51.) "let's just be friends"

52.) "im sorry, im afraid of commitment"

53.) "im afraid of it too. why don't you just take this risk and overcome your fears with me?"

54.) "if its you, then i dont mind."

55.) "i love your smell"

56.) "what's that supposed to mean?"

57.) "first love really never does die huh"

58.) "hey, you look really familiar" "oh, really?" "yeah. you look like my soulmate."

59.) "if you like me so much then just marry me already"

60.) "wait i can do that?!" "your gullibility really amazes me sometimes."

61.) "are you dumb? be honest"

62.) "im not in the mood"

63.) "are you okay?"

64.) "you look horrible" "oh wow gee thanks for pointing that out sherlock"

65.) "what's in it for me?"

66.) "do you..like me?"

67.) "do you like him/her/them?"

68.) "but i wrote you letters.."

69.) "they mean nothing to me."

70.) "wow! i haven't seen you in ages, how have you been?" "we literally just saw each other 5 hours ago."

71.) "wipe that smirk off your face, its annoying"

72.) "aww, why? are you perhaps threatened that you'll end up falling for me?"

73.) "i think im going to puke"

74.) "are you blushing?"

75.) "aren't you tired of comstantly running in my mind?"

76.) "i can't get him/her/them out of my head"

77.) "your laugh sounds really pretty"

78.) "i love how your eyes sparkle whenever you're invested in something"

79.) "im falling"

80.) "oh no im catching feelings"

81.) "do you ever stop talking?"

82.) "let me get that for you"

83.) "its okay, i can pay for myself" "no. i wont let you" "but i have my own mone-" "shut up and let me spoil you!"

84.) "i refuse to stay in the same room with the likes of him/her/them!"

86.) "it was pretty obvious.."

87.) "come here."

88.) "stop doing that to yourself!"

89.) "you deserve better."

90.) "just leave. i dont want to see your face anymore."

91.) "i hate you." "the feeling's mutual."

92.) "didn't i tell you to leave me alone?!"

93.) "was it so wrong to love you..?"

94.) "if you really love me then just stay away from my sight."

95.) "you feel like home"

96.) "i love hugging you, it makes me feel safe"

97.) "i could kiss you right now!" "you're very welcome to do it."

98.) "i can't keep playing pretend"

99.) "let's put an end to this.."

100.) "i think im actually catching feelings"

101.) "this is getting dangerous.."

102.) "give me another chance"

103.) "give me one reason why i shouldnt leave."

104.) "im going to do it! im finally going to confess to him/her/them!"

105.) "you've got to be kidding me.."

106.) "i knew what i signed up for. im not surprised."

107.) "he/she/they has/have stars in his/her/their eyes and im captivated"

108.) "i love you" "nice try, but im not falling for that"

109.) "is it that hard to fall in love with me?!"

110.) "well if you put it that way, then yes."

111.) "you look happy"

112.) "you look happier without me."

113.) "can you guys please change the dare"

114.) "who gave you the right to toy around with my emotions like that?!"

115.) "i got played.."

116.) "stay out of my sight."

117.) "you're an eyesore" "you're an eye candy"

118.) "why are you still here?"

119.) "why..?"

120.) "stop making fun of me!" "make me."

121.) "was i just some kind of sick joke to you?"

122.) " i really like you "

123.) "i don't know how to express my feelings that well but i just want you to know that i'd take a bullet for you"

124.) "i'd do anything just to see you smile like that again"

125.) "what are you staring at?"

126.) "i think i have a crush on you" "you think? you're not even sure?"

127.) "take my hand"

128.) "let's get out of here."

129.) "you should wear my clothes more often"

130.) "i can teach you how"

131.) "I'm here for you"

132.) "you can use me to forget about him/her/them"

133.) "even if the world turns againt us, as long as we have each other, then we'll be alright."

134.) "you're all that i need"

135.) "you're all that i ever wanted"

136.) "you're all that i have"

137.) "please don't leave me"

138.) "I'm sorry."

139.) "look at me."

140.) "look at me and tell me that you don't love me anymore."

141.) "you're an idiot."

142.) "i don't love you anymore."

143.) "did you just drink from my cup?" "and if i did?"

144.) "im going to kill you!" "you don't scare me"

145.) "stay with me a little longer"

146.) "i knew it.."

147.) "i should've known.."

148.) "are you jealous?"

149.) "i made you a playlist"

150.) "when will you ever look my way..?"

151.) "im fine with looking at him/her/them from afar"

152.) "he's/she's/they're out of my league"

151.) "im scared of getting rejected"

152.) "back to square one"

153.) "I'm tired"

154.) "what do you like about me?"

154.) "i'd rather starve than spend time with him/her/them."

155.) "if i'm an idiot, then you're a coward"

156.) "i dreamt about you last night"

157.) "it was a nightmare"

158.) "it's the little things that he/she/they do/does that drive me insane"

159.) "i like you more than i should"

160.) "be mine"

161.) "it was too good to be true.."

162.) "i had a crush on him/her/them"

163.) "i never really thought that i'd end up falling for you"

164.) "you're adorable"

165.) "you mean the world to me"

166.) "you meant the world to me"

167.) "what happened in the past stays in the past"

168.) "careful, you might end up falling for me"

169.) "very funny, mister lover boy"

170.) "lets go out on a date"

171.) "i'm so lucky to have you"

172.) "where are you going?"

173.) "sometimes it really just gotta be like that"

174.) "hello good afternoon, what's your order?" "hell- oh wow.. you please" "im sorry, could you say that again?" "wait no! i meant- uh..oh dear.."

175.) "he's too good for me"

176.) "stop giving me mixed signals"

177.) "i guess it really just wasn't meant to be"

178.) "im not interested in you"

179.) "i cant get him/her/them out of my head"

180.) "where is/are he/she/they?"

181.) "you took my pillow so im going to use you as a pillow"

182.) "why are you avoiding me?"

183.) "did i do something wrong?"

184.) "please talk to me"

185.) "im not even his/her/their ideal type"

186.) "it wouldn't hurt to try"

187.) "you smell like me"

188.) "i like my scent on you"

189.) "that sounds weird if you put it that way"

190.) "can i call you tonight?"

191.) "you should smile more often"

192.) "i hate it when people tell me what to do"

193.) "lets wear matching outfits!"

194.) "im arresting you." "why? i didnt do anything wrong" "yes you did, you stole my heart and i want justice!"

195.) "i guess i got too caught up with my fatasies to notice that he/she/they never really liked me back in the first place.."

196.) "you're the answer to all my prayers"

198.) "you should go home."

199.) "let me come with you"

200.) "run away with me"

last updated: 12/30/20

take me back to navigation ↺

[bananaman-mp3]

five

mare runs away and takes injured gisa home, running away because she cant face her mom and dad and- god… poor girl. gisa was the best chance their family had to better conditions… and maybe she didnt tell gisa to do it but she was the one that asked her for help, obviously she would feel all the guilt, all of it.

she settles near a tavern and pickpockets the drunk ppl thats stumble out for a while, because she cant bring herself to go home. one of the men catches her and gives her “a silver tetrarch worth one whole crown”. naturally, mare is completely taken aback. when she asks he says that she needs it more than he does. its nice to see mare is shown kindness at last. its probably really strange for her and that why she has such a hard time thanking him.

so now this mysterious dude asks her if shes from the village and if shes going back. mare makes a show of being a little bastard by retorting like every question he asks is stupid. mare mentions she makes him nervous which hmm.

so he expresses his concern about her making everyone in the bar go bankrupt and offers to… walk her home i guess? and his name is cal! mare keeps giving himthe cold shoulder lmao. on the other hand, this guy seems nice!

she tries to shut him up when he tries to do small talk by mentioning his nice payment, and that brings her to tell him she has no job and will be drafted when she turns 18. he wonders out loud if she really couldnt avoid it. she says stealing is the best she can do, but that gisa has a job- and remembers not anymore. fuck, that hurt huh.

she breaks down and vents about how horrible she feels- for hurting gisa, for stealing from her own people, for everything shes lived through, probably. cal listens, and gives her another coin, tells her how sorry he is and goddamit im already attatched to him. also i made the mistake of opening the book on the last page and read his name yesterday by accident so i have more reasons to keep liking him. ugh.

cal leaves her at the edge of the village- it makes him uncomfortable- and she walks back home alone. she finds her dad outside- apparently for the first time in a while, checking why the powers out. we are reminded of his prosthetic(?) lung, and mare wonders if gisa will need something for her hand too, now.

they both fumble around the utility box to get electricity to work, because it broke. she mentions how both her and her dad are are avoiding her mom, how they are both tired and angry at the world they live in, until mare does something.

ive noticed this before, when she was fleeing the silvers in summerton. there was a vague allusion to the guy that attempted to drown her being electrocuted. im pretty sure it was just the mention of flashing lights or something and then the dude fainting- lemme look it up: “My head smacks the stone bottom and i see stars, sparks, before my vision clears. Every inch of my skin feels electrified.” …huh. not so subtle then, i guess. i knew bc of the description behind the book that she discovers she has powers despite being a red. but wow, electricity, huh? nice.

anyway, back to the read. she says she think she touched an exposed wire and got pricked by the thing, but the porch light lit up. it was definitely her.

she and her dad head back inside, an mare mentions how her mom would be happy hes going out. she also mentions nowadays he repairs trinkets for kids, even if he barely works. he asks her not to tell her mom. he doesnt want to give her hope that hes getting better when hes not. he doesnt think hell ever get better. thats… hm. war really does things to one. she agrees, they both wish things were better.

she feels the impotence again when seeing gisa sleep restlessly with her bandaged hand still over a pile of clothes. and at this point i realize that they probably cant even afford medicine. that hand is hurting like a bitch. and gisa has to try and sleep through it. what the fuck.

mare opens shades letter- oh yeah, that happened, even before kilorns master died -and catches the same phrase farley said in the video on her brothers letter. he is in the scarlet guard. oh…

[xeo-kunsatan]

Beast Choices Chapter 1. Diagnosis

Long time ago in Pacopolis... A Russian/Korean Woman have opened her consultory for the first time, ready to receive her first patient.

Muriel Plizetxki.

Age: 21 years

Gender: Female

Birthday: April 4th

Sign: Aries ♈

Race: Purple Sphere-Russian/Korean

Blood type: B+

From her office's door, her First patient have arrived.. It was a insecure and tired white orb next to his mother wich was speaking with Muriel about her son's bad behavior, wishing Muriel would make him change into a perfect boy, to then left him in the office.

Betrayus Spheros

Age: 18 Years

Gender: Male

Birthday: October 28th

Sign: Scorpio ♏

Race: White Sphere-American

Blood type: A-.

–Remember Miss in 2 months of therapy i will give you his Diagnosis–

Muriel said trying to be professional.

–I hope you can handle him, he is sooo complicated... Well see ya Tray Tray, be good– Said the old woman before leaving the office.

–Wow.. what a nice woman..– Muriel said sarcastically.. –Y-Yeah... I guess..– he said with a notable uncomfortably.

The ambient was quiet for a moment, but Muriel started speaking.

–Welcome to this office Mr Spheros, or how can I refer myself to you?– –B-Betrayus.. just Betrayus

--Said bashful the white guy..

--Alright Betrayus, so.. Tell me... What are your problems?

Betrayus was quiet and nervous but he took a break and started narrating..

–Well.. Doctor.. My problems started literally since I born,.. my Dad died when i born... So my mother andmy brother.. they saw me as the guilty of his death and a black sheep...i Dunno if my older sister thinks the same of me....

He was narrating while Muriel was taking notes of his testimony.–

–I didn't knew how my father was, when i tried to ask my mom about him...she just avoid that topic and told me a "shut up" instead, My sister isn't in home for almost all the day because of her work, when i saw her, we just have a short conversations about future stuff and what places we want to visit so i forgot to ask that to her.. and my brother.. he just avoids me with Mom's same behavior.. i think i partly know why he is Mom's favorite..

–Because he is the same shit as her?–

Muriel commented in a jocking way.

–Heheh.. Exactly– He Chuckled

–Is that all, or there's is more you want to share?.. Like.. your childhood?– she said interested while she was still taking notes.

–Well.. about my childhood..it was hard too, i went to the same school as my brother, he was the brilliant Student of the class, he was the best in Chess, math, history, lenguage, football, swimming, golf and hockey. How I'm not like him, for a weird reason classmates sees me as a

Mr no One or a freak, some of them used to bully me....– He added

–Uhuh..– Muriel Answered while she was writting in a new paper

Betrayus seemed a little mad at Muriel's dry attitude, like thinking she wasn't giving a care about his feelings.

– Agh... you know, whatever, that's not important.. you're were just paid to control me

Betrayus's mad expression changed in a melancholic one, something Muriel noticed quickly, then she said him with a warm voice tone and a clumsy smile.

–Don't worry, i will not judge you, even when my work is hear your problems and understand you to then give you dry advices, i really want to help you, i know so well how do you feel, I'm sorry if I sounded like i didn't care, Heh.. This is my first work day and you my first patient, hehe–

Betrayus was embarrassed but relieved at the same time –R-Really?, Oh dang I'm really sorry, i didn't know..–

–No no no, it's okay, it was my fault– Muriel was still with a dummy smile, something that Betrayus saw with tenderness

–Heh at least that confirms me that you're really interested in help me–

She chuckled –Yeah i guess, hehehe

And we'll continuing this, tell me what are the things wich makes you shine?–

–Things wich makes me shine?– he asked confused

–You know, your skills, in what things you are good for– she answered chuckling

–Ooh!, I get it, heh.. well I'm good in lenguage, History, Gambling, Pac pong...well.. uhm.. I don't like it anymore... Also literature and writing, I'm kinda freaky with that..–

Suddenly Betrayus noticed a familiar book from the mini library behind Muriel's.

–Is that?.. No way! Is that the Divine Comedy book!?– He said on a impressed and kinda freaky tone.

–Y-yeah wow I thought I was the only weirdo by reading that book– she was impressed as well.

–Same old, Girl!

Both started sharing their tastes having the surprise that their tastes were the same as each other while they were yelling as bakudeku fangirls.

The hours have passed and Rotunda went to take Betrayus to home.

–Im back, Im sorry if he caused you problems– Rotunda said trying to be nice.

–Ohh Miss he wasn't giving me problems, he behaved really good– She answered keeping herself as professional

Rotunda just paid the date to Muriel and left with Betrayus.

Muriel just sighs of satisfaction at watching his first patient smiling before Left.

"He has a really precious smile".

Muriel have attended another 3 patients more until the day ended, she just left the building of her office to then left to a Cabaret club where she worked to pay her career and getting psychiatrist title, work wich still he is having for actually any Monday night. Sometimes to strip or filming adult movies, Always wearing a wolf mask to hide her identity as well keeping her work as psychiatrist. It's almost hard to say if she hated her job in that Cabaret.

She ended and Left safety to her department to just feed her wolfdog Yūu, take a bath and fall sleep cuddling with Yūu waiting for the next day.

In the timelapse of the days Muriel and Betrayus continued their meetings, sometimes with Muriel taking Yūu to the meetings to give a fluffy support to Betrayus, Muriel became into a big emotional support to Betrayus as well her best friend. Something big was growing up between them.

The 2 months have passed so Muriel will give Rotunda the Diagnosis of Betrayus.

Betrayus: hehe then i told her.. Don't move, and she moved and fell from the stairs.

Muriel: Unholy Satan hahahaha... Heheh.. Hey, did anyone told you that you have a beautiful smile?

Betrayus: R-really?.. thank you..*Blushes* no one told me that before...

Muriel: they lost it. *Smiles too*

Betrayus: you know.. you have a beautiful smile too Muriel.

She blushes as well.

Muriel: i want to see you smile Betrayus..

Betrayus: me too

The door was knocked, It was Rotunda and Stratos to take Betrayus to home as well to know the final diagnosis of Betrayus.

Muriel:*opens the door* come in.

Rotunda: thanks to take me Stratos sweetie.

Stratos: always for you Mom.

Rotunda: Tray Tray, wait outside, we have something important to tell with the doctor.

Betrayus: I'm not a child mom...

Betrayus goes outside and sits in the waiting room, near to the door to hear the conversation, suddenly Yūu appears in front him and gives him warm company.

Meanwhile Rotunda and Stratos were waiting for Betrayus's Diagnosis.

Rotunda: Tell me Doctor, what's the problem with my son, did he behaved bad?

Muriel: Oh no, he is a really nice guy but there's the problem.. he has light Depression attacks but it's not too serious in his case, he doesn't need medicine or something... But the only thing he needs is real attention and affection, something wich you clearly don't give him.

Rotunda: Aghh that's fake!

Stratos: but that's not right, it's just a bratty of him.

Muriel: and... Have you asked it what's the origin of his "Bratty"?.

Stratos: well uhh...

Rotunda: uhmm... Because yes?..

Muriel: *she is mad but keeping herself professional* that doesn't have a sense, no one can have a problem or issue because yes, there always a why, the reason of your son's "Bratty" it's because of the rejection and contempt you give him because of something is not his fault, like the death of your husband, being born after the death of your husband doesn't make him a curse, he is a gift your husband left you before his death, but you prefer to see him in that way, as your husband would liked you to do that to his son.

Rotunda was completely mad so she answered that by slapping Muriel, Stratos was shocked as well Betrayus wich was hugging Yūu stoping her to attack Rotunda.

Stratos: M-Mom..

Rotunda: don't talk about my husband!! you can't tell me how to rise my children, you're not a mother to know that!!.

Muriel:... Maybe I'm not a mother, if i were one i will not treat my children as a bullshit, i would treat them with love.. as my mother used to do

Rotunda: Arrgghh... This is a Nonesense... Stratos take me home..

Stratos: y-yes Mom..

Rotunda have left the office just to meet up with a angry Yūu, Muriel noticed that and ran off the office to calm down Yūu.

Muriel: Yūu-Min No! Calm down Girl, calm down...

Yūu calms down and looks at Betrayus worried.

Stratos;*sneezes* Wolf!!...

Rotunda: Ahh! Beast!!

Muriel;*lies* its actually, an Malamute Alaskan.

Betrayus: i heard everything... Mom.. it's not my fault my dad died, and you know what? I'm tired of you and your bullshit about me!!

Stratos: Betrayus don't speak in that tone to our mother!!!.

Betrayus: *mocks* don't speak in that tone to our mother.. you are just defending her because "you are his favorite child"...

Rotunda: that's it! Betrayus you better take your stuff and leave the house!

Betrayus: in that it's the only thing I can agree with you, mother.

Rotunda: hah, i doubt you can live without me.

Muriel: well, he can live in my department, i have a extra room there.

Betrayus: R-really Muriel? Can I?.

Muriel: Sure.

Rotunda: Fine! Go with your Slut, if she can bear with you.

Muriel: at least bear with me "a slut" it's better to bear with a witch like you.

Stratos: that's enough! Mom... Let's go..

Stratos have left with Rotunda.

Muriel: uff finally...

Betrayus:*hugs her tightly* .. thank you.. Thank you so much Muriel.

Muriel: *hugs back* your welcome...

After that Betrayus started living with Muriel in her apartment as her Roommate, Betrayus find a work as pizza Delivery guy.

Where their story started and their relationship evolved into real love.

To be continued...

Extra:

Muriel and Betrayus have left a bakery with a box of chocolate donuts.

Bully1: hey Babe, what if you leave this white loser and come with a real man~?.

Betrayus; Aghh.. not him..

Muriel: Tray Tray.. hold my donuts *give him the box of donuts*

Betrayus: Muriel?...

Muriel starts beating up the guy to make him Run.

Betrayus:... She is a real lady~♥

[honsoolie]

don’t rush | 02

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, eventual smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings (for this chapter only): mentions of stage fright/performance anxiety, swearing, sexual references, slight angst, dad jokes :|  

words: 6k 

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: didn’t plan to take this long for an update, life gets in the way, you know the drill. read 01 here and as always, this is crossposted to ao3 :) 

When you get inside, the warmth welcomes you in. You’re not quite sure if it’s from the heating in the hallway or how Yoongi’s eyes had shone in the moonlight. You lean against the inner door frame, a happy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, legs a little weak in the knee. You feel light-headed, maybe from being up late, maybe from your exhausting day, maybe from the lingering remnants of Yoongi’s cologne. 

Did that really just happen? Did he really just ask for your number? Was this all a dream?

The euphoria is short-lasting, however. You still have some assignments waiting for you, and only a couple hours left until your morning classes. The tiredness never lets up, and your limbs heavy again as you make your way inside the lobby of your dorm.  

Unknown number (2:47am): hi this is yoongi 

Unknown number (2:47am): did you get inside ok? 

You (2:48am): yeah

You (2:48am): did u? 

  Yoongi (2:50am): im walking back now 

Yoongi (2:50am): you should sleep soon :// 

  You (2:51am): I still have hw :( 

You (2:51am): text me when ur back inside too 

  Yoongi (2:53am): lmaoo is it counterpoint hw 

Yoongi (2:54am): it’s so sweet that you care for my safety ;( 

  You (2:54am): yes sadly 

You (2:55am): ofc I care, we can’t have our amazing star pianist get hurt 

  Yoongi (2:55am): im home now

Yoongi (2:58am): you have a thing for praise, don’t you 

Even though you can’t see him, you splutter alone in your room, roommate fast asleep. There is no way that means what you think it means. 

You (3:00am): idk where u got that from 

You (3:03am): maybe i do, you’ll have to find out 

  Yoongi (3:04am): I would, but you have to finish your analysis worksheet :/ 

  You (3:15am): ugh, fuck it

You (3:15am): im going to sleep 

You (3:15am): ill just wake up early tomorrow to finish it before class 

  Yoongi (3:16am): what? No goodnight? >:( 

Yoongi (3:17am): some manners you have 

Yoongi (3:17am): what a rude girl 

  You (3:18am): aw have i been bad? 

You (3:18am): I’m sooooo sorry 

You (3:19am): gn 

The minutes tick by, and you grow more indignant than you should. Is he serious? 

Who doesn’t say goodnight back? Maybe you scared him off. Maybe all this “flirtatious” banter was just how Yoongi talked to his friends. How would you know? You don’t know anything about him. 

The same insidious doubt creeps back in. Maybe this is all a game to him. Maybe he just wanted to introduce himself to another music student in the department, you all were supposed to know each other anyway. Maybe, worst of all, he had really only meant to wake you up in the music building as a simple courtesy, no intent behind it. You groan as you sink into your bed, cradling your head in your hands. 

You (3:27am): some hypocrite you are 

  Yoongi (3:30am): I was in the showerrr relax 

Yoongi (3:31am): hm you have been bad 

Yoongi (3:33am): maybe I should punish you 

  You (3:29am): u wish 

You (3:30am): but goodnight for real, we have class in five hours :”( 

  Yoongi (3:31am): goodnight

Yoongi (3:31am): save me a spot next to you 

~

You were in the world’s smallest big crisis. 

Was Yoongi actually serious when he asked you to save a seat? Or were you just indulging in wishful thinking? Was he flirting with you last night? And if he was, what are you supposed to do now? 

Whatever he meant, you would have to face him now. 

The endless litany of maybes and what-ifs grows louder in your head, even louder than last night during your text correspondence with him.You elect to use your backpack to save the seat next to you as class time draws nearer, chiding yourself for overthinking something so casual, but it does nothing to soothe your existential anxiety. 

“Thanks for saving me a spot, I’m so glad you remembered.” A voice brings you out of your reverie. It takes a moment to register who it is at first. Your eyes meet the traditional college garb first, sweatpants and an overwashed fundraising t-shirt, then the half-tamed cowlick, that ever-present cup of coffee. Your breath catches in your throat, breathtaking despite the casual circumstances. It’s just another class lecture, you chastise yourself, but your gut twists nonetheless. 

Seeing Yoongi in such close quarters is still an adjustment for you, his presence (or even the thought of being close to him) a shock to your body. You had spent so much time languishing after him that even now, it still feels like waking up into a dream. 

You clear your throat, stalling, “Yeah, putting my backpack in the seat next to mine was sooo hard. You should compensate me for my labor.” 

You try to put on the flirty smile that you were wearing last night, but it feels like a grimace. God, you are way too nervous for this. 

You realize you’ll never get tired of the way he laughs at your shitty jokes, the way his shoulders shake and eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Yeah, I will, don’t you worry about that.” He sinks into the seat next to you and doesn’t spare you a second glance. 

Dr. Won walks in, the picture of put-togetherness, killing whatever flirty response you had formulated. 

You thought you had enjoyed having a crush before, but admiring someone and imagining a life together from afar was worlds away from talking and sitting next to said object of affection. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You shouldn’t be tripping all over yourself when Yoongi sits next to you in lecture. 

Whatever Dr. Won is saying is drowned out by Yoongi sitting next to you. It feels deeply unfair how he affects you, when he gets to sit next to you like nothing important is happening. It’s just another day in lecture, preparing for the midterms coming up. 

He’s not even doing anything, minding his own business. You shouldn’t be swooning when he is just sitting there, again bouncing his leg, taking diligent notes. From the furtive glances you steal, even his handwriting is attractive. Endearing, even if it was a little messy and looping over the printed lines.

~

True fact: the only reason why Yoongi fidgets so much is because of the effect you had on him. It drives him up the wall, the way you keep tucking your hair behind your ear. He envies your unfaltering concentration, the look in your eye when you see something on the Powerpoint slides that you have to jot down. 

Yoongi can’t stand to silently sit next to you without doing anything anymore. Taking his pen, he scrawls on the corner of your neat notes. He knows it’ll piss you off, but that’s the reaction that he wants. 

  do you have any idea what is going on 

  He watches carefully for your reaction. Satisfaction creeps into his neutral expression when you notice, confusion turning into what could only be a lovestruck smile, and then into an irritated grimace. Fuck, even the curve of your wrist was enough to drive him crazy. You pick up your pen, writing back. 

  No, stop writing on my stuff 

  Okay, new plan, Yoongi concedes. He settles for writing on the corner of his own notes, tearing off the corner. He slips the paper into your lap, fingertips skimming the top of your thigh. He doesn’t notice, but he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. 

  don’t you think dr. won dresses like an old hag 

  You write back on the scrap of paper: 

actually you could learn a thing or two from her 

  Yoongi smirks, in classic Yoongi fashion. 

You know I would rock a long skirt like her 

  Yoongi watches you read his message, smile, and then tuck the note into your notebook. 

~

After class, Dr. Won reminds everyone of the midterm coming up two weeks from now, and that’s when Yoongi senses an opportunity. The two of you walk out of class together, forced to walk side by side because of the student foot traffic.

“Do you like, want to study together sometime?” Yoongi blurts out, louder than he needs to be, even among the hum of the other students. 

 He clears his throat. “I mean, we’ve shared a lot of classes, so.” 

You can’t help but laugh in surprise, or maybe incredulousness. You resist the urge to let the satisfaction show on your face. “I didn’t know you ever noticed.” 

“Of course I did. You’re like, the biggest nerd on the planet.” Even when Yoongi is teasing you, he can’t help but sound bashful. 

You gasp in mock offense. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.” You both stop, standing at the mouth of the lecture hall. 

“Of course not.” He’s awfully close to you, close enough that you can see the mole on the tip of his nose. “That’s why I’m asking you to be my study buddy.”

It’s not necessary to be standing this close. Sure, the hallway is busy, but not that busy. 

“Study buddy? That sounds lame.” You scoff, playing hard to get. Both you and Yoongi know you’re going to say yes anyway. 

“What else do you want me to call you? My homework homie?” 

“Uh, yeah . That sounds way better than study buddy. ” You’re more proud of your humor than anything else, even if it earns a deserved eye-roll from Yoongi. 

“And midterms are coming up. So you know, mutually beneficial.” Yoongi takes a sip from his coffee, peering at you from behind the rim.   

“Like… friends with benefits?” You can’t help yourself. It’s just too easy to flirt with him. 

Yoongi tongues his cheek, he grins. “Only if you want it to be.” He’s having way too much fun with this. 

You try to hide your reaction, but Yoongi notices anyway. (He notices a lot of things you don’t realize.) Your wide-eyed shock, the blush that’s flushing down your neck, the way you open your mouth as if to say something equally as flirtatious back, your laugh, like this is actually way more casual than it is. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” He says. You could get used to the playful lilt in his voice. 

“Only if you promise you won’t just copy my work.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, suddenly very aware of how tall he is. 

“I live and die by the honor code, y/n. Of course I won’t,” Yoongi says, leaning ever closer to you in the cramped hallway. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Does a man of honor text me like you did last night?” 

“Oh come on. If you’re going to be friends with me you’re going to have to learn to laugh at dirty humor.” Friends? It’s a start, at least. 

“Who said that I didn’t like dirty humor?” 

“Hmm, I did.” There’s a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. “You’d have to be a woman of your word and show me.” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You flash an innocent smile, like you don’t see the implication of what he’s saying. 

~

Tuesdays have always been the most bittersweet day of the week for you. It’s lesson day, but oh, it’s lesson day. It feels like the day of judgement, every single week. It’s a culmination of all the blood and tears that you’ve poured into your music in the past week, another chance at evaluation. You’ve known your violin teacher longer than you’ve been in college, and it still shouldn’t scare you this much.

The nervousness spins and dips in your chest as you make your way up the winding stairs that lead to the music building. You usually soothe the apprehension by reminding yourself of all the things you’ve done to prepare, just like you usually do before you go out on stage. This week you were supposed to get the rest of the Bach partita memorized and cleaned up, but it still resides in your memory as disjointed bits and pieces of what it’s actually supposed to sound like. You try to run through the parts that you were stuck on last night, but you draw a blank. You usually don’t take this long to commit pieces to memory, but when you open up your score, all you can think about is the unmoving stare of the audience. Seeing your life flash before your eyes every time you stare at your pencil markings isn’t exactly conducive to productive practice sessions. 

As you retrieve your violin from your locker and make your way to the practice room, you feel like you’re preparing yourself for your own undoing—every scale, every tick of the metronome—another step towards your demise. 

It shouldn’t be this serious, but the pitter-pattering of your heart says otherwise. You glance at the clock. It’s time. You pack up now, so you have a couple extra minutes to wait solemnly outside of her office, staring at the posters that advertise the professionals who come to perform concerts at your college. Next week, a pianist and violinist duo is coming. In the picture, they’re smiling proudly next to a Steinway piano. They look proud of themselves. They probably don’t feel like they’re allergic to the stage, probably live for the audience’s applause. That’s probably how they ended up there on the poster, after all. 

Your violin teacher isn’t scary. She’s a homey, lovely old woman whose wrinkles come from a lifetime of smiling. She’s the type to bring you sweet, homemade pastries that are almost as warm as her hugs during the toughest parts of the semester. Which makes the moments when she’s unhappy all the more painful. It’s not her fear that plagues you, but disappointment. 

The door clicks open, and you have no more time to ponder your failures as a musician. You gather your things and head inside. Nothing inside her office has changed since the previous week. The same teetering stack of well-loved method books sits on her chair, the same humidifier whirring steadily in the corner, the same Dr. Kim Hyung-Seo sitting on the piano bench. 

“Good afternoon, y/n! How’s the Bach coming along?” She asks, like you haven’t spent the past week treating this piece like your mortal enemy. She takes a sip of her warm chamomile tea, from the same snowman-shaped mug that she’s used every week, because she is that endearing. In another life, she would probably be your grandmother. 

“Good morning. Ah, you know…” You trail off and gesture into the air, trying to hide your grimace. How could you possibly describe the unease and unsureness around performing without crossing some kind of professional boundary? 

“Let’s hear it, it’s okay. Are you all warmed up?” You nod as you unpack your things again. As you move to put the Bach score on the music stand, she tuts. 

“Didn’t we agree that this would be memorized last week?” Dr. Kim flips through her lesson notes, inky blue scrawling over the pages. “Yeah, it should be memorized. Close the score, darling.” Usually, when Dr. Kim calls you darling, warmth unfurls in your chest and you beam. You’re not feeling particularly warm right now. 

“Ah, okay…” With slow reluctance, you close the score, the plain paper cover mocking you. You lift your bow to your violin, and shut your eyes. You don’t want to watch this. 

~

Yoongi (4:38pm): Hey 

Yoongi (4:38pm): wanna study tonight :] 

If there’s anything Yoongi is good at, it’s having perfect timing. You half-walk, half-run out of the music building, sucking frigid air into your lungs. The cold weather seems to force the tears back into your eyes. If there was ever a worst-case scenario for how a lesson could go, then that was what just played out in the music room. 

Shutting your eyes won’t stop the barrage of images, playing the world’s cruelest slideshow behind your eyelids. Your teacher’s pursed lips, the still fingers clasped over her mug, the pinched brow. 

“y/n, we don’t have much more time to clean it up…” Her words echo in your head. “We’ll try again next week…” The disappointment was the worst thing, the downward tone in her voice. “I expected better…” 

You (5:15pm): maybe 

You (5:15pm): what time? 

  Yoongi (5:20pm): like now 

Yoongi (5:23pm): are you busy? 

  You (5:25pm): no I just finished up a lesson 

You (5:26pm): i’m about to study in the library if you want to join me 

  Yoongi (5:30pm): I don’t want to go to the library :( 

  You (5:31pm): why not 

  Yoongi (5:32pm): if I feed you dinner will you come to my apartment 

Yoongi (5:33pm): I really don’t want to walk to the library it’s too damn cold 

  After all, the best way to a woman's heart is through her stomach.

  You (5:35pm): fine 

You (5:35pm): it better be a hell of a dinner 

  Yoongi (5:36pm): of course it will 

Yoongi sends you his location, and you’re walking as fast as you can through the campus to make it to his apartment before you can freeze your fingers off. 

~

Yoongi’s expression is nothing short of scandalized when you show up at his door. It’s a typical mouse hole apartment, his front door identical to all the other ones that you’d passed to get here. 

“You’re not wearing gloves? In this weather?” 

“I don’t have any…” You rasp out. You’re tired. Your throat hurts from trying to hold tears back during your entire lesson, and you have no spirit left to give Yoongi an innuendo-laced comeback. 

I expected better. 

“Oh my god, you’ve been playing violin for how many years and nobody ever told you to wear gloves when it’s cold?” He leads you inside, the warmth abating the cold that’s wormed its way underneath your clothes and into your bones. 

“For God’s sake, y/n, hasn’t anyone ever told you about the importance of blood circulation?” Yoongi clasps your hands between his, rubbing and blowing air on them to warm them up. He doesn’t notice your surprise amid his chastising, muttering something about common sense. You don’t try to keep your guard up this time, just trying to bite tears back at the mention of musicianship. The firm press of his hands grounds you. 

“There.” He smiles, proud of himself. “Warm now?” 

Oh yeah, you’re definitely warm. In every dimension of the word. But you don’t tell him that, so you settle for a weak nod. 

“You can put your stuff there. I’m hungry now, let’s eat first?” You hum in affirmation as you settle your heavy backpack on his cramped couch. 

It turns out that Min Yoongi’s idea of gourmet cooking is heating up two freezer-burnt Hot Pockets while you watch him putter around the tiny kitchenette. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him without his glasses, and this is when you finally internalize that Yoongi will always look good no matter what he does or wears or says. 

“You made it seem like you were cooking,” You say, just to fill the silence. 

“Uhhhh, I don’t know who told you I was capable of cooking, but they were wrong. I can show you a good time in other ways, no?” 

You snort. 

In hopes of saving time, he microwaves both of Hot Pockets at the same time. You silently bristle at the fact that even your dinner is getting more action than you are these days. 

You and Yoongi eat together in his tiny living room, sitting on mismatched stools.  

“How did your lesson go?” Yoongi says, more focused on eating than on you. 

“Oh…” You set your Hot Pocket down, sighing in defeat. The image of Dr. Kim sitting behind the piano bench, her dissatisfaction like a noxious cloud. “I… I…  got ripped apart. I’m a little behind with preparing for the Bach festival, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing I do or prepare will make me less stressed about it.” You slump onto the counter, recounting all the things you did wrong in your lesson today. I expected better. 

“What’s the stress about? We still have over a month, right?” You’re suddenly jealous of Yoongi. His nonchalance, his seemingly constant reassurance that everything is going to be okay. 

“I’m not worried about that… just, no matter how much I practice, I’m gonna fuck it up on stage.” Your forehead pinches in frustration. 

“Are you that nervous?” 

“I’ve always been this nervous. For any performance. I haven’t performed alone in a while… and you know. It’s Bach, and everyone expects me to do some amazing job, and it’s like, I don’t know if I can deliver that and-” Yoongi eases his hand on your shoulder, calm, reassuring. He looks concerned. Like he cares. Like a friend. 

“When was the last time you played something just for the fun of it?”

“I don’t know, maybe my freshman year? I used to arrange themes from movies.” 

“We should work on something together, just for fun. We’re such a perfect instrument combo, there’s so much repertoire for violin and piano.” 

“What did you have in mind? Do you even have enough time for that?” (You know you don’t have enough time for that.) 

“It doesn’t even have to be a difficult piece. It could be something easy or hard, I don’t care.” Yoongi ponders his next words over a bite of his food. “I… I... just want to see you less stressed out. And music should always be fun, not just for a grade. What kind of music would you be making if you weren’t happy?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“I know this one Brahms piece that I think you’d like. Totally fits your vibe. We can just work on it slowly, you know? Or we could arrange the Anpanman theme song, I don’t care.” 

~

“I think I’m mostly good for the midterm, except for the composer dates,” Yoongi spins around in his office chair, dragging his feet on the ground. 

“Me too,” You say, as you drink in the sight of his room. For someone who claims to abhor studying and all things academic, Yoongi appears to be quite the organized student. Despite the constant claim that his education is merely a necessary evil, he keeps his notes organized in uniform binders on a well-cared for bookshelf. The bookshelf is adjacent to the extremely detailed wall calendar, marked full with due dates and deadlines in pens of various colors. 

He runs his fingers over the binders to locate the binder allocated to the species counterpoint class you’re taking together. 

“I already have flashcards for everything before the Romantic Era, but I’m so fucked for everything else.” 

“Why not just use Quizlet like everyone else?” You say. You eye his neatly made bed and the Kumamon stuffed animal shoved hastily underneath it. 

“Back in my day, we used flashcards like cavemen,” Yoongi reasons, despite the fact that your birthdays are months within each other. “And besides, they feel better in your hand.” Of course, they’re indexed by color and musical era. 

~

“Ugh, I hate sitting at my desk. My back is starting to hurt,” Yoongi says, despite having worked for about ten minutes. “Do you want to lay down?” He pats the fluffy comforter adjacent to him. Yoongi doesn’t wait for your response however, plopping down on the bed with an audible thump. 

“Okay, old man,” You jibe, but you’ve also been sitting for a majority of the day. Your back is aching too, but you’ll never admit it to him. 

Sometimes, at times like these, you wish you could just muster up the courage and stop playing this game of cat and mouse with him. When you lay on his sheets that smell like him, quizzing each other, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings for him, right then and there. 

Or outlined exactly how exactly you would take his cock in your mouth, given the chance. Other times, you consider the fact that he might like to play with his food before diving in. Whatever it was, it scared you, the unease climbing up your spine and staying put. 

You wonder if he understands the implication of you so casually lounging on his bed, but then you realize that you likely don’t exist in the realm of romantic possibilities for him. He likely sees you as the nerdy, sexless violinist that spends all her time slaving away in the practice room or the library. That’s why you’re here, after all. To help study for the midterms coming up. “Being friends with him is better than nothing,” you tell yourself, but you can’t really bring yourself to believe it. 

You don’t remember, or at least don’t care to, when Yoongi started touching every aspect of your life. It’s really only been a couple of weeks since the two of you started studying together. You don’t dare to imagine how much of your thoughts he would occupy if you continue your friendship into the coming months. If your crush of massive proportions was bad before, it’s truly out of hand now. It certainly didn’t help that he actually knew you existed now. He spammed you gifs of baby animals while he was on the way to class, texted you links to performances of pieces that he was working on. He even began to send you teasing texts on the mornings that he made it to the practice rooms before you. 

Every experience you have is colored by thoughts of him. The coffee that you drink like ambrosia conjures up images of him sitting across from you in some far-off sunlit cafe, laughing at all your jokes. On the nights when sleep escapes  you, you lay awake rehashing over and over what you had said to him on the previous day. You even fall into reveries when he’s sitting there right next to you. 

 It’s inescapable, especially with the Bach Festival looming over your head. The more time you spend in the practice room, the more you go back to that one fateful night. You can still see the image of him now, sitting before the piano, playing Chopsticks. 

You both make your way through the fat deck of flashcards, Yoongi quizzing you first. 

“J.S. Bach?” You note to yourself even the upswing in his voice was cute. How did you ever let yourself get so whipped?

“1685 to…” You falter, still stuck on his voice. Even his voice drives you crazy. 

“Come on, you should know this.” He drives his point home by poking you in the side, and he likes the gasp that you make. 

“1750.” Of course you know Bach’s birth and death dates by heart. You see it every time you open up your score. Even the scant prod he gave you in the side, over your clothes, is enough to make your skin heat up. 

“And if you ever tickle me again, you won’t live long enough for midterms,” You threaten, but your harsh tone of voice doesn’t reach the light in your eyes. 

“Brahms?” 

“Ugh, fuck, I don’t know. 1832 to?” 

“Wrong.” He sets the cards down next to him, looking at you in mock disappointment. In an instant, he attacks you with tickles, and your efforts to bat him away are fruitless. 

“This-this is what you get for not knowing when Brahms was born! Learn through punishment! 1833 to 1897, remember that next time!!” He collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck, unrelenting. Yoongi sounds almost gleeful in your torture. 

You writhe under his touch, and for all the wrong reasons. 

For the first time in your life, you’re almost glad you’re ticklish. Your eyes roll back into your head, not of your own accord. It’s too much, the soft skin of his cheek pressed up against your neck, the warm weight of his body against yours, the way his legs cage you in. A moan slips in between your helpless giggles, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. 

“Uhhh, what was that?” He doesn’t stop, merciless in his advance. “I didn’t know you liked tickling… like that.” He’s teasing you, now. He can’t hide his pleased grin. 

Between gasps, you manage to pant, “I… don’t…” 

“Then what? Tell me.” That’s when Yoongi relents, leaning back. He continues to straddle you, because he’s cruel like that. (And because he likes it too.)

“You’re just… ugh, I don’t know… so close.” In Yoongi’s eyes, you’re a study in debauchery. From your struggle, your hair is mussed, the hem of your shirt awry. Your cheeks are flushed, from embarrassment or from the tickling, you don’t know. Your chest frantically rises and falls, trying to regain your breath. 

You, on the other hand, feel fucking ridiculous. Contrary to popular belief, being on the recieving end of tickling is fucking physically exhausting. 

Yoongi is stuck on the hot and bothered look on your face, except for the hard look in your eye. You despise being tickled, even if it is Min Yoongi doing the tickling. He wonders what you’d look like if you were underneath him in… different circumstances. 

Would it compare? 

“I… I… I just…” You avert your gaze now, hiding your face behind your hands. You can’t stand to look at him right now. 

“Spill it, or I’ll go back to tickling you until you break.” He grabs your hands away from your face, pinning them next to your head. 

He really isn’t going to make this easy for you, is he. 

This is overwhelming. The eye contact is too much. The weight of his hands on your wrists, holding you down, is too much. The way his panting breath tickles the skin beneath your collar is too much. You’ve had a bad day, the voice in the back of your head whispers. He makes you forget how awful this semester has been. He makes you feel better. Make this day easier on yourself. Just give in. 

There’s no hiding it now, you concede. 

You shut your eyes, unable to face him. “It’s just… been a while.” 

“Uh-huh. Continue?” He places his hands back on your stomach, as if in warning. 

“Since uhhhh… I’ve done… anything… with anyone…” Your words hang heavy in the air. Your secret is out. 

He laughs. He really has the audacity to laugh. 

“Shut up! I’m just like, touch starved, okay?” You’re definitely just blushing out of embarrassment, at this point. 

Yoongi starts to ponder if he crossed too far of a line, but you continue anyway.  You huff, indignant and desperate to cover your ass. This is not how you ever imagined telling Yoongi you were ever interested in him, sexual or not. 

“Not everyone is like, the campus pussy magnet and gets to fuck whenever they want,” You say. 

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m not the campus pussy magnet. We’re... not so different. I haven’t been with anyone, um, in a while.” Now Yoongi takes his turn to blush and stutter. He does that thing he always does when he’s nervous, runs a hand through his hair and lets it rest on the nape of his neck.  

“I find that hard to believe. No need to lie out of pity. Like, come on. Look at you. You’re all…” You gesture down his body, “And you have that whole vibe going on, and you’re tall, and you have good taste in cologne, and-and-and you play the piano , and ugh. You should know that by now.” You babble on. You’re not that good at keeping secrets, anyway. Might as well let the cat out of the bag while you’re at it. 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you’re not fazed. By now, you’re used to the long silences that elapse when you’re with him. You wait for him to talk first, just so you can discreetly enjoy the feeling of him straddling you for a little longer. You try to pass off the silence as you quietly fuming at him for calling out your lackluster sex life, but you’re really just trying get yourself together. 

Then he starts laughing. Again.  

“What are you laughing for now?” Your brow furrows in frustration. 

“Nothing, nothing, don’t be mad. I just didn’t think that tickling would be a turn on for you.” 

“It’s not!” 

“To be completely honest with you, you look like one of those really innocent soft girls on the outside but you’re actually like, into choking and have a secret sex dungeon.” He doesn’t seem to care that you’ve all but revealed your massive, terminal crush on him. 

You sigh, but you’re just glad he gave you something to fire back with. 

“You and I both know that the university dorms are too small for a sex dungeon, Yoongi. I can’t even have candles in my room. What sex dungeon is complete without candles?” 

“Oh, a devil in the details. The ambiance is important, I see…” That devious smile of his makes a comeback. 

“Oh, shut up. Give me the flashcards, four-eyes.” He relinquishes the flashcards, but he still continues to straddle you. 

“Woah, there’s no need to insult my glasses.”

You ignore him, desperate to move on from your momentary lapse in judgement. “Haydn?”

“1732 to 1809. What about music? Music must be important if you care about the ambiance. Answer my question.” 

You laugh to cover up how worked up you are. “Maybe you can find out after we finish reviewing. Scarlatti?” 

“1660 to 1725. What kind of music do you listen to? R&B, something sexy?” He sits up now, spurred on by your refusal to answer his questions. 

“Or do you listen to classical music then, too? Does Chopin get your blood flowing?” He’s being insufferable now.

You groan into the pillow. “Yoongiii, let’s focus.” 

“If it’s something like Liszt, I’m sure I have a couple recommendations.” 

Yoongi sits up straighter, waggles his eyebrows in a way you definitely shouldn’t find endearing. “Or, I could record something for you…” 

You snap. “Just, I don’t know, sometimes I listen to music?” Your attempts to stop the blushing are in vain, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck. It’s even harder to stop when it’s your embarrassingly short sexual history on the line. 

“I prefer dirty talk anyways…” You murmur under your breath, wishing he could just get the fuck off your case. The more he keeps talking about things like this, in that tone of voice, the harder it’s going to get to keep your ever-growing crush a secret. 

Still, some small part (let’s be honest, the monkey brain part of you) of you, the part of you that aches for him, wants to spur him on. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing! Nothing.” 

“Hmm… something about dirty talk?” Fuck, does Yoongi have a good ear. He smiles. He knows he’s gotten you now. 

Okay, you should probably admit to yourself that he’s flirting with you now. The touches, the holding you down, the insistence on pushing this tiny matter, it all adds up. And the math says that Min Yoongi is flirting with you. 

“Mmm, nothing.” You snuggle a little deeper into his bedsheets, playing coy.

“You know, like during sex? Don’t make me tickle you again, because I will stoop that low.” 

“I don’t remember saying that…” You mock-pretend to ponder his question, catch your bottom lip between your teeth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his gaze fall downward. You know you’ve gotten him now. 

“Can you refresh my memory?” 

“Like… you know.” He shrugs. 

“I’m an auditory learner. Do you have an example?” 

“Hmm, let me think… I’ll tease you until you’re begging for me to touch you properly? Does that ring a bell for you?” 

“No…” You bring your hands to your face to cover up your blush, and because you can’t stand to look at him. Not when he’s talking to you like that, with that look in his eye, his hands on your body. “It doesn’t…” You laugh, even beneath his weight. 

He laughs. “I’m just teasing. You’re so cute when I get a rise out of you.” 

Oh. 

[fizzingwizard]

;______; just heard that from September we’re gonna have three students in our cluster who are under 1 year old... (5 in the school total)

aaahhh im exhausted just thinking about it

and whats crazy is in one of the classes with under 1 yos there is a kid who is between 1-2 yo and she cannot walk yet. We have been trying to help her learn and have begun wondering if there is some reason beyond her mother just didn’t really encourage her to walk before. (Like maybe she needs leg braces etc.) So far no news on that but this kid only drags her feet around, obviously she needs constant help, and there are 12 other kids in the class, two of whom are under 1 and three teachers, HOW are they supposed to do it???

and the class that will have three under 1s has two first year teachers in it, that makes me so nervous... They’re both awesome coworkers, this is no shade on them, but under 1s can be TOUGH, it’s SO easy for them to get hurt. idk it feels like an accident waiting to happen.

i’ve been at schools where 5 students was an entire class, if we’re gonna have this many under 1s we should just have a class for them, come on! I love them but they are twice the work of kids on year older than them.

Also the recommended teacher-student ration for 1-3 yos is 1:6, which we abide by, but I believe it’s actually 1:3 or 1:4 when the kids are belong 18/12 mos. Apparently the head office does not care.

These kids are not in my class, I currently teach 2-3s, however I am a long care teacher and I look after them during morning and after care. I do their nap and their snack and play time supervision etc. From 10-2 they’re part of their class, but the rest of the day they belong to all of us.

More work ranting under the cut because I guess I just need to vent to the air.

And we have a LOT of students now - two clusters of going on 30 in each, in very small classrooms where the teachers are expected to watch them like a hawk AND keep constantly busy with numerous tasks at the same time.

Plus our prep time has been cut down this year despite additional work getting put on us, and we have no extra help.

If one teacher is out sick, no one gets prep time.

Don’t remember if I whined about this before, but a month or so ago we had a meeting in which the leader said “If you find you don’t have enough prep time, that’s on you to manage your time better.” It was super condescending and annoying. I’m like, dude, my contract says I get 1 hour prep and 1 hour break. We never ever EVER get the full two hours (and I should mention this is never consecutive, it’s 15 min here, 30 min there, 1 full hour if you’re really lucky). It’s usually at most 1 hr 45. But a 30 min break is fine! I’d love to take a 30 min break. Almost never do. Way too busy.

Like, I won’t get into it, but the laundry list of Stuff To Do recently has been ENORMOUS. In my class, I have 19 students. One of my co-teachers is part time, meaning she’s not around to help during much of prep time, and the other is a leader meaning she’s constantly in meetings or doing leader assignments. They are both fantastic co-workers, but yeah, this means I do ALL the class stuff. I prepare all the crafts, I do a ton of the organizing, and I’m often the only teacher from my class available in the afternoons because part-time teacher went home and leader teacher is in a meeting. So I end up with a lot of the after care stuff.

We have to hand out these big projects that teachers are responsible for preparing for each student on 8/16. We know these are coming and prep for them as soon as possible, but like, I won’t get into this either lol, but it’s so hard. It’s time-consuming by itself, and made worse because all the school computers are crap (like takes-15-min-to-start, another 10 to open the browser, 5 to go to the website, then it freezes, then 5 more, another freeze, etc) and like you have 15 min break time hahahahaha.

I wanted to get such a head start that I just started doing what I could back in the beginning of the year but we lit can’t do the bulk of the work until a certain kind of envelope is delivered and that doesn’t come till summer for some stupid reason. Soooo our long prep days in April when there are no kids around... can we use those to prep for this project? Heck no!

Anyway. This year’s is due on 8/16. This coming week we are off for obon break. This year also, the company is doing the project slightly differently. Instead of staggering what class gives out their projects to their students when, we all have to do it at once. We are our company’s biggest school, sooo my honest thought is no one at the head office thought about us when they made this change. The other schools don’t have to stagger anyway, they have at most two classes. We have four.

So this means everyone is printing their projects at the same time. For one student, you need 10 sheets on A3 paper. For my class of 19, that is 190 sheets of paper. For four classes, we’re over 700 sheets total. THAT IS A LOT OF PAPER.

So I get to work this morning and boss says “Yeah so we’re out of A3 paper.”

!!!

IT’S DUE MONDAY.

There was a little bit left so I just charged and printed as much of my stuff as I could in the morning before anyone else could. Then, miraculously, another packet of A3 paper appeared out of nowhere, and we were able to print most of the rest of our students’ projects. (My coworker who is a leader has not printed hers yet because she is super busy and isn’t finished. Again, she’s an awesome coworker, I wish I could have helped her more, but uh, I’m also swamped and not taking breaks, so. Hopefully she can do it before we really do run out of A3 paper.)

Getting more paper is no big deal, it’s just that no one has the time, and this is due Monday.

So I was super stressed. Sooooo super stressed for such a dumbbbb reason. And I don’t understand why these projects have to go out on Monday anyway. Some kids don’t even come to school on Mondays. Like. Just make sure they get them next week, isn’t that good enough?? Why make us stress and panic.

Everyone else seemed fine though, I was the only one tearing my hair out because I’m the type who finishes everything a day early so I have a day to check it over... I am not spontaneous and I hate to rush...

I lit told my coworkers, because regardless of the paper situation we are still behind because we have not had any time to organize the projects, that I will just stay late tomorrow to do it. It’s the Friday before a break so I don’t mind too much. I am really tired tho and would of course rather just go home and sleep but. I’ve done this before. Finishing up this project will take 1.5 hours - 2 hours at the current state it’s in, IF I can just sit down and do it uninterrupted. (Have I mentioned these projects are HEAVY?? And there’s 19 of them?? It’s a big job just to take them out and start putting them together >.<)

So tomorrow evening that is what I will likely be doing -.-;

There are INNUMERABLE other STUPID parts of this project - the idea behind it is great, but the way we are required to make it is absolutely bonkers and desperately needs a revamp but does anyone listen to a preschool teacher? heck no lol

uggh.

I feel better after venting tho.

I like my job, I just wish humans in general gave a shit, not even about quality of life (since obvs that���s expecting too much lol, also as a person with privilege I’m aware I’ve already got it pretty darn good), but just about not making jobs that are ridiculous. Just plan them out better, sheesh. There’s no reason for all this running around. The projects don’t need to be printed. Or they don’t need to be so huge. They don’t need all this fuss and nonsense. They are a good idea, but we could do them in a way that would be sooo much less stressful.

(The funniest part of all being, it’s a project for the parents mainly, and the parents... don’t like it x’D No they really don’t. They are happy to have the project, but first they’ve got to get it home, and it is HUGE and HEAVY and UNWIELDY lmao. And some of them are carrying twin 2 year olds and both of their futons home as well, and we’re like “here you go, two giant projects for you to take home!” And the parents are like “thanks????”)

[tomie-elle]

Haikyuu Matchup

@myeggodied: "Here for a matchup! I go by Keyo or Yo, either one. I’m 18, female. i’ve got brown hair, hazel eyes, i’m 5’2, i’m a Taurus. Born May 2nd. I’m super introverted, pretty shy, but I try my best to be nice to everyone (once u get to know me im loud). I LOVE cats and food. My love language is DEF acts of kindness, and physical touch. I’m a middle child, I like to draw, read and for some reason I find math fun. My favorite song is CharcoalHearts by Bones. As a kid I always found a way to bring a new cat home..lol. In a s/o I want someone very very attentive and tall/big, specifically male please. But a romanic rel. is ideal and I would like to know how my matchup and I met. Thank you so so much for doing what you do, you’re amazing. 💜"  

Hi Keyo (I love your name btw it's really pretty), the HQ boy I would most likely match you with is... 

Iwaizumi Hajime   

Iwaizumi=Best Boi

he for sure knows how to take care of his S/O

kind, caring, and supportive he’s everything you could ask for 

plus have you seen those arms (there's a reason why he is the arm wrestling champion) 

Reason(s): the main reasons for me choosing Iwaizumi as your matchup is because: 

attentive/understanding: you had voiced your want of an S/O who is an attentive partner and due to Iwaizumi's very supportive nature I thought that it would be a great fit for you. Iwaizumi is very perceptive with him  being one of the only people that is able to notice Oikawa's slight change in behavior/attitude, he for sure would notice when something is wrong and would be very pro-active with constant light-hearted advice and words of support/praise. In addition as a fellow introvert I understand that starting conversations with people your comfortable with can be a burden, with Iwaizumi's attentive native he would totally notice when your starting to go back into your shell so he'll always help start and continue the conversations when needed.

love language: Iwaizumi's love language has to be physical touch. He totally seems like one of those people who would rather express themselves through their actions rather than their words (I think he would have a hard time expressing himself through words, he would never be able to say want he really means). Having someone have the same love language as you can make a relationship a lot easier because it makes the communication between you both better because of it's easier to understand the person's actions/words. Iwaizumi's favorite form of intimacy would probably be just holding you, like whenever, he just loves having you in his arms (but like who wouldn't want to be held by Iwaizumi). He also loves hand holding, it makes physical touch a lot easier/more convent from, and it's one of the ways he's able to communicate with you. For example, when he notices that you're nervous he'll gently squeeze your hand to let you know that he's there, or when you're holding hand he'll kiss the back of your hand to let you know that he loves you. 

Scenario: (1st meeting) 

Spring, the season of new beginning filled not only with flowers blooming but with endless possibility. You had been hoping for a new beginning yourself with last year in the past, and the new year ahead all you could think about is getting out of school and doing bigger and better things for yourself. You’ve always been on the shyer side at times letting people and opportunities often pass you by because of your genuine fear of being a burden to others and always wanting to be perceived as kind. But that's you in the past, the new you isn’t going to let some dumb bullies harass a sweet and innocent little kitten. While on your way home from a long and tiring day at school, the only thing that sounded good right now was being able to draw in the comfort of your bedroom to let out all the tension and stress school brings with it. As you continue daydreaming and wishing the walk from school wasn’t so damn long, you happen to hear the loud laughter of a group of middle schoolers crowding around each other in the middle of an alleyway. Not really paying any attention to the crowd you continue on with your walk home, until you hear the slight meow of a kitten. You look back one more time into the alleyway and while the children clear for just a second you see a horrific scene. A small kitten was being placed inside a cardboard box and as suddenly as it entered one of the middle school boys started to throw rocks at the box, one by one each of the boys started to throw rocks at the cardboard box with the kitten trapped inside. Horrified and infuriated by the scene before you, you couldn’t just watch helplessly as a bunch on middle school losers were torturing a small and fragile kitten. You run to the kitten's rescue hoping to be able to stop the boys before they could inflict any more damage on the little cat. Screaming at the top of your lungs, “Get the hell away, you little dickheads, I’m going to call the cops of you all”. Stopping, all the boys can’t help but stare at a 5′2 being running at them full speed screaming like a maniac offering to call the cops, not wanting to look scared one of the boy's answers back with, “Yeah call the cops, I ain’t scared of you” and proceeds to shove you to the ground. But as soon as you are shoved a pair of muscular arms are wrapped around your waist to stop your fall. “You should be scared” the mysterious figure behind you growls at the boys. As if they had seen the devil himself, the boys couldn’t help but start to run away. Looking back at the figure behind you, all you can see is a pair of green eyes staring back at you with a look of concern. “Are you all right?”, the boy questions, “Yeah I’m good, um... thanks for that by the way,” you answer. “Hey it was no problem, they needed to be taught a lesson don’t you think.” “Yeah for sure” you giggle back, getting a better view of the mysterious boy, you can’t help but drool at how handsome he is, with a muscular figure and a pair of light green eyes, you can’t help but stare. “Sorry”, looking away shyly cursing yourself for staring too long, “It’s ok”, he answers back with a soft smile, “I wanted to tell you that what you just did right there was pretty badass you know that. Running to save that kitten it was really cool,” the stranger says with a slight blush, he always looks nervous you note to yourself. “What?!?” you quickly answer back, “Me? cool you’re literally the one who scared them all away with just one look”, looking away you can’t help but feel the warm blush start to litter your face. What are saying Keyo?!? you curse yourself. “The names Iwaizumi Hajime”, “Keyo or just Yo, whatever fits”, you shyly reply. “Keyo...that’s a very pretty name, I like it”, Iwaizumi says. You now your face is red, a handsome stranger complimenting you what is going on you ask yourself. While continuing to curse yourself for looking like an idiot, Iwaizumi can’t help but stare at the beautiful stranger in front of him. He remembers seeing you moments ago run into an alleyway screaming at the top of their lungs to save a little kitten, he can’t help but start to laugh. As you hear Iawizumi laughing beside you can’t help but ask, “What?” continuing to laugh he’s able to answer back with, “It’s just...nothing...nothing at all”. And just like that, your life can change as easily as deciding to scream at a bunch of middle schoolers.

(*srry if this sucked, my brain=not work sometimes*)

Honourable Mentions:  

1. Hakuba Gao

2. Kuroo Tetsurō

3. Ushijima Wakatoshi

[drashleighreid]

ALLLLLL 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

oooo snap dude! 

1. Who did you first come out to, if anyone?

the first time i remember having an actual *+*+ coming out moment with was probably my host mom. i mean id been like actively out in certain circles before that for a while but it was the first time i was genuinely nervous about it and felt like i was doing the whole*+*+ thing 

2. Favorite LGBT singer/instrumentalist?

i actually really love mary lambert bc she covers my childhood faves but makes em GAY 

3. What’s your gender + orientation?

f lesbian 

4. Who’s the best Gay Icon™?

hmmm idk ! can i say britney spears lmao 

5. Do you have a partner?

no : (

6. How long did your questioning process take (if you’re not still going through it)?

oh worm ! lol i dont know an exact amount of time. i kinda went like .... oh im straight ...... ohhh ok maybe im bi ....... im pan i love everyone !!! now im like wow women are iconic ! (even tho i identify as lesbian i still dont know what the fuck is going on ?? i still stand by the fact that sexuality is fluid n this could change at some point !! but women rock and men make me uncomfortable so lol ! thats where im at and its valid ! )

7. What movie/video game/TV shows have you stolen from the straights?

hmm ! i dont really know what this means tbh ??? like ?? a straight thing that i like or one that i wish was gay or wat ? :s

8. What’s your favorite color?

orange ! 

9. Do you go to a support/pride group?

no i dont! i always think about joining the university one in O week but then im always too nervous to go up to them and i stupidly i dont like joining groups n going to events by myself lol even tho i know thats how u meet people ! anyway ! disaster lesbian here 

10. Have you ever been to a pride event?

i actually havent ! fake 

11. What’s your favorite thing about your flag(s)?

its pretty & sof ! it makes me wanna eat raspberries 

12. Favorite LGBT artist/writer?

oo i actually have no idea ! i havent read much in a looong ass time nd dont really follow artists that much 

13. How often do you get tired of The Straights?

every damn day my pal 

14. How do you express your sexuality/gender?

im more confident in expressing it online through my shitposting lol. irl im not as open about my sexuality. ive tried to be a little more this year but it left me feeling a little uncomfortable because of the situation. i dont really think about //expressing// my sexuality or gender that much. i dont dress in a certain way or anything that is explicitly +*+*+gay lol

15. Has Tumblr been more harmful of beneficial to you when it comes to discussing LGBT issues or figuring yourself out?

more beneficial. its a space where i actually feel comfortable and confident to be gay. im super proud of my sexuality but like ?? sometimes even when u feel that love n passion toward it some RL circumstances can lowkey drag u thru the mud so its a nice place to come and be unapologetically gay tbh ! fandom has been good for this too. like coming on here and reading fic and seeing art etc abt beautiful wonderful wlw is so lovely and makes my heart feel so nice and soft ! and sharing this experience with other people on here has been all around a pretty wholesome nurturing experience and im pretty grateful for that. 

16. What LGBT charities/organizations do you support?

there aren’t really any i follow specifically and i dont have a lot of money so its hard to give to things but i do appreciate the organisations trying to help lgbt ppl ! i know there are a lot out there. ive bought things from love is louder before because im a fuckin slut for britt snow and i really appreciate what she’s doing with that does that count lmao 

17. Distinguished, functional, or disaster?

im somewhere between functional and disaster depending on the day. 

18. Favorite LGBT film or actor?

i really enjoyed love, simon... also i liked below her mouth even tho its kinda mostly porn lol. my favorite film of all time is Frida which i mean? counts right. and actor omg there are sOOOO many ! i friggin love stephanie beatriz tbh but there are a lot of badass lgbt ppl out there 

19. Is your current environment supportive?

i mean... yeah... i live with a rly queer nb gay af person who literally writes and performs theatre shows abt being queer so being gay is something we really celebrate here! id really like to have more gay friends here who i can hang out with tho it would make it a lot more enjoyable ! 

20. What are your plans for this June?

nothing too exciting or gay sadly lol. im going home to qld to visit my family for a while so nothing super gay will be occurring lol. 3thank you so much my dear xx i hope you’re having a fabulous pride time. 

[survivor-mountmerapi]

Ep. 12: “This round feels like a season of glee” - Steven

Anastasia

So I did something finally. I flipped on the newbies and sent Madi home. Honestly the only thing I did differently was actually think about the game and numbers. Plus I talked to people and made a really good bond with DeNara. I'm also a little better with Raffy, not that it matters bcs we are somehow getting Raffy outta here I think. I know the next competition is endurance and that's apperantly Raffy's strong suit. So frick. But I know where everything stands for once. I know who is working with who I THINK. So I just need to survive next round and gain the numbers.

Gian

My revenge is coming for being left out of this vote. Idk when and how I'll do it but I will do whatever it takes.

DeNara

Thank goodness I survived this vote! All thanks to Anastasia! I need a brain break, I am so tired now lol

Raffy

An hour before tribal council, Elle decided that she would give me the immunity necklace. The reasoning she told me is that we need a strong 4 votes to cause a tie. Anastasia told DeNara that she would be flipping on Madi and Gian by voting Rachel (which is what that side thought we were doing). Because of this, I wanted to use my SWP since they would have a 4-3 majority. However, Elle believed that we could not trust Anastasia until after tribal. Anastasia could be lying and wanting me to play the SWP (which Madi and Gian happily spread around) so the newbies would have 4-3. Despite this, I wanted to be safe because I was starting to worry that Madi would play her idol on herself. The compromise would be that Elle would give me the immunity necklace which did occur. Finally, the alliance's acting paid off as Madi misplayed the idol which caused her to get voted out. Now, the Faes alliance is the majority alliance. Wig.

I have new worries going into this round. Anastasia really wants to do big moves, so she should want to vote me out now that Madi is gone. My other worry is that Anastasia is much more loyal and is a solid ally for DeNara, not me. This means, if DeNara was so inclined, she could get the numbers to vote me out. DeNara is going to get a lot of power the further we get. It's very interesting to see what the breakdown is. Due to this, I have decided to keep my door open with Gian. Steven agreed that we could potentially work with Gian to hide behind him as a shield. Also, this is kind of an emotional thing because I really do feel close to Gian. I do not know what kind of move I'd do to keep Gian this round. If he wins immunity, then it would be great and I would not have to do any maneuvering. However, in all scenarios except one, I am betraying my allies which is not a good look for me. My idea is to finally get Rachel out this round, so it would keep Gian in the game while keeping my allies good with me.

Raffy

I got on call with Gian earlier today to express a desire to work with him to target Anastasia or DeNara. I was doing a lot of talking during the call which had me worry as he seemed to just be taking in this information without providing any back. This had me skeptical on whether or not he wanted to work with me. My skepticism was correct. According to DeNara, Gian told Anastasia that I want to target her for being a wildcard this round. He used the information I gave him against me. However, thanks to my very good relationship with DeNara, I am now in the know that he does not want to work with me. Bye Gian. Say hi to Madi in jury for me. I might just use my SWP just to be sure. Plus, it forces Anastasia to target Gian instead of me for this round.

Raffy

The current plan is for DeNara to tell Anastasia that she is willing to flip after a bit of reluctance. In actuality, we are just trying to make them think that Gian is the vote. At tribal, we will all vote for Rachel instead in case there is an idol. I am VERY nervous for this tribal. I do not want to be here. According to DeNara, Elle would be the person the newbies vote for if I leave which is perfectly fine with me. I need to survive. I have to get to F6. There's really no guarantee that this plan even works in the first place. And does DeNara even trust me after hearing all that information from Gian's rat mouth? UGH. The paranoia is way too high for my liking.

DeNara

Honestly this game is so tiring, why do I torture myself with this stress? Oh because I love Survivor that's why. Lol. Soooooo Anastasia wants to flip on Raffy, Steven and Elle and take Raffy out of the game because he is a threat. Which means I am in the middle....AGAIN. It is Raffy, Elle, and Steven vs. Gian, Rachel and Anastasia. I want to stay with Raffy, Elle and Steven and take out Rachel this vote and then flip and take Raffy out next vote so I can keep the numbers but I am super super super nervous of Raffy. I caught Raffy in a lie today. I talked to Gian and he said he was on call with Steven and Raffy earlier and that Raffy was throwing my name out because I have a good relationship with Elle, Rachel and Anastasia (which I do). I called Steven and he admitted that the 3 of them did talk, but he said that Raffy was saying Rachel the whole time, not me. BUT when I went on call with Raffy, Steven and Elle I told Raffy that Gian said he went on call with him and he started to make an excuse saying he was at school all day and that wasn't true. THEN Steven said to Raffy that he already told me they were on call so Raffy had to back track..... All the newbies are saying to Raffy that they are voting for me.... so I am scared Raffy is working with the newbies to get me out since I have become such a threat.

Steven says it wouldn't make any sense for Raffy to flip and get me out now, but if they all think I have become a bigger threat than Raffy, he could very well flip and take me out. I really really hope Raffy is being honest about wanting to vote Rachel out or I am super hecked tomorrow. Here is to hoping I am in the game after the next tribal!!!!!!!

Gian

After a very insightful conversation with the VL, I've decided to grab the game by the balls and attempt to get out the kingpin of the game (again) or at least weaken him by taking out one of his minions. I'm being super careful this time about everything. Saying the right things to the right people can cause panic and paranoia and victimizing myself from the last vote--I'm using that to my advantage. Let's hope this pays off. If not, at least I'm leaving with a big swing!

DeNara

My morning of paranoia continues. I don't think Raffy will flip because it would be a stupid move rn, but I do think I need to be careful. This will likely be the last time I can truly play the middle like I have been.

I feel so bad about lying to Anastasia because she did save me, but this is what is best for my game. I also feel bad for Rachel because we have gotten close and I dont want to vote her out. Really I want Gian out next but I have to stick with my alliance.

Rachel

I love the misconceptions of this game. Even if i'm on the outside. That was an excellent play by the returnees. I am so sad to see Madi go! She was with Gian and I since day 1. I can never repay her for using her idol for me. I am just shocked Anastasia flipped too, but I understand her reasoning (even though i thought we we're a solid 4). Hopefully we can make a big move this round and if not, we'll go out trying! I just hope Gian and I are truly not at the bottom. I wish we got Raffy out sooner, but only cause he is such a great player-socially and strategically.

Elle

I'm in class rn lol but here's a convo I just had with Dylan in my Host Chat 10:10 AM VL: The amount of lies I've heard and confirmed they are lies before 9am is absolutely terrifying to me 😅 GUYS THIS IS GONNA BE SO MESSY OMG Dylan, 10:12 AM wild what all is happening 10:14 AM so yesterday, gian went on call with steven and raffy to vote denara out but then on our alliance call, raffy tried to deny any meeting when denara asked, until steven was like "no okay we called, to vote out rachel" and now denara is being a double agent trying to convince the newbies shes gonna vote for raffy in exchange for safety so it seems like maybe the newbies dont actually want denara out and are trying to scare her into siding with them? why raf and steven are lying i dont know Dylan, 10:18 AM spicy [tiktok voice] that’s suspicious...that’s weird re: raffy and steven 10:20 AM mhm?? like it's fine if they're tricking the newbies but why lie to us anyway im perfectly out of the direct loop completely because now ppl think im completely in raffy's pocket but also that me and denara are probs close so im just "she's there." Dylan, 10:22 AM oof not a fun position to be in 10:23 AM nah im fine w it i hate lying lmao this way im mostly just watching it happen while talking to ppl about like, good playlists khjdlsajldj

Anastasia

So I got Denara on board with teaming with the newbies and together we will all take down Raffys trio hopefully. We will most likely target Elle instead of Raffy so we can take out one of his minions. I think the safest option would be to vote Steven because I think nobody would expect that but Gian insists Elle. I think Elle has an idol. Lets just hope she feels safe. ALSO IM SO GLAD IM SAFE but now im just worried for my future because I obviously need numbers to move on.

Elle

D: I don't knowwww whats happening okay so basically it seems like neither side has an idol and is psyching the other out that they do but probability wise at least one person has an idol rn??? So idk ugh :/ what the heck is going on anyway I'm making a playlist and i need new music for it send me a song recc everyone reading this like a month later i promise ill give any song a listen🎶

Raffy

The plan seems to be going well. DeNara has successfully infiltrated the newbie group and is leaking their shit. According to her, the newbies are scared that I have an idol and want to target Elle instead. I would love to push this narrative, but I don't know how. If I can get them to target Elle over me, then this would be great. However, I do believe now that they do not have an idol based on all that DeNara has spilled on their paranoia. It should be a successful 4-3 with Rachel getting the boot. Then, I am guaranteed F5 in this game.

Steven

This round feels like a season of glee where people are just trying to hit plot points with no rhyme or reason

Steven

https://youtu.be/xfJ6x988Dqw

DeNara

I am in the middle and so stressed. Do I vote Rachel or Raffy?!?!?!?! Maybe it is me

DeNara

I am so stressed... oh my gosh! If I get voted out, it was a great move by the others and I will regret not voting Raffy

[phandomsecretvalentines]

Love; not wrong (brave)

Happy valentines day 💞💞 i hope u have a great day, where ever you are and whatever you do.

This is litteraly just 4k words of fluffy stuff (although phil’s lowkey drunk in one of the prompts, nothing happens other than him ranting about how perfect dan is, but if you dont like that stuff its the 14th. Theres also a few loose mentions of depression and feelings of anxiety but nothing dan and phil dont say themselves. Also swearing bcuz dan. Happy endings thoo, i mean its just oneshots lmao). I hope you like it tho it was v fun to write. All the prompts are from @inlovesuggest (i got their permisson).

(Also the numbers at the begining of some of them like “[10]” are what year it takes place in, if i think its important to include. If thats not there it can take place whenever makes sense but probably 2017/18)

Yeahhh hope you enjoy! @dan-matian (from @butterscotchwithwhitemalteasers)

(I’ll stop overexplaining now) ———- ———- ❝ i have a feeling im gonna love you for a long long time ❞ ———- [09] ———- It was the day after when Phil realised he might be in love.

After the anticipation, after the endless butterflies, after the sunset Skybar dates.

They were lying on Phil’s family sofa together, rewatching episodes of Buffy in comfortable silence. Dan’s head was laying on Phil’s chest as Phil ran his fingers through Dan’s hair, it was curling at the tips now.

Dan started giggling at some cheesy joke, and hid his smile in his hands. His red patch flared up, his dimples grew, eyes crinkled. He did have a pretty laugh.

Phil titled his head and gave Dan a look.

“I’m not laughing! Shut up.” Dan’s face turned red-rose as he pushed it inside Phil’s shirt.

Phil couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face.

“You were. But I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You’re kinda cute,”

“Oh.”

Dan’s face got even more rosy, if that was possible.

“And I think I might love you.” ———- ❝ The sound of your voice makes me realize everything is ok, as long as I’m by your side. ❞ ———- [16] ———- Even after years of doing tours and books, Phil still felt nervous on stage.

Thousands of people watching him live, expecting, hoping.

He knew they loved him, but that didn’t console the pit in his stomach whenever he was about to step on.

What did help, however, was Dan.

Dan being there. His slightly posh voice, his half-confident-half-slacking posture. His arm, brushing against Phil’s, as he rushed off to go do something; or just so they could touch for a brief moment.

It was almost time to head on. Phil could hear the audience and the pre-show music Dan set, he could feel the anticipation in the air.

Unlike Dan, Phil was a shy kid. He didn’t do drama, he didn’t preform. This wasn’t him.

Dan’s fingers loosely touched against Phil’s arm, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“We go on in five.”

Phil smiled nervously.

“Okay.”

“We’ll be fine.”

As long as they’re together. ———- ❝ when it works out, love is incredible. it’s not overrated; there’s a reason for all the songs ❞ ———- [16] ———- Before the past years, Dan had never cared for love songs.

It’s not that he thought they were bad, or that he wouldn’t listen to them, he just found them rather unrelatable and boring. How many times does one have to listen to someone sing about the touch of another person?

But then he fell in love.

Truly, truly fell in love. Not teenage romance, not a Saturday night hookup, not an unrequited crush. True, mutual, comfortable love.

And he found himself relating to the songs he found so boring.

Suddenly, every overplayed radio song was about Phil.

Every ‘his lips tasted like candy’ was about the specific sweet-sour wine of Phil’s lips on a loud Friday night and a calm Wednesday morning.

Every 'I could spend forever with you’ was not an over exaggeration, but rather, true.

Why wouldn’t he spend forever with Phil? It just made sense.

Every love song made sense.

He had girlfriends before, and a boyfriend too. But Phil was the first one to ever make him realise why people wished to be in love. ———- ❝ when i say “i love you” it’s not out of habit, it’s to remind you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me ❞ ———- Compared to other people, maybe Dan and Phil didn’t say 'I love you’ much.

They decided, after a while, they’d rather show it.

So maybe Phil wouldn’t always say 'I love you’ before bed, but he would cook dinner more days a week than Dan.

He would take care of Dan when Dan couldn’t take care of himself. Phil would always cover anything for Dan, because he knew sometimes he needed it, even if he didn’t say.

He would make sure Dan got home safe, even when he only went out for milk. He’d even go out and get milk for Dan, if he was feeling far too overwhelmed to leave home that day.

And yeah, Dan might not always whisper 'I love you’ during early morning breakfasts, but he would take care of Phil when he was feeling poorly.

He would do more editing for the gaming channel, and he cleaned up the house far more. He tried to do most of their paperwork, because it often stressed Phil.

He would put his cereal in the same place every time, even when Phil always stole it.

But sometimes they would say I love you.

Sometimes, they would wake up and breathe it into each other’s ear.

Sometimes, they would make dinner and hum, in a tone, “I lovvveeee youuuuuuuu,” while putting it on the table.

Sometimes, they would sneak up behind each other while they edited, and scream it so loud that the other jumped off the sofa.

Sometimes, Phil would whisper it to Dan when Dan was too depressed to care.

Sometimes, Dan would mutter it to Phil when he was already far past asleep.

But they both always knew. ———- ❝ those knowing looks you give me from across the room are enough to make me want to stay in this place ❞ ———- Dan hated business meetings.

He hated going outside, he hated going into a building full of near-strangers, he hated talking to said strangers, he hated trying to understand complicated business concepts at far-too-early o'clock.

He wanted to leave.

Phil insisted, always, that he could go alone. It would be fine. Dan didn’t need to be there, and he didn’t mind.

Dan never took him up on the offer, he wasn’t that selfish.

So there he was, a Monday afternoon, looking out the window and bored out of his mind. He felt like he was in secondary school again; complicated concepts, boring statistics, and an unfocused mind. What was even so much better as an adult?

Dan felt Phil nudge his knee with a foot.

“You okay?” He whispered.

Right. That’s what was better. He had Phil.

“Yeah, just bored.”

“Me too, but there’s only fourty minutes left. You’ll be fine.”

Not for the first time, Dan admired Phil’s sensibility to always bring a watch to meetings.

They had both agreed that checking your phone looked quite rude, but checking a £3 Hello Kitty watch was a lot more subtle.

“Thanks.”

Phil gave Dan a small smile from across the table, and suddenly, maybe business meetings with Phil weren’t the worst place he could be. ———- ❝ we were dancing like idiots in the parking lot to our favourite bands people were staring but your dumb smile was enough to make me not care. ❞ ———- [10] ———- //“Change, Everything you are And everything you were”//

Dan never thought he would be the one slow-dancing in a parking lot at one in the morning, but apparently love mixed with sleepless nights is a hell of a drug.

//“Your number has been called Fights, battles have begun Revenge will surely come Your hard times are ahead”//

'Butterflies and Hurricanes’ played in the background, music surrounding them. It wasn’t a favourite Muse song for either of them, but it was perfect for the night.

Phil wasn’t the best dancer, Dan could admit. But neither was he, really. And it didn’t matter. They were together.

//“Best, You’ve got to be the best You’ve got to change the world”//

People were watching them, judging, or just confused. He was sure.

But when he looked up and saw Phil’s tired smile, and felt a soft kiss press his lips, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

And so they danced, a Saturday night, in a parking lot, to a Muse song.

//“And you use this chance to be heard Your time is now”//

And Dan had never felt so content. ———- ❝ maybe i could become a morning person if my mornings started next to you ❞ ———- [11] ———- It was no secret that Phil wasn’t a morning person.

Usually, he needed at least two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal before you could even think about talking to him.

However, when he woke up with a sleeping Dan next to him, he found it hard to feel annoyed.

Dan was wrapped all around Phil, hand clutching his shirt tightly, their legs intertwined. His mouth was slightly opened, and although he didn’t snore, Phil could hear his soft breath.

He looked so young sometimes.

Dan started to open his eyes, having felt Phil’s body move.

“Mhmm?”

“Dan, I can’t reach my phone.”

Dan’s face scrunched up in distaste, “Don’t need it. 'Have me.”

Dan pulled Phil tightly into a half-hug, pinning him back down under the blankets.

He nuzzled his head into Phil’s neck, closing his eyes as his breathing steadied out again.

Maybe Phil didn’t actually mind mornings that much. ———- ❝ your laugh reminds me of all the good in the world ❞ ———- [15] ———- Dan had always loved Phil’s laugh.

From old videos, to Skype, to in person, to on the sofa next to him at three in the afternoon.

They were playing Mario Cart 8, and Dan wasn’t having the best luck. Despite being arguably worse, Phil had won every round so far, or at least gotten ahead of Dan.

Dan had managed to fling himself off the track entirely— for the fifteenth time that day— and Phil was laughing so hard Dan worried he might burst.

Dan’s favourite laugh of Phil’s.

His tounge-through-teeth laugh, where he tried to cover it with his hands but always gave in, ending up with smile lines and blushed cheeks.

Dan couldn’t stop staring. He had caused that.

He knew it was just a game of Mario Cart, that he made Phil laugh an endless amount of times, but occasionally it just hit him.

Not to romanticize, but Dan swore Phil’s laugh sounded like actual angels. It sounded like young children playing while their parents looked on; like every good thing to ever have existed, all at once. It reminded him of what happiness felt like.

“You okay Dan?”

Dan hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring for.

“Yeah. By the way, I like your laugh. Sounds nice.”

“Odd compliment, but thanks.” ———- ❝ wrapped in your arms, I feel so safe and calm. ❞ ———- Today had been a day.

Paperwork got mixed up, a venue had a miscommunication and lost a row of seats, and Phil’s birthday was in less than a week.

It was a lot for Dan at once, and he was so fucking tired.

“Phil! I need your help looking this over.”

Phil was on the phone, ordering dinner.

'Can it wait?’ He mouthed silently.

Dan shook his head violently. He was just about fed up.

Phil rolled his eyes, and muttered 'Be right back, emergency.’ into his phone.

“Alright, what?”

Dan squeezed his eyes shut tightly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know. Wait— Yes. I do know. It just is a bit blurry, in my head. Since I’m tired. Can you just explain what they said to call them for I’m really tired.”

Phil looked softly at Dan.

“It’s okay to take a break, Dan. It’s late. We can have dinner and go to bed or watch a movie.”

“No, I need this done tonight. You don’t understand. I need it perfect.”

“Not everything needs to be perfect.”

“Yes! Shit, yes. It does—”

Dan was exhausted.

Phil hugged Dan.

Dan eased into Phil’s embrace, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m tired,”

“I know.”

“And so stressed.”

Phil kissed Dan’s forehead.

“I know, let’s lie down.”

Phil grabbed his phone, finished ordering their food, and lay on the sofa with Dan.

Dan nudged into Phil’s arms, closing his eyes.

Phil lightly kissed him, and held him closer.

“You can nap for a bit, if you want. The food is fourty minutes away. I’ll be here.”

Dan sighed contently.

“Thank you.” ———- ❝ my hands are cold, would you mind holding them? ❞ ———- [11] ———- “It’s snowing.”

Dan and Phil were sitting on Phil’s balcony, sipping hot coco.

“It is,”

“It’s cold.” Dan smiled innocently at Phil.

“Yes? Do you need mittens? I think I have a pair—”

“Can you hold my hand?”

“Oh-” Phil went bright pink, “Sure, yeah, okay.”

He reached out and tapped his fingers nervously against Dan’s free hand, before interlocking them.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. It is really cold, actually.”

Dan laughed, “Yeah, I know! It actually is snowing out, it wasn’t all a ploy.”

Phil smiled warmly.

“I like holding your hand.”

“We are doing this for warmth and survival only, you dork. But, I like holding your hand too.” ———- ❝ Just the two of us, cuddling at late night. Enjoying the silence, and the presence of each other. I fall asleep in your chest, hearing your heartbeats ❞ ———- It was 2am, they’re watching a Studio Ghibli movie.

Or at least, they were, until the credits rolled and they were too lazy to pick another one.

So now, they were lying on the sofa, listening to the silence and the others heartbeat.

Dan’s head was on Phil’s chest, a grin as he heard Phil’s soft breathing.

Phil was running his fingers through Dan’s curls, twirling each one.

Dan’s eyelids slowly difted closed, and his breathing evened out.

“Goodnight, Danny.” Phil whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Dan smiled within his sleep. ———- ❝ i never want to know what life is like without you again ❞ ———- [17] ———- In more ways than one, Dan and Phil ran on parallel tracks.

Their thoughts, but their actions too. Their daily lives so delicately intertwined.

They would wake up together, one kissing the other or just the sound of an aggressively loud alarm.

They would get dressed, take showers, brush their teeth, fix their hair, in turns. Perfectly in sync. A well oiled machine.

One of them would make breakfast, or they both would. Coffee, tea, cereal. A petty argument about stolen cereal, sometimes, then a slice of toast.

They would watch TV, or an anime, but today they watched Undercover Cops. Phil wanted to spice it up a bit.

After that, they’d sit in the lounge, doing nothing, editing, or any mix of the two.

Eventually, one of them would get hungry, and they would order or cook. Today it was order, burritos from a local mexican place and salads.

After they ate, Dan would take off somewhere else to do something else. Piano, games, or random things around the house. Phil might join him, but not always. This was as much space as they needed.

After that, Dan would return in exercise clothes with yoga mats. Phil would go off to change, and would return. Either yoga or some standard workout, nothing too much, but enough to make Dan okay. Phil never minded it.

After that, they would return to the lounge and relax for a while. Maybe catch up on a show. Other times, they might film a gaming video, or even a main channel video if one was prepared.

Then one would be hungry again, and they would make dinner. Sometimes they ordered, but less and less, since Dan’s therapist recommended healthy home-cooked meals. They decided on Indian food, Tandoori Chicken and Rice, with a Stir-Fry.

After dinner, Dan would go play games, and Phil might too. Or maybe watch a show Dan didn’t care for. Maybe clean up a bit more. Always something, though. Unless it was a nothing day.

Sometime at night, they would get tired. They’d head off to bed, maybe Dan would want to shower again. They would just lay with each other, until the comfort of the other persons presence lulled them both to sleep.

They worked well together, and had done for years. It was hard to remember a time before they were each others lives.

Rarely ever alone. ———- ❝ a concept: holding hands while walking along the beach as the sun sets next to us and we kiss and we kiss and we kiss and mmmaybe kiss ❞ ———- [10] ———- After four hours, Dan and Phil had finally managed to escape from the rest of the group.

Now they were walking down the sandy beach, awkwardly watching the sunset, side by side.

Neither one really knew what they were doing, neither really cared.

The sky had just reached that violet-red-orange ice-creamed mix when Phil intertwined his fingers with Dan’s.

Dan looked up at him, pink cheeks.

They glanced at each other for a second longer, then continued walking.

“You do realise we’re literally doing that romantic-walk-on-the-beach cliché thing?”

“Yeah, but it’s nice.”

“It is,”

Dan looked into Phil’s eyes a moment, then softly pressed their lips together. ———- ❝ i love the way you sound at 3am and how you look when you smile. it’s addicting ❞ ———- [09] ———- It was three in the morning, and Phil had decided that Dan was pretty.

And not the flowy-hair-model pretty, but the timeless one. The one where your features are just— perfect.

Phil couldn’t even think of a proper describing word; although that may be the three glasses of wine he had earlier.

He looked at Dan’s fuzzy image through his laptop, admiring. Dan had been attempting to play piano, but gave up and was just lying on his bed now.

“You’re pretty.” Phil whispered.

Dan blushed. How adorable.

“Thanks?”

“Really. Timelessly beautiful. And sexy, and handsome and hot and gorgeous and every other good word. You’re— Dan. That’s perfect. Dan is a good word.”

Dan grinned wide at Phil’s drunken rambles.

“I–”

“And your voice, it’s just nice. Calming. You think it’s too posh or whatever but it’s not. It’s great Dan. It’s Dan! That’s a good thing. I love it. One day I wanna fall asleep to it and wake up to it and—”

Phil teared up at this. He wanted to be with Dan forever, and he knew it.

“Dan, I,”

Dan was looking a bit confused now.

“Yeah, Phil? Are you okay?”

“You’re pretty, Dan. That’s all. But that’s not all at all.” ———- ❝ being old doesn’t seem too awful when i think about growing old with you ❞ ———- [18] ———- Phil sighed, rolling over in bed.

“I’m thirty-one now.”

Dan smiled, “Yeah?”

“That’s pretty old.”

“Not that old, honestly.” Dan laughed quietly, “You’re barely over your twenties.”

“People my age have families,” Phil stares at the ceiling, unblinking. “They’re married with a house.”

“Kids don’t make you old, Phil. People have kids at sixteen, my mum had me at ninteen for God’s sake. And anyone can buy a house, anyone can get married.”

Phil leaned on his side to look at Dan. “You know what I mean—I could. I haven’t done that much, I’m getting old. I could die tommorow.”

Dan’s turn to sigh.

“You could’ve died yesterday, Philly.” He smiles fondly, “And you have done so, so, much. Really. You’ve gone to University, had three homes, have four million fans, gone on tour—there’s more to life than just domestic stuff. And if you want domestic stuff, we can do that too. Forever home, dog, eventually marriage and kids.”

“I know,”

“What’s the issue?”

“I dunno. I just don’t wanna die. I don’t want to be old, really. I don’t know.”

Dan glanced at him.

“You’re gonna be old. We’ll be old together. Like the great poet Ed Sheeran once said, 'I’ll be loving you 'till we’re seventy,’”

Phil giggles, “Maybe you’re right. It’ll be fun with you. You make things fun.”

“Yup. I’ll always love you, even when you have grey hair that you still dye black, and wrinkles, and smell like bad cologne.”

“Always.” ———- ❝ when it works out, love is incredible. it’s not overrated; there’s a reason for all the songs ❞ ———- [16] ———- Before the past years, Dan had never cared for love songs.

It’s not that he thought they were bad, or that he wouldn’t listen to them, he just found them rather unrelatable and boring. How many times does one have to listen to someone sing about the touch of another person?

But then he fell in love.

Truly, truly fell in love. Not teenage romance, not a Saturday night hookup, not an unrequited crush. True, mutual, comfortable love.

And he found himself relating to the songs he found so boring.

Suddenly, every overplayed radio song was about Phil.

Every 'his lips tasted like candy’ was about the specific sweet-sour wine of Phil’s lips on a loud Friday night and a calm Wednesday morning.

Every 'I could spend forever with you’ was not an over exaggeration, but rather, true.

Why wouldn’t he spend forever with Phil? It just made sense.

Every love song made sense.

He had girlfriends before, and a boyfriend too. But Phil was the first one to ever make him realise why people wished to be in love. ———- ❝ How dare you make me smile so hard that my face hurts when you’re so far away? ❞ ———- “Well this feels like déjà vu.”

Dan was sitting on their bed, laptop opened to Skype, smiling at Phil.

Phil was at his parent’s house, sitting on a guest bed, smiling back.

“You’re right. I have too many memories of nights like these.” Phil laughs half-heartedly.

“I probably would’ve just come with you, if I didn’t have a video to film.”

“I know. And remember to send me the file when you’re done so I can watch over it.”

“Yes, Dad.” Dan rolled his eyes fondly.

“It’s your regret, Daniel.”

Dan sighed, “I miss you.”

Phil smiled back, sadly, “I miss you too. But it’s only a few days, don’t worry. Just edit.”

“I remember a lot of nights back then, saying how one day we would never have to Skype again, yet here we are.”

“Stop being melodramatic Dan, it’s only a weekend for my mum’s birthday. We’ll live.”

“Will we? Because I swear I’m dddddyyyinnngggg!” Dan flopped down on the bed, pretending to faint, and they both fall into a fit of giggles.

“Noooo Danny! Don’t go into the light!”

“It’s too late… I can—see God… she’s coming for me…”

“Dannnnnnn! Nooo!” Phil put his hand over his heart and sobbed dramatically.

“God is Ribena Phil, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

They both burst into uncontrollable laughter at this, tears streaming down Dan’s face, struggling to catch their breath.

“Oh my god, Dan!”

“Oh my—Oh my Ribena, you mean!—”

They both gasped for air, Dan’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

“Of course, how dare I!?”

Once the laughter had settled down and they were both softly smiling again, Dan sighed.

“I still wish you weren’t so far. I want to be with you.”

Phil smirked, “Don’t you mean 'I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone’?”

“Shut up! Why do you even remember that?” Dan blushed and hid his face in a pillow.

Old feelings, old love. ———- ❝ in your kiss, I felt at peace ❞ ———- [09] ———- Butterflies.

Dan looks at Phil, Phil looks at Dan.

Dan tilts his head to the side.

His head is beating fast, but his heart is beating faster.

Phil is beautiful.

Now or never.

Butterflies.

Two lips, just two lips.

Soft. Phil’s lips are very soft. And sweet like honey.

Butterflies and honey.

A winning combination for your butterflies to get all sticky and trapped, and for you to feel brave.

Honey is sweet, like Phil’s lips.

Phil’s lips are better than honey.

This isn’t Dan’s first kiss, but it might as well be. This feels more important.

Honey.

Butterflies.

Honey is sweet.

Phil’s lips are sweeter.

“Thank you.” ———-

[spacyparker]

Prompts list

Okay guys this is a huge prompt list, feel free to send me a request with one or more prompts. Just tell me if you want it with Peter Parker or Tom Holland and I’ll write it as soon as possible !

Also, you can check my masterlist here

01.  "Whatever you're going to ask, the answer is No!"

02.  “Why did you scream like that ?”

03.  "I don't think I could live alone again."

04.  "She doesn't understand you like I do."

05.  "You've taken her back? You can't be serious?"

06.  "There's someone in the house!"

07.  "A boy needs his father."

08.  "Why didn't he come and talk to me himself?"

09.  "Oh my God. You're in love with her."

10.  "Is that my shirt?"

11.   "There’s only one bed."

12.  "If you get me his phone, I might reconsider."

13.  "I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I'm going to marry her."

14.  "I'll find her and bring her home, I promise."

15.  "Am I under arrest, or not?"

16.  "What's in that bag and why are you hiding it here?"

17.  "For some reason, I'm attracted to you."

18.  "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

19.  "Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?"

20.  "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

21.  "Could you be happy here with me?"

22.  "I have to do something to help that child."

23.  "You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?"

24.  "This isn't just about you. It's about what's best for all of us."

25.  "He was unconscious when I found him"

26.  "You embarrassed me this evening."

27.  " Does he know about the baby ?"

28.  "I think you’re just afraid to be happy."

29.  "What do you mean, he's escaped?"

30.  "If we both stick to the story, they can't prove anything."

31.  "I've been checking you out."

32.  "Darling, it's beautiful, thank you!"

33.  "You're paying a small price compared with what she's going through."

34.  "I miss moments like this more than anything."

35.  "Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?"

36.  "Well, this is where I live."

37.  "I don't often get the chance to talk to someone like you."

38.  "You have his eyes."

39.  "I'm telling you - the guy was a complete stranger, just walked up and gave me the bag."

40.  "If you do this, you will be dead to me."

41.  "I never meant to come between you and him."

42.  "The way you flirt is shameful."

43.  "I'm your daughter."

44.  "Quick, hide behind the sofa!"

45.  "I just want a nice, easy life. What's wrong with that?"

46.  "No! I'm tired of doing what you say."

47.  "You were always the quiet one."

48.  "Just give me my cut of the money and I'll be out of here."

49.  "I daren't stay long. I just had to see you."

50.  "Please! Stop it! All of you!"

51.  "It looks like you're in trouble there. Can I help?"

52.  "Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?"

53.  "Sorry, its just that I get very nervous when someone else is driving."

54.  “You know my name?”

55.  “I just came to say goodbye.”

56.  “I’ll sleep under the sheets, you sleep on top of them.”

57.  “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

58.  “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

59.  “Is it really you?”

60.  “You had me at ‘free pizza!’”

61.  “You can’t break my heart like this!”

62.  “Do you think it’s possible that I…might be… pregnant? ”

63.  “Here, wear my jacket.”

64.  “Are you serious? Do you have to do this now?”

65.  “My parents asked about you.”

66.  “Why is there a drunk man sleeping in the bathtub?”

67.  “Can you reach it?”

68.  “Can I hold your hand?”

69.  “No one will ever hurt you again!”

70.  “I just wanted an easy day with my girlfriend. What’s so wrong with that?”

71.  “Come over here and make me, then.”

72.  “Frankly, I couldn’t care less.”

73.  “If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me!”

74.  “Are you still awake…?”

75.  “Shut up and kiss me.”

76.  “Stop talking about the past, I could be dead in a matter of hours… make me up a future.”

77.  "Are you drunk?”

78.  “Baby, I’m on the phone.”

79.  “Where did you find this?”

80.  “I think I picked up your coffee by mistake.”

81.  “Delete that. Now.”

82.  “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

83.  “We accidentally got married in Vegas oops”

84.  “This is so going on Youtube!”

85.  “They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly it seems quite dangerous.”

86.  "Look at me. Just look at me and stay awake. Can you do that?”

87.  “Isn’t this weird? Should we not be doing this?”

88.  “I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”

89.  “Who brought pot brownies to the bake sale?!”

90.  “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

91.  “I’m no doctor, but you should have that looked at. It’s bleeding a lot…"  

92.  “How much sleep have you gotten in the past two days?”

93.  "Wanna dance?”

94.  “Why are you covered in mud?”

95.  “You never told me you had a fucking twin.”

96.  “Hey remember when we practiced kissing? That was stupid… right? Right?”

97.  "I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

98.  “If you’re bored; Wanna have sex?”

99.  “This is girl talk, so leave.”

100.  “You can sing?”

101.  “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

102.  "Well….don’t keep me waiting”

103.  “I can’t swim!”

104.  “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.”

105.  “I’m so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.”

106.  “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

107.  “Can I touch you ?”

108.  “Wait. I didn’t mean that. Please, come back.”

109. “Is that a tattoo?”

110.  “Why are you taking so many photos?”

111. “Im too sober for this”

112. “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”

113.  "That night never happened!”

114.  “Stop acting out Grease Lightning on the top of my car, I have somewhere to be!”

115.  “Here, take my hand. Everything is fine, just hold onto me and keep moving.”

116. “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”

117. “I found it in the recycling bin.”

118.  "I thought you loved her.”

119.  “We’re in a bathtub !”

120.  “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?”

121. “I just came to say goodbye.”

122.  "Sit in my lap.”

123.  “One last time, please ?”

124. “How can you still look so attractive while crying.”

125.  “Will you be quiet?!”

126.  “Wait, you’re a virgin ?,”

127.  “I had the weirdest dream about you and now I can’t stop thinking about you naked.”

128.  “Who did the laundry? My favourite shirt is pink.”

129.  “I’ve been alone for so long..”

130.  “Are you happy now? Huh? DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?!”

131.  "It’s too late for you to be out by yourself."

132. “Choose me”

133.  "You’re lying.”

134.  “I’m trying to drive here !”

135.  “You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”

136. “If you insist”

137.  “Time changes people.”

138.  “That’s gross ! Unless you’re up for it ?”

139.  “Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

140.  “Breaking up, was our best choice…right?”

141.  “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now”

142.  "Did you buy me… lingerie?”

143.  “I haven’t seen you in so long, I need you.”

144.  “Maybe I’m meant to be alone.”

145.  “You have already broke down my walls, and you had to break my heart.”

146.  “Unless I screw this up again, I’m going to marry you.”

147.  “Why did you say ‘Daddy’ in your sleep?”

148.  "I’m going to walk away and pretend I didn’t see anything.”

149.  “But you promised..”

150.  “You pushed me off a building.”

151.  "Let me shower first!”

152.  "Is that… is that my bra?”

153.  "Don’t drink that! I saw that guy slip something in there!"

154.  “Ask for permission.”

155.  "You said my name in your sleep.”

156.  "You left your shirt at my house. It’s mine now."

157.  “We were just joking around, right? Please tell me you knew that.”

158. “We have to stick together.”

159.  "Do that again.”

160.  “You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed!”

161. “We are not going to steal someone’s dog.”

162.  “I bet you ten dollars you won’t kiss me.”

163.  “Are you an undercover cop or something?”

164.  “I heard you singing Taylor Swift in the shower this morning, are you okay?”

165.  “You can’t come here and only eat the free samples.”

166.  “How was I supposed to know there was someone in the trunk? I was just stealing the car not trying to kidnap you!”

167.  “… Where are your pants?”

168.  “You said you were good at baseball!”

169.  “Hypothetically, if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

170.  “Well, I’m happy you think of me when you’re drunk.”

171.  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

172.  “That can’t be legal.”

173.  “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

174.  “I need a place to stay.”

175.  “I may be smaller than you but that still doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.”

176.  “I still have like 50% of your shirts here and I really don’t want to give them back. They smell like you and I realized I couldn’t sleep without one. So if you insist on taking them please just leave one.”

177. “Why do you keep inching closer to me?” “Cause your warm and this damn movie theater is freezing.”

178.  “If you could go back in time, would you stop yourself from meeting me?”

179.  “So, are you guys dating or?”

180.  “I’m way out of your league”

181.  “We’re never going to see each other again, are we?”

182.  “Even the idea of you being with someone else is enough to make me wish I was dead.”

183.  “Will you stop looking so surprised, it’s not like I’ve never worn a dress before.”

184.  “Tell me what I have to do to get you to forgive me? Want me to jump off a cliff? Done. Want me to hit your ex with a chair? Deal.”

185.  “Every day since you left I thought about where we went wrong and how I could get you back.”

186.  “Hey, can I hold your boobs for a sec?”

187.  “Take the long way around”

188.  “Isn’t that a bit too small for you?”

189.  “We’re out of gas, what’s your plan?”

190.  “You look… really happy. And normally, I would love that but now that I know it’s not me making you happy.. It’s just fucking with me.”

191.  “How many fingers am I holding up?” “…Zebra.” “My dude are you okay?

192. “Tell me I’m pretty before I shoot you in the dick!”

193. “My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on”

194.  “I wish you’d be here in my arms right now.”

195.  “I’m not gonna stop until you beg for it.”

196.  “Stay the night. Please.”

197.  “It’s lonely without you in the bed.”

198.  “Promise me you’ll come back… I need you to promise me.”

199.  “I’m not gonna stop leaving marks ‘till I’m sure everyone will know you’re mine.”

200.  “You’re really proposing to me? For real? Now?”

[cyjprojectarchive]

blurry | bambam

prompt: inspired by bammie’s instagram selfie hot dayum could i not contain myself, so i made an imagine abt it B) here it is if ya wanna get attacked by our bamchinja. c;  group: GOT7 pairing: bambam, you genre: fluff words: 3185 note:  sorry theres so many spelling errors its currently 3:18 am and im tired as heq ill edit this tomorrow thanku ㅠㅠ

“Dude, you got this.”

“Yeah, well, what if I don’t? Our asses are on the line here,” Bambam’s worried tone reverberates from your phone’s speakers. You have it on loudspeaker mode because you were in the mood for some mint chocolate ice cream. You just got home from classes today and boy was it scorching hot outside. 

“Yes, you do. And no, they’re not. You’ve been practicing nonstop for this comeback, Bam, I think you have it all down by now,” you repeat a little louder than usual as you open the freezer and take out the pint of sweet and cooling treat. 

Setting it down on the kitchen counter, you cap the lid off and start digging in with your spoon. “And why are you so nervous? You’ve never asked me advice on how to handle stage fright ever since we knew each other,” you comment through the melting of your favorite dessert inside your mouth.

“Are you eating ice cream from the pint again?” He suddenly asks, a tone of amusement lingering in his voice. You automatically hug the thing of ice cream closer to your stomach, eyes peering at the phone resting near you. “How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch.” You can just hear him shrugging smugly.

“You wish you were here,” you retaliate, scoffing as you take another scoop. You make sure he captures the sound of you scraping the soft and gooey substance of sweetness. You know you should be encouraging him right now, but teasing the boy you’ve known for quite a while now is always a treat in its own way. 

“I do. I do wish I were there,” he agrees somewhat seriously. You’re unsure whether he was talking about having ice cream or something else, but you brush it off, not wanting to think about such complications right now. 

You put the spoon down and attempt to bring the previous conversation back. “Really, though, Bam. You’re going to do amazing, as always. Don’t worry too much about it, alright?” You tell him earnestly. If Bambam had never asked for any reassurances with you before, maybe this time he really needed it. 

A slight pause occupies the air until you hear him exhale shortly on the other end of the phone call. “You’re right, you’re right. That makes me feel so much better. Thanks, fam,” he answers with a hopeful tone. 

Shaking your head, you protest, “No problem. And don’t ever call me ‘fam’ again, fam.”

“Would you like to be called something else then, hmm?” There he goes, back to his usual zany self which you can’t help but blush about…

Did Bambam just make you blush? 

“I would like you to call me when I’m not busy enjoying my ice cream,” you tell him, going back to eating your lunch for the day. 

“You didn’t even start eating ice cream when I called you in the first place!” Bambam interjects and you soon chuckle at his predicament. You hear a few conversations bubbling up in the background, even recognizing Yugyeom’s whining to one of the hyungs, maybe Jinyoung, you’re not quite sure.

You move your position to the couch, setting down your phone on the coffee table. You hear a distinct voice referring to Bambam and he responds, but you’re too focused on your ice cream to eavesdrop. 

“I have to go in a few. What’re you going to do afterwards?” He finally addresses you. You ponder his question until you realize you’ve forgotten something really important. 

“Shoot! I have a major presentation for my History class tomorrow!” Spoon hanging in midair, you slowly place the ice cream pint next to your phone, feeling guilty of even opening it up. 

“And you haven’t started on it yet,” Bambam muses. You groan in agreement and slap your forehead lightly. “No, because I thought it was happening next week.”

“Too distracted with me, huh. I have that effect,” the boy on the other end suggests, a smirk almost evident in his voice. You laugh mockingly, but the anxiety in you keeps rising. “Guess I have something to keep me distracted while you’re performing,” you conclude, probably feeding his ego even more. 

“That’s good, then, at least it’s not another guy,” he jokes and you roll your eyes. “Whatever, snake,” you shoot back. 

“Anyway, I got to go, we’re shooting in a few,” he tells you, almost begrudgingly. “Hey, I really appreciate you answering the call.”

You smile at his genuine reply. You rarely see this side of Bambam whenever you guys are together, or even just talking on the phone. You feel a sense of warmth in your heart, and you honestly don’t know what to make out of it. But you don’t let it get to you- not yet.

“Of course. You know I’m here,” you mutter softly. 

“And me too,” he chimes. Another voice, presumably Jaebum, informs him about getting ready, so you anticipate Bambam’s good bye. “Now I really need to go. I’ll message as soon as possible.”

“For sure, Bam. Good luck! You never fail to do your best,” you add, making sure he’s still reassured. Bambam thanks you again, and the call ends.

Now, onto cramming that damned History presentation.

Adding a few finishing touches here and there, you finally have a decent 10-slide presentation for your class tomorrow morning. Stretching your arms upward, you let out a relieved sigh, yawning in the process. Making sure that the file has been saved to your laptop, Google Drive, and USB, you turn your laptop off and trudge your way into the comfort of your bed. 

The digital clock on your nightstand reads 11:24 pm and you feel quite proud for completing a procrastinated project before the day ends, roughly speaking. You ease your way into the duvet, grabbing your phone to the side for a late night session on a few of your social media accounts. 

You go to your Messages and remember Bambam’s call from earlier. You wonder whether the performance was a success- it probably was, and Bambam just had cold feet, but you already texted him two hours ago complaining about History being your worst subject ever and how lucky you are it’s your first class of the day. You type a new text, informing him of your success nonetheless and hoping he had a fun time today as well. 

Before you can hit the send button, a chat bubble appears on Bambam’s end first. Your eyes widen at the screen and your lips part in surprise. 

“What the…” You utter under your breath, hands suddenly sweating at the sight of your phone, Bambam’s selfie showing on the bright screen. You squint your eyes to confirm what you’re seeing is right. 

You hit backspace on your keyboard and type a new message with quick and shaking thumbs. 

Wrong number, headass. 

He reads it immediately and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes cannot seem to focus on anything else other than the blurry selfie of a jet black haired K-pop idol. You find yourself mesmerized at his cerulean contacts and drawn to the straight and full pink lips. Breath hitching, you mentally urge yourself to stop giving in to your thoughts. 

Undeniably, Bambam broke every puberty challenge out there, and not a day goes by without you reminding him that- much to his satisfaction. But you complimenting him was always out of good faith as good friends, nothing more and nothing less. 

However, recently, things have been a bit blurry between the two of you. It doesn’t help that his constant teasing makes you more conscious of the type of relationship you guys are slowly developing. 

And this selfie isn’t helping.

lmao what do you mean that is supposed to be sent to my best friend

You share a room with Yugyeom. Just show it to him in person lmao

not himmm, my OTHER best friend. u. anyway, like what u see? ;)

WTF are you talking about, you never send me selfies before??? 

aww is it that bad, b? :,( it’s just a lil smth to motivate u with ur presentation. hows that going for u, btw?

Again, with the weird ass nicknames, Bam lmao? And you’re just a few minutes too late bec I’ve finished, but thanks for trying.

Also, no, it actually looks really good. :)

pshhh u like itttt bb ;) oh, hey thats great. u should go 2 sleep by now.

and really? don’t play me, bb :,(

It does! Your face is blurred, so it’s perfect.

wow bye

You chuckle to yourself at the playful conversation. Typical Bambam, but you still can’t help but be confused at any underlying message of all this. Or maybe there’s not any and your mind is just running irrationally due from the emerging crash of the caffeine. Maybe that’s it.

You think of sending him a meme- of himself, might you add- until he follows a new text. 

blurred like our relationship, right

Dropping your phone to the side, you bring a pillow pushed to your face and scream into its plush surface. You feel the heat coming off of your cheeks, chest heaving in and out as well. What was that all about? Has Bambam been aware of the unusual tension you, yourself, have been feeling towards him the past couple of weeks? Why is he speaking up about it now?

that was stepping out of the line of being corny. i’m sorry lol

You notice that he was trying to play it off cool, but now that you’ve gotten a signal from him acknowledging the uncanny stage of your relationship right now, you wanted to go all out. With Bambam, you need to know whether he’s serious about this or not. 

You retreat the pilow away from your face, flustered at the suddent flight response you just pulled off. You certainly cannot be this embarrassing once you confront him, that’s for sure. But realizing you might have been absent for a while, you gingerly take a hold of your phone and type a new message with a plan. 

When are you free, Bam? 

You need to discuss this to him in person. You need to see it in Bambam’s eyes. You see the typing animation show on and off as he’s probably contemplating on what to say to you too.

i’m free for a few hours after our morning radio interview

Perfect. I’ll meet you at the cafe near my university at 12. Sounds good?

yeah yeah ofc 

Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bam.

you too. uhhh good night?

Good night to you too, Bambam. :)

“Headass, over here!”

A guy in stylish clothing, together with a black cap, black sunglasses, and black mask whips his head towards your direction. His tall stance and sense of fashion already singled him out from the lazily dressed college students surrounding the cafe right now, including yourself.

You end up sleeping three hours later after your conversation with Bambam, different scenarios of your meet up today forming in your head, some with good outcomes and others unspeakable. You couldn’t believe that you were able to set up a “date” with him with the intention of confessing the uncertainty you have in regards to affectionate feelings towards him. 

He walks over to the corner of the quaint little shop, a cold drink already in place before his seat. You don’t see his expression quite well, seeing that his whole face is covered with different kinds of masks, but you hear him chuckle as he relaxes in front of you, inspecting the drink shortly. 

“You know me too well,” he finally says, lowering the mask to his chin so he can take a sip of his favorite drink. You grin at your accomplishment, chugging the iced coffee you bought for yourself as to keep your nerves from taking over you- which was ironic since you’re gulping down more of what keeps you shaking right now.

“How was the interview?” You ask nonchalantly, watching his every move. Bambam glances up at you and nods his head, “It went really well. More enjoyable than your presentation, that I could say.”

Glaring daggers at him you counter, “Shut up.” He cackles at your response, and then the two of you instinctively easing into your normal conversations of mundane stories and brutal banters, almost forgetting about the original reason of you meeting him here.

But you didn’t mind, not one bit. You missed his physical presence. Just seeing a hint of his crinkling eyes from the shade of his visor is enough for you to feel comfortable around Bambam. He genuinely is the best person you know. You both never have to think twice about saying something potentially wrong, because the other would just use it at their advantage but at the same time turn it into an inside joke between the two of you. 

There was something that he declared which made you stomp your hand down the table in rejection. He chortles at your dramatic expression and casually lays his hand on top of yours. Your face quickly realizes this as you retrieve your hand back to your sides, squeezing it tight to stop it from trembling at the sudden contact. 

Bambam notices your discomfort and coughs awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry. I ruined it, didn’t I?” He admits, looking down in frustration.

“No, no, Bam it’s not that,” your attempt in fixing the matter at hand was futile, and you wish you have more time to stall, more time to just have mindless fun with the best guy friend you’ve ever had in a while. 

But seeing that your stomach churned and jumped in itself after a simple touch of your hand, you had to tell him how he’s made you feel. Or else you’re going to go nuts.

“What are we, Bambam?” You blurt out, eyes fixating on the empty cup of beverage sitting idly on the table. “And don’t make it out as a meme, ‘kay? I’m asking it seriously,” you follow up with a scrunched face, making sure that Bambam knows you’re done with fooling around. 

You peek at his face and he seems to be smiling shyly, hand that was once touching yours now scratching the back of his head. You find yourself wishing you never took it back. 

Shaking your head, you whine at your inner frustration. “I… I think I like you, Bam. And I don’t know why I’m saying this now but recently, you’ve been saying weird stuff to me that gets me all flustered and red and you can’t see that because we haven’t seen each other in a while, but when we do I try to suppress it just because I don’t you to think I’m weird or something like that but our conversation last night messed me up big time, and now I don’t know if suppressing it is going to help anymore and I just -”

You stop yourself from losing air in your system as you inhale and exhale. Your hands have been clutching themselves tightly on your lap and you let go to feel the blood pumping again. You’re afraid to look up and see a confused Bambam staring at you, but before you can contemplate any further, you hear a soft laughter resonating from him. And it wasn’t that of mockery, so you slowly turn your head to reveal a blushing adolescent boy before you, hands covering his eyes under a pair of expensive sunglasses.

 “Aw man, you beat me to it. Why do you always do that to me?” He complains cutely. You titl your head in confusion. 

“I was supposed to confess first. Do you know how ashamed I feel right now?” He takes his hands off his eyes as well as his sunglasses and you finally see his eyes. Glistening in hope and anxiety all at the same time, but the beauty in them never left. You are taken aback, but you try and keep it together as he gulps down and stares right back at you. 

“You always beat me to things, but that doesn’t mean I won’t confess anymore. Yes, I’ve been trying to get your attention more frequently because I’ve… developed feelings for you, and I didn’t know how to handle them other than be more annoying than usual.” His assessment of the situation makes you giggle, and it prompted him to keep going. 

“I was really happy I got to talk to you when I was feeling hella nervous yesterday. It made me confirm my feelings for you and that you make me comfortable in whatever situation we’re in. The selfie I sent you last night was just me trying to see if you kind of feel the same way, and I honestly didn’t know what to expect from there.” He brings his hands on the table and plays with them mindlessly, biting his lip as he looks down. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel frustrated by the way I’ve acted, I’m just a dumb adolescent boy who doesn’t know how to handle his feelings well. But I was honestly really glad we got to hang out today, you know I missed you a lot. So, I’m sorry if this ruins everything…” he trails off, seeming to want to say more but his tongue prevents him from doing so.

You keep your eyes on him, not exactly knowing how to respond correctly. He gives you a full minute to contemplate on your own before he looks back up at you, pausing with his hands and smiling sheepishly. “Any response from you would be great right now.”

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” you say, lips in a tight line. You think for another few seconds before finally making up your mind. “C’mon, let’s take a selfie.”

“W-what?”

“C’mon, Bam. You have a better camera than mine, so go get your phone!” Your tone was firm but encouraging at the same time. He hesitates for a second but complies nonetheless. You scoot next to him, your arm slightly touching with his. You falter a bit, but you feel Bambam relax with your touch and you smile as you move in a tiny bit closer.

He positions the phone at the perfect angle and you see him trying out a few different expression before his thumb presses over the button. Your smile grows wider at the sight of him assessing himself, but you quickly peck the soft surface of his cheek and beat him to taking the selfie. 

Without waiting for his response, you snatch the phone away and inspect the picture. Content with the image, you show him the screen. 

He looks at with his eyebrows furrowed, but immediately understands and reveals a goofy grin. You nudge his elbow playfully before resting your head on your shoulder, already feeling at ease with your position.

“Not so blurry now, huh?” You ask him. He pats your head in response and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, the touch of him making you want more.

 But for now, this is enough.

[someartrefsifound]

I won't tell you who I am, I just want you to listen.

Hello, I am 21 this year and ever since I was 16, I thought I have depression. My mom is not highly educated and is a very traditional chinese mom, the type that wants you to get a good grade and get rich before 25. She's also really sexist and bias towards my elder brother. At 16, I slowly I found myself being constantly upset and having no energy at all to function, nothing excites nor interests me anymore. My grades are bad, my mind is hazy, there's some screaming inside that just won't gonaway. I don't have much friend, my presence is very small and I am constanyly forgotten or bullied in school up until college. I would tell my mom and she would get mad and tell me I'm too young to be depressed or it's not ladylike to be upset. At 17/18 I slowly distant myself from my family and the few friends I have. My dad's an asshole that doesn't do shit. A few years ago he was unemployed and now he's constantly at home, how he's just an useless asshole that doesn't even want to get his own glass of water. See, he was never there for us but my mom loved him anyway. My elder brother doesn't bother hiding his dislike towards him and avoided him- eh well, he avoided a lot of things; chores, for example. My mom doesn't care, he's a man so he doesn't have to do it while she expects me to do everything and yells at me frequently for being disrespectful. Don't get me wrong, I do care about my mom- not love, but deeply cares about,- but when I was younger I was never allowed to go out, go to a friend's house or have them over or go anywhere without someone with me I was an isolated child until i was 17 started rebeling. I took the bus for the first time in my life and lied to my parents I have class and had my mom dropped me at school but I was actually going take a bus and meet my friend from there. When im sick, im always nelected, even if im coughing or wheezing or dying my family doesnt even care.  Anywayyy... Yea, I have an odd family and it turned me into this socially awkward, anxious and depressed person. My parents never really paid attention to me unless they wanted something, they were too busy focusing on my bro and heck, my mom almost doesnt want to let me go to college cus she spent money on my bros education but well yanno, she wanted me to be a nurse so i can assist him but woo hoo im a dumb child but my english is good which she only realized AFTER i finished high school thus forcing me to be a teacher blah blah blah rebal blah blah got a job agaisnt her wishes blah blah I want to be an artist. Nooo its too expansive but not really cus its like half the price of my bros college fees what do u know. I went to college, finished my studies and now im waiting for graduation. But for what? I get jealous when i see my classmates hanging out. Two years and I havent made one friend, they think im WEIRD. I crack jokes about killing myself, laugh when I get nervous and stood too dangerously close to the edge of a bridge.  I never ask my parents for money. I never ask for expansive things because those does not appeal to me and we dont have the money. My mom acusses me of being wasteful and wasting her money. I'm 21. My brother's 29. He have a high paying job, a house, a company and a girlfriend. My mom wanted me to be a stay at home mom and forbids me of getting a job. She scolds me for not wanting to drive bu t hides the key from me. She doesn t give me allowance anymore, I earn money from doing side jobs like graphic designing. It's technically a job. I wanted to go to art school at first but was shoot down but I still draw for a living. HOWEVER, my mom doesn't cook nor does she buys groceries. Im hungry sometimes because she only remembrs to buy food for dad and I have to scrap my own money to buy food and groceries. I want a job but im scare of failing and im scare of my mom. Im not good at anything, im not good with people. I wanted to scream constantly and my head is always so loud. Im so tired. So goddamn tired of life. Im trying to make friends but im just a shadow. But i want to be loved... Im just so lonely but i dont feel like meeting people. Theyll just leave ay the end or forget about me. I m so sick of being told to cheer up and do something to change it or stand up to myself. They dont understand how hard is it even if inwanted to order a god damn plate of rice i freeze up and swallowrd my words. Im so used to veing stepped on and forgotted, its almost acceptance to be now. Im so sick of being told theres nothing wrong with me. Being misunderstood, being upset. Being forgotten and overshadowed. Im so tired. Thank you for listening. Hope i wasnt a bother.